The mighty beast reared back raising it's armored head high in the air. It bellowed a roar that shook the foundations of the world. More importantly to the lone man standing frail before the creature the roar meant failure and death.

This thing was responsible for the death of thousands. It had come from the darkest corners of the world. It was fueled by fear and fed on the corpses of the dead.

The man looked down at his armor and shield. Both were badly beaten and barely functional. He had fought long and hard to reach this place. Fought against foes both physical and intangible. Many had fallen to his determination. He had prevailed against each but the cost was high.

Months of fighting had taken their toll. He was beaten, bruised, but more importantly his spirit was crushed. He had believed his road finished. He had believed his battles concluded. He had believed he'd achieved the respite from suffering and sorrow.

The gates out of the labyrinth stood before him. Titanic, gleaming gates of some unknown silvery metal glowed with their own light. Beyond them waited rest and peace, wisdom earned and quite mind free of worry and care. It seemed like a dream.

He would not be denied. He felt the familiar anger and rage building. He felt the power return to his limbs. He hefted his warhammer and shield and closed the visor on his helm.

But how could he stand against such a thing. 40 feet tall, the beast was wreathed in fire, ice, and shadow. It's eyes blazed with hatred - hatred of life, happiness, peace, of everything the man wanted. It was his antithesis. His very opposite. Everything he valued the monster hated. Everything he fought against the monster nurtured.

His spirit began to flag. Here his end had come. So close to his hopes and dreams, the insurmountable had been placed in his path. He could not defeat this obstacle. In this moment hope faltered.

His shield slipped to the ground with a dull clang. The hammer drooped at his side. His knees buckled in submission. Tears of frustration and hopelessness began to flow. He waited for his end.

Strong hands gripped his arms and lifted him back to his feet. Surprised, he blearily he looked about. Standing next to him, holding him up, were heavily armed and armored soldiers. Head to toe clad in glittering plate and mail. Visors were closed, ready for battle, but he recognized the crests they bore. His family and friends.

From seemingly nowhere they had come to aid him. He looked past the warriors at his sides. For as far as his tear-strained eyes could see knights were lining up, forming ranks and brandishing weapons of the finest make. Shields adorned with known and unfamiliar crests appeared all along the line.

His friends and family had joined him. All were arrayed against this foe of his. He was not alone. He bent down to retrieve his shield and saw, to his astonishment, that it was sparkling and free of damage. His armor was likewise renewed, impregnable. Hefting his hammer once again it felt light in his hand as his strength and spirit returned.

And in that moment the beast faltered. Here was no easy prey. No weary, worn out fighter. Here was a man bolstered by the strength of his family and his friendships. Here was the very thing the beast feared - hope personified. This would still be no easy battle the man realized - but it was a battle he could fight.

And he knew that he was not alone.