Richard

((OOC: Nerf this is someone does something different.))

He fell into a slight sleep, drifting in between waking and the world of dreams. He was in the battle again, but this time there was a thick mist. Yellow eyes, pale as the moon, fierce as an animal, stared at him wherever he looked. There was only one, but it followed him, no matter where he turned. At his feet purple shadowy rodents growled at him, but gorged on the flesh of the dead and not him. A silverly light hung in the distance. He wasn't alone, he was in a platoon. Gawair was shot through the eye, the shaft of the arrow deep into his skull. Kilo, a warforged, head looked up to him, unmoving. He must have been hacked off with an axe. Carter's head was crushed in as if someone had took a club too it, his long beard flowing into a river. But there was no enemy, where was the enemy, all there was were the rats and the eyes, big as plates with no face, nose, or hair.

Riiichard.

A rat attacked his legs.

He awoke with a cold sweat and a startled but quiet, 'ha' as if he was having trouble breathing before. The rat's squeals had awoken him from his unpleasant dream. Privately he thanked the evil rodent. He was dressed in his armor, sword and shield by his side, and on his neck there was a silver flame.

He was silent in the night.