So this is a massive painting I completed much earlier this year. My commissioner, who was one of the first ever people to follow/commission me and has been a friend for a decade now,  mechaman (Mechafox) wrote a story to go with this, featured below. He sent this to me months ago, but at the time I was away from home for a while and did not have the file to upload it. Then I simply forgot about it until now while I am going through my art from this year XD

So here it is!!

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‘Ah, more adventurers on the road to Malekith? I’ve seen all sorts of souls pass this way, mages that could crack the world, shapeshifters with bodies like clay, zealots, heroes. All at one time or another have passed through this room on the path to…well whatever they were after?’
‘You seek one of them? Well that’s a tall order, there’ve been so ma-‘
‘Ah, him. I don’t know why you would seek him. Stories? Bah! You haven’t heard them all or you’d never say that. How do I know? This house is older than she looks, I know it seems empty, but you can see the history in every chip of stone or patched timber. Look around while I tell you a story, and like all good stories hopefully you’ll learn something from it.’
‘A wise man once said that the world is nothing but the paths we travel down, we will make many turns, stumble many times, and meet many companions on the way with their entrances and exits. And even a fox in his time may walk many roads.’
First the Young Paladin, brave and brash. He’s barely left home and already strides like a giant across the world, seeing all the glory and fame he wishes beyond the horizon. The gods bless his every step and devils flee before his light. His direction is so certain that even the mountains cannot turn him from his path, bringing light and hope to all who will hear his name.
Second the Vengeful Warrior, angry and pained. Betrayed by all that he trusted, a scarred hand proof of the injustice in the world. While his path has changed his certainty has remained. Ferocity and talent are as lethal as the swords of his friends, murdered by his own hand for standing against him and now worn as trophies.
Third the Guilt-Ridden Victim, shaken and alone. All his anger stripped away to reveal the monstrosity he created. He knows he is incomplete without the passions that birthed all his misery, and yet those passions are what scar him the most. For once he has no path, instead condemned to wander in darkness by his own soul.
Fourth the Champion of the Mad God, unshackled and free. This path is a strange one as the third and fourth walk side by side. Unburdened by care or reason, he enjoys the patronage of the one responsible for him, an avatar of what the gods hid from the world. He is less a person and more a storm, blowing away all in his path without feeling or cruelty.
Fifth is The Last Bloodclaw, controlled but savage. He walks among nature to find balance in a soul divided. He finds wisdom long forgotten, learned over eons by the natural hunters and warriors, and with that wisdom comes an understanding of that which the world has lost. Civilisation has left his teachers behind, and he knows none will follow in his footsteps.
The sixth path is the Chosen of the Goddess, fierce and proud. On its own, this path walks alongside the heroes of legend, but he knows he fights a darkness he succumbed to already, in order to avoid it infecting others. With divine blessing and mighty allies, ancient artefacts and apocalyptic magics, he drives back the forces of the universe, knowing that his own reckoning will come.
And finally, the seventh, a Weary Veteran, grey and worn. He looks back on paths he has walked with neither pride nor shame, only a tired acceptance. He knows his every step now is truly his own and so it is scrutinised even more. The world has known his many names, and while his path has been lengthened by each victim of his past, he truthfully wishes to see the end and judgement, so that he at last has peace.
‘Who can say if he’ll walk another path. Eventually you tread one so much that you’d have climb to reach another.’
‘But consider carefully. The gods chose their playthings carefully and he was chosen by two of them. What does it say when one no longer kills simply because it has become boring? And who knows if he will ever draw sword again. But one thing I know, death to him is but another drop in his ocean now.

‘Now the fire’s getting low, so decide how you’re sleeping, it’s a few coppers near the fireplace, or 4 silvers for a room. Think on the stories you’ve heard, and ask what you want to find at the end of this path, a legend, or a villain, perhaps both? Or perhaps neither.’

- Story by Mechafox