#room three

With a mighty swing, he crashed the head of his hammer into the lead Ogrim’s reaching hand, but it barely slowed the creature down. With almost a contemptuous swipe, the creature dug serrated claws deep into Korgul’s abdomen, ignoring the thick leather and chain armour he wore. He had rarely felt such pain before, and what made it worse that there was so much of it. 

The sickly grey creature laughed again, lifting the half-orc up by the claws in his stomach, causing Korgul to drop his hammer. Then the creature flung him away like refuse, causing Korgul to fly across the room and smack into the wall that had fallen to cover their exit. 

The brief lull in battle enabled the sound of his spine breaking to be heard. It was almost a dull crack, and Korgul’s legs pooled underneath him in what should have been a painful way. But he didn’t feel it. There was a strange cold that he suddenly felt from the middle of his chest down, a numbness that couldn’t be explained. The wound in his stomach didn’t even hurt anymore. 

He looked up, knowing it was dumb and he could hurt himself worse, but did it anyway. There was a crack in the wall. Deep, with chunks of stone flaking off of it. No wonder his back was broken. It was amazing he was even alive. He heard the Ogrim roar, and fumbled at the belt knife he wore, trying to draw it.