The bastard can’t even hold his sword and yet he kills again and again. Can he even be called a warrior? What he’s doing is not fighting, it’s straight out murder on the field. Some kind of beast, that’s what he is. And I love him for it.
That awkward moment when you realize you don’t know what you’re doing and have been doing at the computer for the past hour(s). The following moments after this are even more awkward as you still can’t quite grasp what’s going on. Finally, the moment when you can’t bear it any longer and has to write it down somewhere.