[Fantomen]

Pug stod on the battlefield, resting on the sword and gazing out over the scattered bodies. It had almost been to easy, the iron clad Agarthans shook off the rain of arrows as if it were no more than a light summer rain. And the infantry who stood before the archers had fallen like straw to the massive cave drakes and their stout riders.

Yet the smell of blood and atrocities of battle were new to Pug, well trained as he was he'd lived his life up until now in peaceful isolation underground. The surface world with all it's brightness and vivid colors made him squint and get dizzy. And the bloodshed made him feel sick, though he was careful to hide his feelings from the soldiers. It would get worse, that was for bloody sure, Pug could only hope he would harden with time.