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Description
He peered out of the cave, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever had triggered the wards. The weather had worsened during the night, and it was getting close to a blizzard. The poor visibility suited him fine, he was used to relying on other senses. Not that they were exactly unhindered through the howling winds and whirling snow. Casting a glance backwards, he noticed that Princess wasn't here yet. She was probably dressing up in case she had to go out in the snow.

He twisted the hilt of his sword, and the pommelstone loosened, letting him take out the small vial hidden inside. It wasn't the right component, but it was better than no component. He bit down on the hilt to prevent from screaming as he dripped a few drops into each eye, the liquid burning like fire. As soon as he managed to control his voice, he muttered a quick series of words, and his perception changed. The white haze of the snow faded, and the world darkened, allowing him to see life instead of light. He could see trees, which glowed softly in their lack of intelligence. And dark shapes, which should have lit up, but was somehow darker than the darkness. He cursed quietly to himself. He counted three of them, but had no chance of identifying their type. His single bit of luck so far this evening was that they seemed to be dazed by the wards still.

He heard Princess trying to sneak up behind him and turned to signal her to be quiet. She looked at him with a worried frown, which puzzled him until he remembered that his eyes would look like every vein had burst. He held up his hands, and waved at her in a way that was supposed to mean "stay back, stay hidden". He clenched his teeth, and crept out into the freezing wind. His nightclothes might as well have been made of air for all the protection they offered him.

While his vision gave him better perception than he should have, he knew the others would have the same vision, maybe even stronger. And he would shine brigthly indeed to the lifesight. Discarding the stealth option, he charged at his opponents, who were still recovering from the burst of energy that had alerted him. He swinged with all his strength, and managed to take out one of them before they were ready. As he turned to face the remaining two, he saw them regaining mobility, and backed down cautiously. They lacked weapons, which marked them as either ferals or spellslingers. He had to know which they were before he chose his strategy. The two started circling him, trying to get him between them. He retreated while studying their movements, feeling more and more certain these were just ferals. Unfortunately, the cold was starting to get to him, numbing his limbs and slowing his reflexes. He looked at the vial he held in his right hand. It would be just about enough for a last trick. He doused his blade while muttering a quick spell, and flames blazed up around it. In the new light, he saw his opponents for the first time with his true sight. Tall and wiry, naked in the cold, with large fangs and clawed hands. Once human, but probably not for a long time.

The creatures backed away from the sudden flame, and Grumpy seized the opportunity to launch a ferocious attack. He hacked at them, trying to keep them on the defensive, but they were quicker than him, and for each cut he gave them, he was clawed severely in return. He could feel their lethargic venom in his blood, and his body tried to counter it with increased adrenaline. The knowledge of defeat sank in, and he abandoned all attempts to defend himself, and just hoped he would get them both. It cost him several deep wounds, but he managed to take down the second assailant. The third, badly cut and burned, turned and fled into the night. Grumpy dismissed the weak flames left on his sword, and leaned on it wearily. As he looked around, he saw that the fight had drawn them away from the cave, and he was unable to see it, and not Princess either. As the cold and the poison won over him, he hoped that the creature had actually fled, and not just went back to the cave, in realization of his inevitable defeat.

Description
He peered out of the cave, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever had triggered the wards. The weather had worsened during the night, and it was getting close to a blizzard. The poor visibility suited him fine, he was used to relying on other senses. Not that they were exactly unhindered through the howling winds and whirling snow. Casting a glance backwards, he noticed that Princess wasn't here yet. She was probably dressing up in case she had to go out in the snow.

He twisted the hilt of his sword, and the pommelstone loosened, letting him take out the small vial hidden inside. It wasn't the right component, but it was better than no component. He bit down on the hilt to prevent from screaming as he dripped a few drops into each eye, the liquid burning like fire. As soon as he managed to control his voice, he muttered a quick series of words, and his perception changed. The white haze of the snow faded, and the world darkened, allowing him to see life instead of light. He could see trees, which glowed softly in their lack of intelligence. And dark shapes, which should have lit up, but was somehow darker than the darkness. He cursed quietly to himself. He counted three of them, but had no chance of identifying their type. His single bit of luck so far this evening was that they seemed to be dazed by the wards still.

He heard Princess trying to sneak up behind him and turned to signal her to be quiet. She looked at him with a worried frown, which puzzled him until he remembered that his eyes would look like every vein had burst. He held up his hands, and waved at her in a way that was supposed to mean "stay back, stay hidden". He clenched his teeth, and crept out into the freezing wind. His nightclothes might as well have been made of air for all the protection they offered him.

While his vision gave him better perception than he should have, he knew the others would have the same vision, maybe even stronger. And he would shine brigthly indeed to the lifesight. Discarding the stealth option, he charged at his opponents, who were still recovering from the burst of energy that had alerted him. He swinged with all his strength, and managed to take out one of them before they were ready. As he turned to face the remaining two, he saw them regaining mobility, and backed down cautiously. They lacked weapons, which marked them as either ferals or spellslingers. He had to know which they were before he chose his strategy. The two started circling him, trying to get him between them. He retreated while studying their movements, feeling more and more certain these were just ferals. Unfortunately, the cold was starting to get to him, numbing his limbs and slowing his reflexes. He looked at the vial he held in his right hand. It would be just about enough for a last trick. He doused his blade while muttering a quick spell, and flames blazed up around it. In the new light, he saw his opponents for the first time with his true sight. Tall and wiry, naked in the cold, with large fangs and clawed hands. Once human, but probably not for a long time.

The creatures backed away from the sudden flame, and Grumpy seized the opportunity to launch a ferocious attack. He hacked at them, trying to keep them on the defensive, but they were quicker than him, and for each cut he gave them, he was clawed severely in return. He could feel their lethargic venom in his blood, and his body tried to counter it with increased adrenaline. The knowledge of defeat sank in, and he abandoned all attempts to defend himself, and just hoped he would get them both. It cost him several deep wounds, but he managed to take down the second assailant. The third, badly cut and burned, turned and fled into the night. Grumpy dismissed the weak flames left on his sword, and leaned on it wearily. As he looked around, he saw that the fight had drawn them away from the cave, and he was unable to see it, and not Princess either. As the cold and the poison won over him, he hoped that the creature had actually fled, and not just went back to the cave, in realization of his inevitable defeat.