The Warrior 3

The iron cleaved into the man's neck. His shoulder parted, and his body was thrown to the ground. A man's torso was thrown in two. Red. The warrior was relentless. He raged into camp and began a wild rampage. He was unmerciful. Unending. Interminable. There was only one belief, execute. His mind was a rage, barely seeing his opponents move. They appeared as still images, in a red hue, appearing as though a photograph before him. The men fell in two again and again. He was not sure how long it lasted. 

The motion suddenly stopped, and he paused. Over a dozen corpses were laying around him, severed limbs and body parts thrown everywhere. Blood drenched the battlefield. 

A tickling in his left shoulder, an arrow. Leaf blade, lucky. He threw it to the ground where it bounced. He felt along his back. Another one, he pulled it out. He will chew up some yarrow to pack into the wounds later. 

Blood on the walls, up the towers. Corpses over the turrets. He must have gotten up there somehow.

A crow cawed in the distance. It was time to leave. He needed to forage, and then move on.

KatieLynne