The traveler keeps his head down as he treads through the thick blizzard. Although he is in an arctic region, as well as a blizzard, his thick wool cuirass shields him from the wind, his tattered cape flicking behind him. A silver blade dangles at his side as he steps. Through the snowfall, he catches the silhouette of a mountain very near. Inside is what he came for. What he sought was no treasure, no riches. Inside the cave in the mountain there slept an arctic ogre that had been terrorizing local villages. He reaches the mouth of the cave and steps inside. Water drops from icicles to the floor of the dark cave. The man has a keen sight for the dark, and is not bothered by the lightlessness of his surroundings. As he walks further into the cave, he draws his sword of silver. A grunt echoes through the tunnel. The man readiies himself for battle. A white shape appeared down the tunnel, growing as it rapidly approached. White fur swung as it ran, saliva whipping out of its gaping mouth. Beady black eyes bore down on the man as the thing approached. When almost near, it leapt into the air, clasping its fists together above its head, ready to bring them down in a mighty blow. As it swung down, the man stepped aside at the last moment as to give the beast the illusion of success. After it noticed that it had hit only the ground, it looked to the side and made a sweeping hook that caught the man in the stomach, hurling him crashing through an icicle and into the wall. Spikes of ice fell from the ceiling, one landing in the beast's back. It roared and dashed at him, but he dodged away, not hesitating this time. Quickly, he grabbed the fur and climbed to the back of the ogre.He lifted his blade, pointed it toward the neck of the thing, and thrusted. At that moment, he was proud to wear the orange emblem of the slayer across his chest.