I came so close!
The great warrior Wolfshead, who I now know is deemed a criminal by the peoples of this land and is accused of kidnapping an elder, was in my grasp!
We met at night near his camp on the cliffs. He was patrolling with several of his own men and I was scouting for this very place! Instead I found them, exposed and on a night patrol. My blood rushed like the waters of the Harnen.. my body buzzed to kill this man before me.
I slew one of them with a javelin, taking off his arm! The scream in the darkness brought great pleasure to my ears, and my resolve to do battle was strengthened. Another came over the hill as I made my retreat, having been victim to a volley of arrows from the camp. He was a man of tougher heart, and took not only took the slice of a javelin but a spear to his gut before he finally greeted the sky with his spirit! Just recounting this tale makes me want to stand and fight again.
Alas, my leg is still incapable of serious movement.
Then things became much more grievous. Wolfshead charged forward and kicked me with all the might of a Mûmakil, sending me to the grass! Then we exchanged blows like great warriors until we sustained too many wounds. His last remaining warrior charged me but dropped his weapon as I prepared a counter-attack. Using the opportunity I decided to pull a retreat, wishing to fight Wolfshead another day.
I barely made it out alive. He sent archers and dogs after me, but I managed to trick the dogs into thinking I was hiding in a tree by placing bloodied fabrics around the woods.
Now I rest, my right leg battered and torn from such glorious combat. I dream day and night of his prowess, the smell of his blood, the seething rage in his eyes... someday they will be lifeless, and honor shall bestow me with great esteem.
Someday.
