Daughter of the blood axe
Rifts, doorways to other worlds, uncaring passageways that began stealing, and abandoning, regular, everyday people, carelessly tossing them aside in hellscapes only their ancient ancestors, their predecessors that roamed the earth alongside deadly predators, could even begin to comprehend.
which, of course, as is the case needed for such a story, one such unlucky soul, if you could even call them that anymore, had found themselves the unfortunate victim of such an event, and once they'd found themselves on the other side, it was very clear that life, well, life was very surely against them in every aspect, as they were abandoned, without even a sliver of hope for, well, we don't really know how long, on a world devoid of any sentient life, a world full of only two things; the first, one, large, double bladed axe, glowing in red letters, a language no one spoke, or even recognized, and the second, monsters, creatures, biological natural disasters that starved for flesh.
in other words, it was a world of kill, or be killed, eat, or be eaten, triumph, or lose.
and losing, meant dying.
they didn't want to die.
they wanted to live, and they would do anything it took in order to accomplish it.
including, making a deal with the axe, and forever altering the course of their life.
