“A woodsman’s ax is only as good as the tallest tree it can fell.”
“There was once a woodsman who believed he, along with the trusty tool in his hand, could take any tree and send it plummeting to the ground below.”
“The woodsman, you see, was a master of his craft. Any tree in his way could be culled with but a few swings from his trusty ax. To the foliage in his forest, he was Death incarnate.”
“However, despite his proficiency with his craft, he soon came upon a tree that made even him question his abilities.”
“Standing hundreds of feet tall, bark as thick as steel, this monumental oak was a testament to longevity.”
“But, never one to back down from a challenge, the woodsman readied his ax and began his attack.”
“With every meaty thwack of his ax dug fruitlessly into the bark of the great oak, every chop yielding but a scratch.”
“The woodsman grew furious, and with it, his chops became more erratic as he angrily tried to fell the tree.”
“Every swing he took caused the ax to build stress, its handle weakening until it eventually succumbed to wear and tear. And, in an instant?”
“Snap.”
“The ax he believed in so heavily broke in two.”
“Rain is the woodsman of OSW, a place populated by trees of all shapes and sizes. From the mighty Sandman to the wilting Grimwolf, he alone decides who stands and who falls.”
“And you, Corvus. You are his trusty tool in his ill-fated terraforming of OSW’s terrain.”
“You alone are the ax in his hand, the sharpened cleaver with which he digs into trees and vines alike, tearing them down so he can shape the forest as he sees fit.”
“No tree stands a chance when the Black Hand of Death is aimed at its base, right?”
“The likes of Tyler Brooks found himself cut down in the prime of his life at your blade.”
“A hacker met his grisly end with a garrote wrapped around his neck all while he planned out the best way to fell the tree we call Zero.”
“But despite it all, there’s one tree in this jungle that you’ve failed to truly damage time and time again.”
“A massive, ever growing, ever powerful oak tree known simply as Sigil.”
“Death wants nothing more than to cut me open and count the rings inside of me. He’s hell bent on causing the mighty timber that means the end for me.”
“And you? You’re the tool he’s so futilely trying to accomplish this insurmountable task with.”
“Swing away at me, Corvus. Swing and chop at my skin with everything you have. In the end, I won’t be the one who breaks.”
“You will be.”
“I’ll endure it all, take your shots in stride. Because at the end of the day, you’re going to crumble against my bark.”
“And when Death discards your two broken halves?”
“I’ll be there to collect the pieces.”
“I have walked this path before, I shall walk it once more.”