I sank to my knees, sword loose in my hand. The adrenaline that fuelled me through my battle with the wyvern burned away. Wearily my chin dropped to my chest. The long, laborious battle with the wyvern would leave scars; my shield splintered early, split by the beast’s wicked tail. If it hadn’t been for my traps, laden with ice magic, I would have perished.
Catching a glint of gold, I stumbled to my feet. There it was: ‘Soul Cleaver’, right at the edge of the wyvern’s nest. Finally, with the magic sword in hand, my true adventure could begin.