Xander came around the barracks for the 30th time, his spear held high above his head. He came to an abrupt stop in front of the barracks and drove his spear into the ground. Xander began to untie his bandana while taking a seat on the front steps. Hair drenched with sweat and boots finally worn in, he felt good.
Xander seems to be what most would call nocturnal. He's always awake late at night, long after the citizens and guards of Cove have fallen fast asleep. Always the last one up, but he always makes up for it.
While walking near the mountains, orc grunts and brute roars echoed off the mountain walls. Xander peered across the way at the secure orc camp. He shrugged, tugged on his helmet, and gripped his spear.
"I'll keep them orc's in their place!"
He wasn't even past the two guard post and he was being ambushed by groups of orcs. Quickly the tip of his spear cut through the weaker orcs. His feet jolting back and forth to keep up to the orc scouts. He moved deeper into the orc fort, he switched up his spear for his shield and kryss.
The ground shook violently. All of the minor orcs scattered out of the way. Xander's eyes raised to meet the on coming orc brute. His balance was lost briefly, but quickly Xander gathered himself and let the brute chase him.
Luring the orc brute out from the orc camp, Xander thought he had out smarted him. The further he ran, the same amount of orc's kept popping up. Quickly he ran back and forth fucking the orc brute and the infantry orcs.
Finally, with a loud thud, the dirt blew in every direction. The orc brute fell hard, Xander merely damaged, but completely full of pride.
He followed the trail back to cove, sheathed his kryss and strapped his shield to his back. Xander looked behind him while pulling off his helm, no followers. A bright smile held on his face, the orc's were kept in their place this night.
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