I had a hammer in one hand, a spear in the other. Break the hands, stab the head. Break the legs, stab the head. Stab the hand, break the head. My adventurer slaughtered his way through dozens of bandits and savage wildlife, and even fell into the caverns by accident. After killing a jabberer, a few draltha, and a pair of blind cave ogres, plus a few crundles, I encountered my equal: a cave dragon.
I could feel the beast's every movement... Smell it's breath as it moved through the air. The tip of it's tail twitched. That leg muscle tensed a little. In response, my hammer arm tensed in unison, the same minuscule movement, registered by both combatants. I was slowly backing towards the wall behind me, crushing the odd blue moss under foot. Once my back finally reached the wall, I placed my spear against the wall. A single rock was dislodged from the wall, tumbling down beside my iron boot. The beast took a pair of steps forward, ever cautious of my hammer arm. While the battle of flesh had yet to begin, we were already years into a war of wills. The moment the dragon heard the rock tumble, it charged. I reached quickly into my bag, past the jabberer skull, draltha tooth, and blind cave ogre hand, bumping into several pieces of stolen food, before I found the treasure I longed for: a steel carving knife. I threw the glistening, infinitely sharp blade at the dragon, spinning end over end, reflecting light around. The dragon, anticipating this move, dodged, the blade falling uselessly where the beast resided moments ago. As I grabbed my spear, the dragon charged: claws extended, it cut into my head, the whole construct falling into a pile of gore. And so, I was vanquished.