Website powered by

World of Warcraft - Dawn Comes Again

Harris was the last hope for his city against the onslaught of undead. He rode out to intercept the nightmarish horde amongst the forest, where he could use the landscape against them. Weaving through the trees he methodically slaughtered his near relentless foe. At the darkest hour of the night, being beyond exhaustion, he grasped in his hand a ribbon. His keepsake. His reason to keep fighting. Struggling up, he summoned the very last bit of strength his shaking body could muster, and returned to the grim work at hand. He swung his massive blade and rendered flesh from bone, brought death to death.

Ere long, the sun rose, and cast its glow on the carnage of the night. Muscles shaking, he rose slowly to greet the returning of the light.