Athran turned around in the dust, gasping for breath.
"Damn the gods... And damn me, if I know what was this for..." he whispered. The first thing he was going after was his sword, laying afar. As always, he held onto what he knew when in doubt, and the only thing he could be sure about was that the weapon in his hands is still the same dark, wide-bladed sword that his own hands forged many years ago.
