Tralstin glanced at the enemy. It wasn't a resident of Debon, no, it was from the frigid north. This was a frost ogre. The beast stood at a full height of ten feet, and had a club, or maybe a small tree in it's massive hands. The thing made up for it's lack of brain power in the fact that it could resist most any attack, and counter with the weapon in it's hands. It didn't help that Tralstin's legs were impeded by a full two feet of snow, and his sword wasn't the warmest thing in the world.

He flicked his gaze at the beast's face, and smiled. The ogre snorted out a cloud of white, and roared something to the plains, shaking the snow off trees. Tralstin calmly drew his two handed sword, and swung the sword once, twice, three times, all to ready for the upcoming fight. The ogre slammed the tree trunk into the ground, creating a flurry of snow, and a gouge in the earth. Once more, Tralstin smiled.