Barbarian Fight

Wallas sidestepped the head-splitting sword attack. Strapping on his buckler as he moved back, one of the three barbarians swung at him with a crudely crafted club. He simply lifted his shield to block the hit, unsheathed his sword, and punctured the man's fat belly. A fatal wound to be sure.

The dead man leaned over the metal as if to say something, only to start spitting out blood and dropping dead on the dirt path. The burly barbarian wielding the short sword tried to slash him and only missed Wallace by mere inches as he was taking the blood soaked blade from its victim.

As the next attack came upon, Wallas parried the sword swipe and used his shield to dig into the man's head. Blood flowed down from the vertical cut onto his face, temporarily blinding him. He moved back to clear his eyes of blood, taking the threat of another attack unlikely at this moment. Wallas regained the space between them and bashed in his side with the iron part of the buckler to distract him. The man complied and the sword sliced the meaty flesh below the shoulder of the large man. He looked up with large eyes of despair before falling over from among other things, the lack of will to live.

Wallace stared at the big man he just killed, watching the blood still spewing out of the crude amputation like a fountain, and thinking. What life could this barbarian have? Was he special? Lately he has been thinking of these things. He just shook his head; this is not the time or place to be thinking about it! During this pause in the action the third man with the club plucked his wooden mace from the dirt. He came upon Wallace with only rage, not thinking about the fact that, this was the way his first buddy died. Wallace calmly looked up, put up his shield to block death from touching him, and easily and quickly drove his sword through the man's heart.

Before the death came seconds later, Wallace looked into this man's eyes. He was disgusted; he saw only hatred and misery. The dead man slumped over the blade and Wallace let him drop. He put his foot onto the bloodied torso and pulled his sword. Wallace bent down to wipe his blade's blood off. After finishing to clean up, he had one more look at the past battle, and continued to walk down the rode, minding his own business.