The sickly sweet smell of blood filled his nostrils, exciting him; the cries of the wounded and dying filled the air, music to his ears. Bodies beyond counting lay heaped and strewn about him, a fitting monument to his prowess.
He had laid waste all who had dared challenge him; hacking, cleaving, slicing, piercing, eviscerating…ripping flesh from bones, rending torsos asunder, carving his way into legend.
Yes, his mighty blade had most certainly feasted this day!
Now, standing at the edge of the precipice, Urlok raised his fists in the air, threw back his head and roared in triumph.