An army of one

[Mephistopheles]

The fight on the bridge was difficult, a painstaking reminder that even the strongest of warrior's can fall to many blades. When the line broke Vern barely bulled his way through to the hemp necktie Inn using his last healing potion. Inside the protective circle of the holy cross he rested for a short time before dipping and weaving into the undead ranks and back, this was not an honorable stand in the name of the gods, nor was it for valiant songs to be sung about him, it truly was only him and his weapons smashing and breaking the undeads a tinge of battle lust tainted his expression as he took so many down. His battle was interrupted twice once by Velisai and once again by Allesaina, instinctively he wanted to help them as fast as he could so that he can simply get back to destroying the undead. For hours he swept through the seemingly endless horde until it eventually didn't seem so endless. He eventually passes out from exhaustion, slumped against the cross. When he awoke he blinked looking at the devastation he had caused, "my gods.. I did this?" He could hear a gruff laughter itching at the back of his mind, "Yous real warrior nows, nub play times no more, dis wud you made fer...tuh destroy dem, all dem undead all dem bad tings, dey lied to us... it's us now we is one and dem bad tings shall knows fear"