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Description
My blade may be rusted
But it still has an edge,
my heart may be wounded,
but I am far from dead!

Make your move now
or be shamed and bow.
I'm a freedom fighter born and bread.

This is Dusk, ready to fight, his blade charged with energy. This is a ne look for him, the long hair, the black costume. and a little tech for spice. the idea i'm dabling in with him is not a world of medieval fantasy entirely. it has a little bit of everything.

As for the poem, Dusk has been hurt alot, and he still gets up to fight, yet keeps his honor even when others around him do not. The sword was his father's, the portion on the top, a generator of energy, converting it from magic in the air, making a somewhat cumbersome blade into a wicked weapon.
enjoy mates

Description
My blade may be rusted
But it still has an edge,
my heart may be wounded,
but I am far from dead!

Make your move now
or be shamed and bow.
I'm a freedom fighter born and bread.

This is Dusk, ready to fight, his blade charged with energy. This is a ne look for him, the long hair, the black costume. and a little tech for spice. the idea i'm dabling in with him is not a world of medieval fantasy entirely. it has a little bit of everything.

As for the poem, Dusk has been hurt alot, and he still gets up to fight, yet keeps his honor even when others around him do not. The sword was his father's, the portion on the top, a generator of energy, converting it from magic in the air, making a somewhat cumbersome blade into a wicked weapon.
enjoy mates