The twisted blades threatened to cut Sigmar into pieces. He parried one with his hammer and grabbed the wrist of another attacker, sending it off balance. The goblin screeched as his wrist was broken and his rusty sword sent scattering. Sigmar pushed away the second attacker and swung his hammer around, smashing its weighted end into the goblin’s side. It went flying, quite literally, into a nearby crevasse. Minutes turned into hours, which turned into what felt like a day. The mountain edge grew closer but always seemed so far. He decided to trust in his instincts and the Light and go east.