Excerpts Out of Context

1075^th Year of the Great Emrosian Empire
Frost’s Dawn

 

Raston

An axe swung down. His axe? An arm was severed. Blood spattered his face. Hands pushed at his back. Another person dropped to the blood-soaked mud. Corpse trampled by the press. Another axe swung. Sword stabbed. Shield raised. Arrows peppered the field. Shields lowered. Axe swung. Limb severed. Blood spattered. Corpse trampled.

Again. Again. Again.

Axe. Limb. Shield. Arrow. Corpse. Forward. Axe.

His body was numb. His mind was numb. His world was a blur. Shouting and screaming deafened him. He swung his axe, again and again, sinking its blade into flesh and pushing forward. He slid his feet through the mud, shins pushing against fallen enemies. Comrades? It became difficult to tell. His axe came down, biting into flesh. Whose flesh? He could not always be sure.

The world swirled around him. Shields went up. He ceased his forward push, ducking beneath the nearest shield bearer. Arrows rained around them. His heart raced. His skin tingled. Shields dropped. Axe swung. He pushed forward; fresh corpses pushed aside.

His world took on a red tinge, his arms began to tremble. He lunged forward, pushing past the shield bearer to his side. He threw himself into the center of the press. Swung. Swung. SWUNG! Arms numb. Head numb. Heart battering his ribs. Blood and sweat and mud smeared down his face.

Arrows rained down. No shields. He’d gone too far. Pain lanced through his shoulder. He ignored it. Step forward. Swing. Pain forgotten. Body numb. Axe. Swing. Sever.

It was marvelous. He’d heard the tales from the old folk back home. Those that had survived their life of raiding. Returned to the Isles of Glass to spin tales by the campfires at night. They always told tales of their first voyage. The stories were nothing in comparison.

Axe. Blood. Push. Ignore the pain.

   His head jerked forward. Light flashing through his skull, vision darkening. Dimming. Stars dancing in the darkness of his mind. Pain in his head. Numbness faded. His body ached. His head felt as though it had split. Knees buckling, he dropped to the blood-soaked mud and toppled forward. The world faded around him. Darkness.