The Brave Warrior
The brave warrior is fighting an endless battle. He moves his sword expertly slicing through his foes. Their limbs litter the ground. Their blood rain down on the field around him. As he dances between his foes, slicing and stabbing with ever expert swing of his mighty sword, more foes come to the attack. Each one angrier than the last more pissed than the first that had fallen. The swarms of the foes surround the brave warrior. His muscles start to burn. His sword is starting to get heavier with every stroke. His body starts to get stiff. But still the foes still attack. The brave warrior still fights until the last foe is standing or he is over taken by them. He fights with all of his might, but still the foes come joining the attack. The brave warrior turns and remembers he is all alone in this battle. No one is there to watch his back, to help him, and to help him to escape from the attack. Why was he alone? He couldn’t say, but the fact his he is alone and he needs help. The foes stop and circle him. They know he is weak. The brave warrior tries to keep them at bay. Seeing their snarling faces, with their blood cover leathery armor, and their crude weapons, and as they are looking at him knowing that he is finished and no more strength to fight. They just look at him. The brave warrior had a moment to catch his breath, when all of a sudden an arrow flew from somewhere in the crowd and landed right in the brave warrior’s neck. He could feel the arrow as if it was a part of his body. He still tries to fight, but another arrow hit his leg, and then he saw a foe throwing an axe at him. As he watch the axe get closer and closer. The brave warrior thought he was a fool to think he could fight them by himself.