After what felt like forever he began to rise from his blissful submergence, a harsh scent filled the air, snorting in disgust he flexed his shoulders as he looked around him, five figures had started to come up the hill, glaring at them he turned to see two others circling from behind.

The ones that had made it up the steep hill were dressed in armor and clothes much like his, the ones from behind were clothed in light wool shirts and pants, and had leather straps around their shoulders. Long bows rested taunt their hands as they balanced an arrow.

Grunting to himself he mumbled in irritation, "Two warlocks and Rogues; plus three Archers," wrinkling up his nose he added in a disgusted voice, "and something big that smells really bad."

Quickly exiting the spring and reaching for the black sheath that sheltered his sword; he drew the blade as they approach with a nasty expression on their faces, memories of the night before began to swim through his mind. He remembered having a drink while playing some darts and winning, the ones that had been playing against him was the sort that didn't like to lose.

It appeared they were back for round two, with some of their friends; the foul smell that caused him to turn up his nose appeared over the hill with the others, the foul looking green creature stomped up with the others, his breath heaving as he did. Lifting his sword he shifted on one foot so he was facing the ugly creature, sighing, he mumbled in a worried voice, "Darn, an Ogre, and a big one at that."

Sizing up the situation he figures that taking out two or three of them would be fairly easy, but that Ogre posed tiny problem. Leaping into the air he quickly took out the rogues, one of the Warlocks send a ball of fire flying at him, lifting his blade Marrok deflected it and watched with a smile across his face as the fire went soaring into the Archers causing the wooden bows to flame up.

Next he knocked out the two warlocks and attempted to whack the ogre in his jewels with the hilt of his sword. The Ogre proceeded to try and use Marrok's head and body as a punching bag, blocking a few hits Marrok darted around the Ogre confusing him and then went for the jugular wrapping his hands around the Ogres ugly neck. After a few gasps for air, the big guy finally went down. Although Marrok has a few more bruises than yesterday, he is glad no one was killed for he had vowed to never kill again, which sometimes poses a problem because others do not share his sense of honor; trying not kill someone who is trying to kill you never goes well.

Quickly getting dressed in his still dirty clothes, a pang enters the pit of his gut. Rather than stick around to see the group wake up, he wonders off into the deep woods where he could snack on the various plants and fruits nature provided. Since his first transformation Marrok has enjoyed the solitude that comes with the wild, after munching on some berries that grew in a large bundle nearby, he decides to dress his wounds and take a rest. No matter how secluded a place he could never truly rest. But exhaustion overtook him and he soon fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.