The battlefield was littered with swords, blood, and corpses of fallen men. It was the 100 year war between the kingdom of Golheim and Merringway. I Ser Anderson nicknamed "The Hound" was one of the soldiers... No, pawns that was slain in this war.

Seeing no hope in surving, I pray to the only god that heard my calls. "O-oh great W-war God S-slyvach the courageous! L-let me become your champion! B-become your Hound! L-let me fight for another day and see my loved ones once again. A-and I promise you that I will bring g-glory to your name!" I weakly called out as I pulled a spear out my abdomen and used my longsword to stand up.

Once I stood up a voice spoke to me. "I heed your call my champion. I knew you had the power, the will to stand and fight! And with your gesture I shall recognize thee "Ser Anderson The hound" as my Champion!" A voice of neither man or woman whispered in my ear.

I felt a rush of pain linger in my wounds and before I knew it, my wounds are all stitched up. I took my sword and weakly walked away from the field of battle to report to my superiors. I used my sword as a cane and walked aimlessly for days.

Before then I never truly knew my desires, my wants, or my purpose, but now I have one. To live to serve Slyvach, to bring their name glory and honor, and live another day.

That's my one true purpose... And that's why they call me a "War Dog"