The Warrior: A Fictional Narrative

The rain beat down on the sundered battlefield as the lone warrior struggled to find shelter. In his current state he would not stand a chance should he be attacked though the piles of dead enemy and ally spoke that who or whatever had caused the sundering had left no survivors except him. He glanced ahead and saw what he thought might be a cave if he approached and it was just an indentation in the small cliff he’d most likely die here and his most likely unintentional sparing would be for nothing. He inhaled deeply and released in a painful shuddering breath he was sure his ribs were broken he decided to take his chances with the thing he hoped was a cave and started toward it. His normal confident stride now a pitiful limp from an arrow
It wasn’t until the glowing eyes of the wolf were staring at him from the edge of the light of his small fire that he realized it was there. Acting on instinct he drew a stick from the fire before it got to brave taking his battered broadsword in the other but now that he was aware of their presence he could sense a total of five outside the small indentation it wasn’t a longtime before they struck. The first lunged from the shadows he raised the torch just in time to set it ablaze the next followed shortly after he brought his sword up and it skewered itself on the dull blade the third came from behind and nearly ended the battle, but he whipped around faster than he thought himself capable and hit it in the side with the torch it went flying into the wall and slumped to the ground he looked on incredulously wondering what he’d done then watched in awe as the fourth wolf was skewered by an arrow and the fifth howled out in pain as a shadowy figure jumped down on it. When the figure turned around the warrior gasped and pointed his sword at the figure it was an elf woman in full armor under a black cloak she had two daggers sheathed in a double scabbard and a bow in