Fighter's Nightmare [don't post here so soon]

[Seran]

“Don’t worry, I’ll wash you up,” he said to his weapon soothingly in a most unusual way. Fighter rose into a standing position, staring out at the monsters that had fixed their hideous gazes upon him. “What’choo looking at?” he taunted, narrowing his eyes at them. “Come on. Come at me. Take your best shot. Just try and penetrate my armor, you ugly monsters. Bring it! Do your worst! Come on, is the worst you can do is stand and stare like a bunch of…of…” He immediately recalled a word Black Mage had once used to describe someone he didn’t like. “…Nimrods?” When he remembered Black Mage, he knew it was because he was scared for his best friend. Black Mage was nowhere to be seen. “What are you waiting for? Prepare for your untimely doom, you freaks!” Before the horde of beasts could charge at him, a voice emerged and stopped their advance.
“Hold it.”
Fighter’s eyes widened, and his lungs suddenly pulled air in eagerly as he recognized the hissing voice of the one person he knew best.
“BM? Izzat you?”
Black Mage pushed his way into view, brushing at his cloak and leering down at his ridiculous pants. “Yeah, it’s – “ He suddenly paused, shooting his gaze up warily as he, too, recognized the voice of the other. “Fighter?” he asked with shock, his glowing yellow eyes blinking. “Oh! Fighter, it’s…nice, to see you.” Black Mage reached up and pulled down a wraith’s head by the collar of its ghastly robes. “I thought you took care of him, you fools. Is tossing him into a river too hard for you!” Growling, he pushed the wraith away, stepping forward. It seemed he would have to rid himself of this bothersome pest by himself. “Fighter,” he said calmly, dismissing the legions of evil with a few casual waves of his gloved hand. “I’m…glad…you still live! Come with me, we must rejoice for this horrifyingly miraculous event!”
“But…the monsters,” Fighter answered anxiously, “they’re not dead.”
“Oh, we don’t need them dead,” Black Mage answered heartily. “Why, an army of rebels much greater than these wusses is coming. I came to inform the survivors.”
“I’m so happy you’re alive, best pal!”
“Yes, but keep your voice down. Those morons will think I’m betraying them.”
“Oh, right, right.”

Fighter…

What? Who was that?

Fighter…it is I, do you not remember?

Who…?

Alas, Fighter would not be able to recognize the strange voice that seemed to echo from all around him, and yet, Black Mage acted as though he heard nothing.
“Uh, Fighter, I need to have a private talk with you.”
“Sure.”
“In the inn, alright?”
“In the inn…heheh. ‘Kay.”
Black Mage nodded and turned around, leading Fighter away to the inn. For reasons unknown, it still stood, yet it was abandoned. Clouds of dust rose into the air. Fighter coughed in the impure atmosphere, barely able to see or breathe. Gulping, he felt the dust scratch his throat and grimaced, not pleased at the taste or feel. He squinted through the dust, coughing, trying to follow Black Mage’s shadow wherever it rushed away to. They were soon standing in front of the inn, and as Fighter stood there, staring at its ruined door, Black Mage pushed him in.
“Lowest room so nobody can hear us.”