Voice awoke, startled, in a cold sweat, and very tired. He could barely
lift his arms to wipe the sweat from his brow.
"What awoke me?" he thought. He gained enough strength to stand up from his bed and walk around the room. He walked onto the balcony and looked out. It was a very muggy night, the clouds were blocking the moon, and there were very few stars shining.
"Not a very nice night tonight," he said aloud. He started walking back to his room when he heard a muffled sound. He quickly spun around and looked to the bushes outside his balcony. He noticed a figure crawling out from the bushes. He wondered who it was and if they were hurt.
"Are you okay?" he called out. The person looked up, and as they did, the moon came out of the clouds and shone brightly in the front area of his home. The person was a woman, dressed in dark green cape that was crossed over her body and half of her face so her identity could be kept a secret.
"Ye." she was trying to say before spinning around. Voice noticed it too. There was something coming. The woman stood, frozen.
"She won't move!" he thought. He looked around his balcony for something. He found it, his trusted war hammer. He jumped down from the balcony, rolling. The fall stunned him for a time. As he tried to sit up, he saw the woman fighting someone. He grabbed the war hammer tightly and stood up. He ran towards the two fighters.
"Stay away!" he yelled, but quickly changed his tune. The fighter, who seemed to be a man, turned around and swung his broadsword at Voice. Voice quickly jumped back and started to lose his balance. The man quickly drew his attention back to the woman. Voice regained his composure and grabbed his war hammer with two hands.
"Stay your hand sir, or I shall be forced to attack!" Voice bellowed. The man paid no attention and kept attacking the woman. Voice saw the man strike her down with the back of his hand. The man then spoke something in a dialect that Voice was unable to determine, and then rose his sword above his head. Voice then charged at the man, knocking him down on the ground. Voice noticed that he was wearing armor, probably shadow platemail. He smiled, and patted his war hammer.
"You do not know who you are dealing with boy. This is none of your concern," the man spoke in a raspy voice.
"Anyone who fights outside of my home and attacks people that are not as strong as them are my concern, now turn and leave this place at once," Voice demanded. Instead, the man attacked Voice. While the man had a sword, he also had bulky platemail armor. However, the man moved very swiftly for someone who had heavy armor on. He moved like it wasn't even on in the first place, and Voice was having trouble dodging his attacks.
The man swung but Voice blocked the blow with his war hammer and with the wooden end uppercut the man in the chin.
"He's stunned," Voice thought to himself. Voice quickly moved into fighting stance and swung with all his might. He struck the man right in the middle of the chest plate he was wearing and sent the man on the ground. Blood was running from his mouth and Voice thought he was dead.
He had almost forgotten about the woman until she stirred again. He turned around and noticed that she was an elf, because her cape and hat that she was wearing fell off from being flung to the ground. He couldn't stop staring at her. He thought she was beautiful. She had dark brown hair and enticing green eyes. He thought that elves didn't have green eyes, or at least he heard that somewhere.
"Thank you sir. Who are you? Why would you attack him? Don't you know who he is? You could have been hurt!" she said frantically. She seemed stressed out and relieved all at the same time.
"I am fine. Come in, rest," Voice said, inviting her into his home. She protested.
"I can't, it would put you in more danger than you already are in. There is much you need to know about me and much I cannot tell you. I cannot even tell you my name. I am sorry, but I must leave. I shall see you again, I am sure of it. And you won't see the last of the men you have killed. His kind do not take lightly to those who kill their comrades. Stay alert sir. I am sorry," she said, and ran off.
"But." Voice tried to get out. He was too late, she had gone. Voice stand, war hammer by his side, hurt. Not by the attacks, but by the woman who had captivated him. He was hurt because he believes he will never see her again, and because he thought that it was a dream.
"What awoke me?" he thought. He gained enough strength to stand up from his bed and walk around the room. He walked onto the balcony and looked out. It was a very muggy night, the clouds were blocking the moon, and there were very few stars shining.
"Not a very nice night tonight," he said aloud. He started walking back to his room when he heard a muffled sound. He quickly spun around and looked to the bushes outside his balcony. He noticed a figure crawling out from the bushes. He wondered who it was and if they were hurt.
"Are you okay?" he called out. The person looked up, and as they did, the moon came out of the clouds and shone brightly in the front area of his home. The person was a woman, dressed in dark green cape that was crossed over her body and half of her face so her identity could be kept a secret.
"Ye." she was trying to say before spinning around. Voice noticed it too. There was something coming. The woman stood, frozen.
"She won't move!" he thought. He looked around his balcony for something. He found it, his trusted war hammer. He jumped down from the balcony, rolling. The fall stunned him for a time. As he tried to sit up, he saw the woman fighting someone. He grabbed the war hammer tightly and stood up. He ran towards the two fighters.
"Stay away!" he yelled, but quickly changed his tune. The fighter, who seemed to be a man, turned around and swung his broadsword at Voice. Voice quickly jumped back and started to lose his balance. The man quickly drew his attention back to the woman. Voice regained his composure and grabbed his war hammer with two hands.
"Stay your hand sir, or I shall be forced to attack!" Voice bellowed. The man paid no attention and kept attacking the woman. Voice saw the man strike her down with the back of his hand. The man then spoke something in a dialect that Voice was unable to determine, and then rose his sword above his head. Voice then charged at the man, knocking him down on the ground. Voice noticed that he was wearing armor, probably shadow platemail. He smiled, and patted his war hammer.
"You do not know who you are dealing with boy. This is none of your concern," the man spoke in a raspy voice.
"Anyone who fights outside of my home and attacks people that are not as strong as them are my concern, now turn and leave this place at once," Voice demanded. Instead, the man attacked Voice. While the man had a sword, he also had bulky platemail armor. However, the man moved very swiftly for someone who had heavy armor on. He moved like it wasn't even on in the first place, and Voice was having trouble dodging his attacks.
The man swung but Voice blocked the blow with his war hammer and with the wooden end uppercut the man in the chin.
"He's stunned," Voice thought to himself. Voice quickly moved into fighting stance and swung with all his might. He struck the man right in the middle of the chest plate he was wearing and sent the man on the ground. Blood was running from his mouth and Voice thought he was dead.
He had almost forgotten about the woman until she stirred again. He turned around and noticed that she was an elf, because her cape and hat that she was wearing fell off from being flung to the ground. He couldn't stop staring at her. He thought she was beautiful. She had dark brown hair and enticing green eyes. He thought that elves didn't have green eyes, or at least he heard that somewhere.
"Thank you sir. Who are you? Why would you attack him? Don't you know who he is? You could have been hurt!" she said frantically. She seemed stressed out and relieved all at the same time.
"I am fine. Come in, rest," Voice said, inviting her into his home. She protested.
"I can't, it would put you in more danger than you already are in. There is much you need to know about me and much I cannot tell you. I cannot even tell you my name. I am sorry, but I must leave. I shall see you again, I am sure of it. And you won't see the last of the men you have killed. His kind do not take lightly to those who kill their comrades. Stay alert sir. I am sorry," she said, and ran off.
"But." Voice tried to get out. He was too late, she had gone. Voice stand, war hammer by his side, hurt. Not by the attacks, but by the woman who had captivated him. He was hurt because he believes he will never see her again, and because he thought that it was a dream.