The sound of branches snapping, a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye, the nauseating 
stench of ogre filling your nostrils. You turn quickly as it charges out of the bushes to your side, 
half a tree clutched in its huge hands carried like a makeshift club. It swings the tree towards you 
too hard and fast to parry; rolling with the blow you feel the weight of the tree as it connects. It's 
a hard blow and yet you feel less pain than you think you should have done.

With no time to dwell on the matter you step back out of reach of the second swing, better prepared 
this time. Stepping in you make a series of quick hard cuts, the blows feeling more natural than you're 
used to; it seems easy work to slice through the ogres dirty leather armour and its dirtier hide beneath. 

The fight continues; the fluidity and strength behind your attacks continue to suprise you. It staggers 
back and attempts to bring its tree down in one last overhead swing. You step in nimbly and with a solid 
thrust push both short swords into chest, sending it toppling over backwards.

The stench of its body nauseates you one last time as the present world once more surrounds you.