A loss

[Izz'orgoll]

The rivvil appeared out nowhere, materializing from the snowy fog that enveloped the mountainside.

IzzOrgoll knew at once that he was in danger and slipped into the shadows of a nearby scrub pine.

The weapons master of the Chanag Maelthra studied the rivvil,, and sweat beaded upon his forehead despite the cold wind of the Frost Mountains. Rage built within the warrior as he watched the human filth.

Despite the perception of danger IzzOrgoll attacked, landing a series of slashing blows which opened wounds on the human. The drow then turned to flee, to find another shadow to hide in.

The blades of the rivvil caught him, and with surprising quickness and precision, cutting deeply into the areas that his armour couldn't cover. The drow fell hard onto the icy path, and rolled into a defensive posture.

The blades of the rivvil came again, finding their mark. The drow was now gravely wounded, and awaited his fate. The human spat upon him and slammed the heal of his boot into the drows face sending a flood of blood pouring upon the white snow around his head.

The human spat upon the drow, cursing his very existence, and relishing in the death of such a vile creature.

The human reached down and removed the helm of the drow, peering at its broken face, and laughed. He then kicked the drow to the side of the trail and covered it in snow. The wind and the falling snow soon covered any sign of the battle.

IzzOrgoll lie motionless, unconscious, yet still alive. His only hope was that his fellow drow, who were supposed to meet him in the Cloud Peaks, might find him before he froze to death.