I beleive that I am connected to my kin; living, dead, and yet to be born in an unbroken line. I beleive the gods can offer guidance and inspiration, but our lives, actions, and honour remain our own. Only by struggle can the spirit learn and grow, only in testing can it gain strength, and only by choices can it know itself. When you face your gods, will you be clad in glory, rich in wisdom, supported by the ties of love and duty to your family and community, and warmed by the banked fires of pain and hardship you've accepted? Or will you face them clad only in the tattered rags of things you wished you'd done?