You draw your sword and charge forward. The large bandit's head whips around, displaying a visage every bit as terrifying as the rest of his appearance. The big man points at you and bellows an order, sending bandits streaming out of the camp in your direction.
As the first of your attackers reaches you, you duck beneath his clumsy swing and let his momentum carry him onto your blade. The man's battle cry dies on his lips, and you pull your sword free and move forward to your next opponent.
You glance up to see one of the bandits wielding a sling, the loop of leather whirling through the air. He releases his grip, and you feel a heavy blow on the side of your head. You sink to your knees, your ears ringing, one hand pressed to the side of your skull, the other holding your sword out in front of you to ward off your attackers as best you can.
The bandits show little interest in killing you, however. Instead, they gather around, their swords drawn. One lazily knocks your own blade from your hand while another pushes you onto your back. Dazed, you can only watch as the sky above is blotted out by the form of the bandits' giant leader. He lumbers over to you and looks down, a sneer on his scarred face.
"The Great Wolf was right," he says. "This is the one." Without another word, he swings his boot savagely into your chin, and with a crunch, your world fades into darkness.
Wake Up