“The Hero Of Arosoc”
Sam slumped back against the rain-slicked rock wall behind him, the mud under his feet slowly sank down, creating a suction around his boots he knew he would not easily pull out of. But there were more pressing matters to attend to, his eyes drifting down to his side. He could see the leather had been cut clean through, he didn’t know how deep into his side the blade cut and he frankly didn’t want to. The thought sent vivid images of the other wounded men he had seen in battles before this, the wounds left gaping on their bodies. The rain beat down on him washing the blood seeping from the gash away, and some of the sweat pooled on his brow too. It was cold, bitter cold, biting and stinging with every drop. Or perhaps you just have a fever Sam, wounds like this lead to fevers. He closed his eyes letting the cold settle into his skin, hoping if he did have a fever this would help lower it a little.
