Garalt landed hard upon the face of the black dragon, Tel'Karak Zrahl.  The beast gasped, startled by the sudden extra passenger.  For a second, Garalt stared once again into the glassy, reflective eyes of the dragon.  His reflection shown a very different Garalt that he could remember looking at so many times before.  He was no longer the gentle person he once thought he was so many years ago.  He was now a battle hardened, unrelenting soldier.  He knew that it was the only way to stop the dragon, he had to become a powerful warrior, all to end her reign.  There was just no other way.

    Garalt shook his head free of wandering thoughts and began to once again focus on the job at hand.  He would only have a few seconds before the dragon bucked him off, so he had to make this count.  Garalt grit his teeth and raised his sword, his stomach churning at the thought of what he was about to do.  It wasn't going to be pretty, he thought, but it had to be done.  Garalt could almost hear the voice of his mentor in his ears as he lifted his sword for the strike.  
    'Strike hard, strike fast,' Kullvox would have said.  She took him away, with one strike she took him away.  She would pay.  Garalt swore then, and he swore now, she would pay.