Felix tried to get a few moments of sleep before the attack against the Forsworn redoubt, but although he felt tired, he didn't fall asleep. The camp was stirring, and Felix just listened the voices. Ashav was talking something about magic, but Felix couldn't tell exactly what.

Felix tossed his furs away and rose up to stand, dressing in his clothes and armor. Lastly, Felix picked up his battle-axe. It felt good in his hand, and Felix knew it was something he could trust. He tucked it under his belt, and started to walk towards a fireplace. If he was going to stay awake, he could listen a few more of Helmi and Björn's jokes. [i]They should tell those to that vinegar-pissing Dumhuvud[/i], Felix thought. [i]He could get something more to complain.[/i]

But they weren't at the fireplace, and the said fireplace had been reduced to glowing embers. It still gave some warmth, but Felix didn't linger to enjoy it. He wanted to move around, to keep the cold away, to ponder about his future and to think about the attack. Felix took a short walk just outside the camp, and thought how he would survive the attack. [i]Fights are not like in the songs, I fear.[/i] He had been in a couple tavern brawls, but mostly only as a spectator or at the receiving end of a Nord's punch. One time someone even had thrown a tomato at him. And he [i]hated[/i] tomatoes, especially rotten ones that splashed into his face.

And he had heard some tales from the grizzlier mercenaries that the fight at hand was just a small one, that there wouldn't nothing to worry about... but it was easy for them to say. Felix was as green as grass, and smelled as such.

Felix stopped for a while and listened the sounds of the world. A north wind was blowing. And... nothing else. Sure, the camp was as noisy as all of Oblivion, but the world outside of it was all quiet. The wind blew, but there were no other sounds. [i]It's just your imagination, dear Felix[/i], he thought all by himself. Felix turned around and started to trace his footsteps back.

[i]Pheeeeeeewwwww[/i], he suddenly heard and felt a brush of air next to his ear. [i]Arrow![/i], a thought ran in his head. He took his axe from his belt, crouched and looked around. The night was dark, and he couldn't spot any movement. But someone was there, that was sure. He started to make his way back to the camp with a faster pace, to warn the others of the Forsworn just outside the camp.

Then Felix heard footsteps behind him. He turned, and spotted a tall man in armour, most likely looted from some caravan, nearing him fast and his sword raised, ready to swing it. [i]Shit[/i], was the first thought Felix had in his head. The Forsworn was just a few feet away, and swung his black sword at Felix. Moving clumsily, Felix hardly dodged the blow aimed at his head, and buried his axe with haste to the belly of his opponent. The axe struck the Forsworn's armour, just slightly scraping it. The Forsworn had corrected his aim and struck Felix with the flat of his sword, and after that strike Felix head felt hazy, and he felt how he slipped into unconsciousness. The last thing he felt was that he was being dragged somewhere.