In the strange dawn before the battle Arc lost all strength to fight. His thoughts fell once again to his now soulless brother, specifically how a once content boy could become so consumed by a hate nobody saw. Just then as if to stir his thoughts Arc saw him from atop the battlements and their eyes locked. They both knew Xyzex would fall. How they knew this neither could tell, they just did. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Arc vaguely noticed General Vok telling him to launch the sign of war. He aimed and shot an arrow through a torch; the battle had started.
Arc just watched his brother fight , now and then covering him with a small volley. Xyzex would fall but Arc would do all he could to slow that even if his brother was a monster with extremely homicidal tendencies. As he was knocking another arrow he saw a short sword slice Xyzex's torso and his brother fell. Xyzex was helpless, his weapon of choice a battle axe was considered a powerful clumsy beast of war. In his hands the blade seemed to glow with an unmatched elegance and beauty but he was surrounded, no room to swing he was doomed. Arc was filled with a rightous anger, launching great swarms of lethal projectiles. He emptied his quiver and fell many a man, But that was not enough. Arc thought quickly pulling arrows out of the dead and firing before he too joined them. He eventually ran out of dead men, he looked up he was the last archer.
Arc threw down a rope and shot down it. If he fell it would be in the same way his brother did. Pulling out his sword he dived in and cut his way to his brother. chopping right and left he was soon standing on a body pile. Cleaving the helms of all that came within striking distance, friend or foe. In his head he could only think of his hate for the Kingdom of Zephyr. Their green banner with a white eagle flying west, flying over the siege tower. He vowed he would destroy their capital city of Gawain if it killed him. As if in answer to his oath his fight came to an end as a knife sunk slowly into his back all but killing him.
When he awoke Arc realized that the battle was over and he was alone on his body pile. Beside him lay his trusty long sword which he had won for his great deeds as a kings ranger. He silently remembered his many quests, slaying the Gnot. The Gnot was a particularly gruesome monster with three heads, one a goat and two lion heads, which would impale and eat its many victims. Another deed was killing off the Giful tribe. They were a group of nomads that were considered barbarians although they were more advanced in may ways. His final great deed was to rid the capital city of Lunox of the Qurit gang. They were a nasty group that sold drugs and weapons to highwaymen and such reaping a nice fat profit. Grabbing the ornate and bloody sword arc pushed himself up. Stumbling he looked for help. Luckily a farmer was passing through the area. When the farmer saw the wounded men he steered toward them.
“Mind giving us a lift?” inquired Arc.
“Not at all,” answered the farmer.
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