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Leigh · 17-10-07, 11:03 PM

A roar sounded, as the orc smacked his mace into Draven's shield with a loud clang, spittle from the orcs mouth spewing unto his armor. With a slight grunt, Draven adjusted his stance, butting his right leg firmly behind him, boot burying into the snow, and positioned himself defensively, as his blue eyes eyed the surroundings through the slit of his Helmet.
The orc pulled back his arms, grabbing the axe with both hands, ready for another strike. The second the Orc lifted the axe, Draven pushed his weight forward, sword coming in for a low upward slash with his weapon, making a deep wound across the orcs' chest, sending it stumbling backwards with another roar. Repositioning himself, Draven uttered a silent grunt, as the Orc reinforcements started streaming out from the caves, as far as he could tell, about two dozen of them.
He turned around quickly, and ran through the snow, trying to keep his balance while running through the cliffs at the side of the Frozen Mountains.
As he turned a corner, making a quick glimpse, he turned around swiftly, pushing his feet into the snow, shield up front, as a throwing axe thundered against his shield with a loud clank. Only seconds after, a rain of arrows came from what was now behind him, impaling four of the orcs, dropping them to the ground quickly. As the orcs came towards him, axes, crude swords and spears raised for attacks, two militiamen clad in steel armor, wearing the emblem of the
kings Army, stepped up besides him, two handed swords more than ready to meet the Orcish onslaught.
As the two groups got closer together, suddenly a small flash erupted, and an explosion sent both men and orc flying through the air. Draven clashed against the mountainside, and fell down on a rock, his helmet flying off. He heard a loud cackle, coming from the mountain peak. He looked up, to see another bright flash, as a lightning bolt hurled towards him.
Just before it hit, he rose quickly, bathed in sweat, in a bed inside the Traveler's Inn, in Trinsic.

Another bad dream, another bad memory, he could hardly tell the difference anymore. His years on Dagger Isle had taken its toll, and left him seemingly permanently scarred.
After clearing his head, he stood up, and went to wash himself up. Today was the day he was to don the Trinsic Uniform, and he wanted nothing to get in the way of that.
Especially not his own, twisted mind.