...And here I stand, with my back to the cliff, facing all odds in order to keep my kingdom from falling. Hit after hit after hit, I sustained myself through the battle. War horns in the distance confirmed the thought of reinforcements I was afraid of. Regaining my stance, I used my claymore to deflect any incoming attacks. I felt the rubble begin to slip as my foot braced more and more against the attacks, slowly sliding further towards the edge. I managed to gut an unlucky soldier, his body momentarily blocking any other soldiers from entering my reach.

I could barely hear the sound of my breathing over the chaos. I was panting heavily, trying to regain my balance after the last attack at me. I was surrounded, a thousand to one, facing certain doom, all on my own. I could feel my arms tire as they tried holding up the five pound steel long sword, faltering at the thought of another fight. Why hadn't they tried another attack on me? Simply killing a single soldier wasn't enough to keep them at bay.

And that's when I saw him. Slowly, from out of the crowd, a man began to get closer and closer. He was an entire head over any other soldier on the battlefield, and by the way the other men moved out of the way, he obviously commanded some form of respect. I knew all too well why. He unlatched his shield from his back and readied it against his sword. I also regained my original stance, knowing he would be my end, if it weren't for this cliff. I began plotting what moves he would take in order to accomplish my death, and I could easily tell he would try and knock me off. Sure, it wasn't honorable to do so, especially in a one on one battle, but there was a war going on. He needed his strength for later battles, and I knew he'd go for it. So, of course, I used it to my advantage.

The warlord suddenly shifted in the mud and bolted towards me, shield first, but I was already a step ahead of him. I parried to the left and let him charge too far forward. He stopped in time to meet the cliff face, but remained wobbly as he attempted to back away. I used this to strike swiftly at the viking, my sword cutting clean through his shoulder blade and spine. I could feel as my steel began to grind against his bone, smooth and swift. This obviously wouldn't be as easy for him to recover from. He cried out in pain and arched his back, dropping his sword in the mud and holding the wound.

I brought my sword around for another hit, this time striking him clean across his back laterally. This time the warlord yelped and couldn't seem to comprehend the pain. Lastly, I stood straight and brought my sword arm down, using my hand to gently push the man forward. In his wincing, he leaned forward (With a little help from me,) and tumbled over the side. I peered over, watching his body hit the cliff face once before descending below the treeline and disappearing from sight. The crowd behind me gasped, unsure how their leader seemed to be killed so quickly.

I sighed heavily, taking in a deep breath as I looked a the sight before me. In the distance, between where I was and the mountains in the distance, was one of the greatest castles ever constructed in the history of the world... and it was currently ablaze, filled with vikings and samurai. The smoke trailed high into the sky, no doubt visible for miles. I breathed deeply once more before turning away from the sight to face the onslaught of vikings from the northern realm of Valkenheim. Each of them a little weary after watching their leader die. They all had backed off a bit, giving me a bit of breathing room. But, I was still outnumbered, and I put the thought of winning out of my mind. These men were all here to kill me, and whatever was left of my regiment. I was prepared, though.

This world had been reduced to ashes time and time again, after the Great Fall a millennia ago. Now, three factions divided up the known world, constantly battling each other. Over what? What was the original goal of war? No one seems to know the true meaning of this fight anymore. It's simply always been this way. Everyone assumed war was just another part of life. But did it need to be? Who says we need to bleed and die for a cause no one knows about? If my honor weren't on the line, I'd drop my sword at this moment and let them slaughter me. But I knew I needed to go down swinging. I would not stand idly by as my land, my people, my home was torn apart. No, if they wanted what was mine, they needed to get through me first.

I smiled softly under my helmet, listening to the trees sway in the soft wind of Ashfeld, dusk just falling over the land. The beautiful scenery giving me some peace in my final moments. I felt the tug at my arms and the ache in my knees as I slowly came back to reality, and the situation I was facing. "For glory." I said to myself, low enough to give myself some courage. The reason I won't give up. The reason I wouldn't ever run from a fight. "For honor." I finished and raised my sword, just as the Valkenheim soldiers charged. I began my swing early to anticipate the fight as I became enveloped in darkness. I would not be known as a man who died without a fight.

I am Daubeny, and I will not go quietly into the night.