The sun had already set over the vast land of Norrath, but for the young Berserker, it was the perfect time to venture out and hunt. Her adrenaline pumped as she sharpened her two-handed axe and strapped it to her back. She knew the risks of hunting alone, but the thrill of danger made the hunt all the more exciting.
The forest was eerily quiet, but the Berserker was undeterred. Her senses were sharp as she tracked her prey, moving swiftly through the dense vegetation. The sound of rustling leaves caught her attention, and she readied her axe.
Suddenly, a pack of gnolls charged towards her, their fierce howls echoing through the night. The Berserker let out a primal roar, the excitement of battle filling her. She swung her axe with all her might, cleaving through the first gnoll with ease.
The fight was intense, but the Berserker felt alive like never before. She parried the gnolls' attacks with ease, her muscles rippling with each strike. It was like a dance but with blood and fury.
After a few minutes of intense combat, the last gnoll fell at the Berserker's feet. She was battered and bruised, but the thrill of battle had never felt so sweet. She let out a triumphant laugh, the rush of victory coursing through her veins.
The night was still young, and the Berserker knew there were more challenges waiting for her. She took a deep breath and continued her hunt, eager for whatever Norrath had in store for her.