Thrum.

A second, a millisecond, a nanosecond passed. Time constantly shifting, constantly relative to the moment shared in context. This happened between Skallagrim and the man known as Scion. Time, relative between them here at this place, this water park on a small planet, orbiting a solitary yellow star.  Time, the unseen hunter of mortality. The eternal enemy stalking all things in the multiverse, to which all things eventually succumb. 
 
Within the dark Galdhr, within the eternal night the Dreamers reached out towards this moment. How long had it been? How many millennia passed before the focus of the Dreamers became one? Time, her siren call echoed throughout the multiverse, to those called eternal. 

To be sure, there had been incidents before when the Cughtagh, the champion of the Queen ventured forth into battle. The fight against a man named Worren, a fight alerting the Dreamers to an unexplored dimension. During that exploration he had come across the world known Antire, a world that held promise and instability. A world destroyed by the Cughtagh. 

Now, in this place, at this time, on this world once again the Queen was unleashing her champion, letting loose the dog of war. 
Slow, even paces measured with experience allowed the skeletal being to shift position while the man known as Scion drew forth what weapons he choose. A ripple of interest spread out from the Dreamers as the entity known as Dennis spoke. 
 
The entity was unhappy? It spoke to the Dreamers as if it was significant. It mattered not whether it was happy, unhappy or even present. Clearly this Dennis felt as if somehow its presence should concern the Dreamers. It did not. In the Galdhr some questioned why this being spoke? Others debated the intelligence of the being. Some tittered with mild amusement as it seemingly lectured the Dreamers on some point of morality.  Finally the incessant mewling’s of the entity known as Dennis ended. 

The consciousness of millions of entities focused on the man called Scion now. A tonfa and a small knife. The stance taken was interesting, it spoke of some manner of training, and perhaps it was indicative of the skill of the being before him. Perhaps but how many had taken such stances only to crumble in a few moves. 

Then the large speakers erupted in music. Stunned for a moment, time dwindling to a singular event, then peals of laughter exploded through the assembled Dreamers. 

A silver-blue shimmering rippled across the war sword, followed by a low hum. The dark energies shifted and roiled within the crystalline structure of the shield. The lattice works dissolved releasing the energies from their prison. Shifting, darkness swarming around the arm in a slow rotation, sucking in the very light around the Dreamer as streamers of amethyst energies imbued the air with a pale glow. 

From the back guard the war sword swung up and into a high guard with the tip of the blade pointing up and away from the man that stood some feet away. With a quick step the Dreamer was moving forward circling towards his right, on the left of Scion.  Closing to within the reach of his sword, setting his left leg fore and the shield covering his body, Skallagrim launched a quick, exploratory cut towards the neck of the man.

The blade moved towards the spot between the neck and shoulder on Scions left side. While this happened the left foot slipped back in a back pass, allowing a twisting of his torso to add power to the cut. This would allow Skallagrim to carry the momentum of his cut into a myriad of counter blows depending on what Scion did.