[i]Bartuc swung his weapons like a madman, without fear or regret, every crunch of his mace was another foe dead and every chunk of flesh his axe tore from his enemy was likewise. He knew no pain as the lights of eyes shone in the dark to fend off the tide of monsters ever present on the front lines. He had rushed to the forefront with almost maniacal glee and quickly put his reputation as one of the fiercest fighters alive to the test. At the back of his mind came the simple question of.. what was he really saving? [/i]

With a stifled gasp he rose from the ground. Nothing familiar around him, that was for certain. His memory was foggy, black and patchy really, and jumbled as if something had struck him hard in the head. Vision swam for a time before orientating itself properly to his surroundings to find the templar in a small village. Those roaming the area were desperate to escape something, it seemed. Knights ran to and fro to gather what they could and others lay in the dirt trying to find rest. All Bartuc could remember was.. running. The call to retreat had come from the upper-ranks and were to be followed to the letter in all haste. Bartuc had not gone willingly, turning to fight as often as not for the sake of just one more survivor and intended to do so till it cost him his own life in the process.
The gods had smiled on him and gotten the battered warrior to Sharwood with a small number of others.

How long had he been unconcious? His armor was still on and a tad damp but otherwise serviceable. His helmet lay nearby, an empty food bowl casually strewn in the dirt. The big man moved quietly to his knees and held the helmet before his face in both hands. [color=0072bc]"So.. Others die and I still live..."[/color] Bartuc growled and nearly threw the helm in his rage but couldn't bring himself to do it. There was still purpose. Still reason for him to draw breath, when so many others were dead or worse. 
Slowly he took to his feet, sturdy and straight backed as the memories flooded back. The haze of his rage fled slowly to show him just how badly the last few days had been. Determined to be of use to his brothers and sisters in arms, he trotted off to help where he could. 

To find what would come next for him.