Running From the Reverent

I’m roaming the wilderness, waiting. I take a set to rest because I’ve been running for a while. I sit, next to a dead tree, hoping for a chance to prove myself against the legendary reverent. I throw my bag next to the tree…angry from finding nothing. I look around, and try to find the greater things in life. Looking around, I see some Moss Giants swinging their clubs in sheer anger of loneliness. Then I see it, in the horizon…I see a pearly white gravestone, the gravestone of a fallen warrior who was stuck and killed by something. Was it a reverent?
I pick up my bag and throw it on my shoulders. Standing up, I fix my dragon gauntlets, so none of my bare skin is visible. I pick up my well beat shield and gently used new scimitar, getting ready for my journey once again. I start at a light jog, in the direction of the gravestone. I squint, trying to focus my eyes to look for something in the distance. I stop, hearing an eerie sound, so close to the gravestone. Could it be? Then I hear some yelling. People!
I hear some foul language and a lot of yelling, along with the eerie sounds. There it is…just what I’ve been looking for. I suddenly find myself near a group of reverent hunters, fighting for their lives against not one, but two reverent. Slaying most the newly skilled men and woman, the reverent vampire goes on. The other is a reverent ork, taking the challenge of all the high levels in the clan. I watch as suddenly a get hit by this magical blow. It freezes me in place…keeping me from helping fellow fighters in this epic battle. The freeze spells finally let’s go of me. Sweating and fearing for my life, I readjust the scimitar I’m holding. That’s when I got the flashbacks of just months before.
-Months before, I roamed the wilderness in my highly skilled clan. The leader, who was a veteran at fighting reverent, led us into the deep wilderness. We got attacked by a low level reverent. I, the lowest trained in the clan, got attacked…then, the leader yells….Run! I run…as fast as my legs can take me. Knowing very little of this reverent hunting stuff, I forgot to bring food. Damn, the final fatal blow hits, gently making me faint… I start to black out.-
I refocus on the group of dying warriors and release my anger. Testing my shield once again by beating my scimitar against it, I charge at the reverent. The reverent easily targets me in the whole group. I wasn’t the best trained but pretty close. I strike the reverent with my famous hard hits. The reverent ork decides to regain health by eating. I yell, telling everyone to get over here and help. We all pray for strength to kill this reverent. Then it happens, just like in the flashback. I get hit with a huge magical attack. I start to bleed, loosing health every second. Praying, I find myself eating my swordfish in groups, while fighting off the reverent. Just like a dream, we find ourselves in an amazing situation. The reverent seems to have no food left and there are still eight of us strong. We decide to end this bloody war. We all hit it with our best moves and the reverent screams. Those must be the screams of all the death the reverent must have brought to many. We cheer!