Metal against metal, the swords clash, red sparks flying into this crimson colored sky. A grunt escapes Dakarr’s dry mouth as he charges at his opponent, fists clenched tightly around his weapon. His sword passes through the skeleton and is then yanked out, bones clattering to this blood splattered ground.
‘Thank god…’ Dakarr grumbles, sheathing the sword and stepping over the mess of bones. Placing a hand to a wound on his chest, he stumbles through the quiet battlefield. In the horizon he saw something flicker, at first he thought it was the sun… But no, it was fire, fire coming from a dragon.