Just before I nearly died sleeping (I didn't actually nearly die), I felt something plunging itself into my head.

"Ah, hell." I mumbled, since I didn't really have much of a shape for a dragon's head. I had to rip the thing out, accidentally dropping it and letting it float around inside me... which, I thought rather horrifically of. [i]I don't even want to know how I'm still alive. Twice.[/i] I stamped my eyes onto the two twats trying to beat up the seemingly innocent gang of three. I didn't know who actually threw the sword, but I'd find out soon.

"You bloody, goddamn things just can't help yourselves!" I shouted as I began steadily running towards the fight, jamming the oddly sharp sword out of my body and holding it in one hand. Of course, I instantly knew I had got myself into a brewing storm. I was the third party, and so far I didn't seem too calm about it. There's always the awkward third party: Protoss in SCII, Gray Mann's robot army in TF2, the Spanish in... er, all I can is the... Inquisition. Huh. I played very few games while confined to my hospital ward. "Stop throwing junk as if it was CHRISTMAS!""

And with that loud and raging line, I delivered my first attack on someone/something; an underarm swing of a sword going upwards, considering how I didn't really take into account the weight of it. I looked like I was still shouting at the dark thing for being such a nuisance. Who's wing did I cut again? The violence and (somewhat delicious) blood covering my vision involved somehow frightened me, despite my reputation (on the Internet) of playing such violent games. I remember hearing a flew clatters of scales on an asphalt ground, but otherwise I knew I hadn't been able to take down the thing; It was just an appendage I cut, not a neck.