The cacophony of battle surrounded Northern on all sides—the guttural roars of beasts, their dying shrieks, the ceaseless clang of talons and steel meeting claw and fang.
He moved through the chaos with singular purpose, the Blade carving deadly arcs through the air—survival!
With each foe he felled, exhaustion seeped deeper into his muscles, the grip on his sword growing slick with sweat and gore.
But his eyes remained sharp, missing nothing around him even as he traded blows with the monster at his side.
That hideous hellion fought with a feral grace, its massive axe cleaving apart any that dared approach.
Dark blood fountained around it as it crushed bones and sundered limbs. To the unaware eye, it would seem the true threat on this nightmare battlefield.
Yet Northern knew better. Beneath the monster's brutality lay a cunning intellect, its attacks coming at precise moments to drive back Northern's own enemies.