"We failed him" Came a voice from the doorway. "Our faith was weak, and we failed him" The voice answered.<br/>A calloused hand removed itself from the doorframe as the angel walked into the chapel - No slender and delicate creation of god was he, scarred and pitted, with rough hands ending in blackened fingers. He was an Angel of the Forge, a weapon maker for the war. He did not have the luck to stay out of the fight though, and once his job was done creating he too had to join the battle.<br/>But, he was handsome, for he was made in god's image. Broad shouldered and heavily built, a simple breastplate was all that was left of the war, his sword discarded just like he had been. His name was Amriel.