GLOTAN

Sexton. A little town, a quiet village of little people. All could barely see beyond their mundane lives. Nonetheless, all paused for Glotan.

Glotan, the warrior. Glotan, the charmer. Glotan, gatekeeper of who belonged in a social setting. Glotan, the VETERAN (COMMANDER Glotan to YOU). Glotan, the subject of many rumors and ballads. After all...

"NO ONE fought like Glotan (or threw back shots like Glotan)...

If the name of Glotan struck awe in men and audible swoons from women (...and, to be fair, a man or two), the name of Morrigana, the Sea Sorceress, invoked FEAR. Sexton was a seaside village and, naturally, Morrigana sought to claim it. A flash of lightning or whisper of thunder; Morrigana's dirty work. The crashing of the high tides; Morrigana's reminder that she was lurking. The arrival of a shark; oh, that was a shark; his name was Timbre. He belonged to...you guessed it...Morrigana.

For 1000 moonrises, Morrigana tampered with life in Sexton. The bravest seamen couldn't resist her lustful pull. Many vessels were lost to the dangerous depths. The largest crews departed Sexton's shores; the rumor of a shipwreck remained of them now; until...

"...NO ONE sailed like Glotan (chugged on ale like Glotan)..."

Glotan, the living legend, would take the risk. He would commandeer a makeshift raft (forged by his own perfectly uncalloused hands, you see) on his own to claim the destiny of Sexton's savior! Morrigana would surely die by a single blade; and that sword would only belong to Glotan; for no one...

"...Slung like Glotan (or was it SWUNG like Glotan? Oh well; the sword truly STUNG from Glotan!)"

Morrigana of the Sea had one final dirty trick in her arsenal to fell Sexton to her designs; and the villagers had one final ace in their deck to prevent the madness.

"No one...played cards like Glotan (cheated at Hearts like Glotan...)"

A wooden raft sat at Sexton's shoreline. Even Timbre would not show his fins. The sun set into the sea and the villagers gathered to send off he who could lure them out of their little worlds.

Glotan sheathed a sword and knife self-righteously. The sea of people parted for him as he strutted down the shore for this penultimate mission . The strike from Glotan would be Morrigana's last as no one hit like GLOTAN

(...shoved and bit like Glotan!)

The men removed their hats respectfully. The women wept and bawled. The library girl (a curious creature) didn't raise her eyes from a BOOK to gaze upon such a male specimen as GLOTAN (but she was there to see him set sail).

The raft took off with Glotan, the soldier; Glotan, the HERO; GLOTAN, the heartbreaker! He was off to slay Morrigana (So legends said). When he returned HOME, Morrigana, the Siren, would either have a perfect political puppet situated in Sexton; or a massive killer. Glotan knew of her designs for him; and he was alright with them too. The VILLAGERS would never be so...