The march of the lone folk is bereft of haste. Leather soles are mingling with the dirt and grass. Horizon is lost in the sea the mist. Perhaps so too this wandering soul, corralled in this colossal crowd of clouds. However, those eyes, green as a spring meadow, show not a speck of worry in them.

   Should peril make itself known, even daring to sink a claw or a fang, these onward limbs can leap well and away from it. If cruelty is required, through them, he will respond in kind. A blade or two along with learned sorcery conjured from sprightly fingers can bestow a great opposition upon a foe, introducing the stark notion that this loner poses a proper threat. But such a scene of savagery is to be enacted out of necessity, mainly for self-defense, not from misguided wrath.

    The ground lifts upon the latest of steps. A small hill or an incline to a higher plain, perhaps. There is also an odd crunch beneath the boots once in a while. Those humble eyes of this wanderer in a gray cloak and hood glance down to see old bones. Whether they belong to men or beasts may require a closer look. How foreboding, this gruesome garnish of many fallen ones. On top of a hill or so one considers, the walk is paused. Although the air is rather foul, it is not a poison to the lungs, thus him drinking a cupful.

    A silhouette of something big appears tens of yards ahead of the lone folk. It towers over him, tall as a watchtower. A thunder is roaming this misty plain with a brooding ill-favored croak akin to a dragon growling into awakening. The shape of a large bronze halberd comes into form and is being held by a pair of large scaly hands of something inhuman.

    The head of this large creature is now for the fellow on the hill to behold. The head of it is a barbaric blend of three inhuman faces grafted together. The protruded nose like a snout, the wrinkles on its forehead from one temple to another further exude its monstrous mug. With all these malformations, it looks like a big ugly bat. That hideous noggin is adorned in a brass helm and its chest plate is forged from a similar make.

    It is gritting its fangs, almost grinning at the man on the short bump of earth. Curved rock-like wings open up behind it, huge as huts they are. The clutch on its giant bronze tool also tightens.

Thou who trespassed this land, return
from whence thou came or forever
rest on it as garnish thou shall.

    Its voice rattled the air, brooding and fitting a capable guardian that has not failed its duty for centuries, if not beyond a millennium.

    Unsightly as it may be, this monstrosity is worthy of a marvel for his gaze. Alas, he must defy its warning. A quest he promised to those he care for must be pursued to the desired end, for their sake. Failure can mean irreversible disaster. Already enough miseries have come and gone for the ancestors of those he promised to fulfill this quest for. Why must such a tormenting trend trouble them so for too long? Sever it with a triumphant return with the outcome divinely in their favor, moreso his.

    “I would honor your word of caution with reverence aloft, great guardian,” he declared in turn towards the colossus. There was neither doubt nor fear in his bravado, only conviction with a touch of pride. Resume, man in gray, finish prattling one’s mind out through stern tongue.
    “But I fear... I must proceed with what you would strongly reckon as a transgression and venture further into the sanctum you are protecting.”

    He soon greets it by awakening the longsword sleeping on his back. The monster growls at this invitation to dance with each other. It raises its great halberd with one of its talons, taking a large step back and planting itself well on the ground to make better its next move. The ground rumbled quickly at this posture from the giant ready to deliver this bloke into an excruciating exile.

Curious, thou art to me. Great peril
is before thee yet not a twitch of
fear on thee. So be it, trespasser.
May thou not regret this course.

    Draw a hearty breath, dear man in gray. This is but a hurdle, though a huge one at that. No creature of old should simply cease his duty, not when there is much strength and steadfastness to spare.

    Firm the hold on the hilt. Beneath the mask, squeak a smirk. The gargantuan guardian roars mightily! The fellow welcomes this playmate that is sure to bring untold pain to the unskilled. Stomp a foot ahead, man at the ready for the thrill of conflict. Leap forth with a fearless blade drawn to kiss its face with a powerful sweep. The creature hammers down its weapon, its ax-end aiming to split the trespasser in gray in half or the rest of it smashing him back to the ground.

C l a s h !

    A great flash of light and a sharp crack of thunder came from where halberd and sword met! The ground ahead of the creature shattered awake! The hill lost a chunk of its height, carved by the powerful strike from this winged beast. The trespasser cannot be found so soon. Its black eyes sweep left and right. A few more seconds to gaze around and gradually regaining its posture to stand well on its talons, it sees him many yards back. His limbs are in haste to recover from a broken stance after that came with the strenuous knockback.

    His stance has the gripped hilt near the right side of his face. The swordpoint is aiming at the guardian and the blade itself glowing like a bright silver moon, howling a hymn of upcoming harm for the brute.

    He stomps ahead! With his limbs working together to a vigorous forward stab, a large lance of stormwind gallops out of the glowing steel! Before it can act, this bright and loud phantasm hammers onto its face! Thunder cracks! Battering winds made many bits of bony garnish fly away and make scarce from what patch of green they were once resting on. The mist clears a bit more around them. A shriek of agony roars out of it before it stumbles back with two stomps. This trespasser has some fight in him.

    Confident that he can endure and triumph through this huge hurdle, the man in gray marches with a sense of haste, closing the gap between him and the guardian of this mist-filled realm. It roars again and then meets him head-on, eager to resume their dance. Re-engage when posture is fair. Ahead with power and purpose, man and monster. Whose resolve to commit to their duty shall be declared victorious when one falls for good.