The crushing weight of Torian's blade was absolute. It was the weight of the mountain, the weight of the North, pressing down on a single point of failure.
Dain Ragnor was buried to his knees in the shattered earth of the Proving Grounds. His arms, holding the tower shield above his head, were numb, the muscles trembling so violently they felt like liquid. The hydraulic hiss of Torian's pistons was a constant, mocking sound, a machine screaming its dominance over flesh.
"Is that it?" Torian roared, his face inches from the rim of Dain's shield, spittle flying. He put his full body weight behind the thrust. "Is this the famous Shield of Azurefall? You're just a doorstop! Break already!"
Dain grit his teeth, blood leaking from his nose and dripping onto his tunic. His vision was tunneling, gray spots dancing at the edges.
"I... am... holding..." Dain wheezed.
