Corpses littering the ground, sorcerers scattered across the battlefield, swarms of soldiers lay dead. The everlasting sounds of battle filled the air. The clash of metal on metal, the ground being pounded on by scores of feet. The screams of dying men, the stench of death. Fire crackled, energy flared. And in the middle of all the chaos was one man. Dagon
His sword flashed between him and his enemies, cutting them down. More took their place, for every one he slew, two seemed to appear. None made any difference.
Dagon swung, stabbed and hacked his way through the horde. An entire army was fighting him, and yet they were completely outmatched. Swords, spears and axes all tried to hit him, but very few managed to.
Dagon stepped in to behead a man, his sword slicing through the armour as if it wasn’t there. He tore into the army, with savage bloodlust. They tried to hit him with their petty weapons, but Dagon just shook off the injuries like they were nothing. He blocked, cut, stabbed, and kicked, his great strength making sure that he could not lose.
A man, almost as big as Dagon, charged. As soon as the swords met, Dagon knew that he was facing someone who knew what they were doing. Dagon blocked the blade, but the man before him was fast. Incredibly fast.
But the speed couldn’t match Dagon’s power. Not even close. The man was driven back a step. He gritted his teeth, determined to win against all odds. Dagon was barely even trying as he blocked the man’s strikes. The man was tired, too tired to be a challenge, while Dagon would never tire. He became aware that this was the last man. Did the army fall so soon?
Becoming bored of the fight, Dagon swung his sword the man’s midsection. The soldier blocked, and his blade shattered on impact. The man, a worthy warrior, didn’t have time to make a sound before he was cut clean in half.
Dagon inhaled deeply, breathing in the death and the ruin. Over a hundred men had died here, all at the hands of Dagon. He turned his back on the field. The dead were just some of many. The ones that lived through the battle, however, were much more important.
Mevolent would be pleased.