This 100 word story originally appeared as a comment here.
He hefted his claymore, the two-hander heavy in his trembling hands. His enemies closed in around him. Steel rang on steel, flesh was carved, and men screamed as their bowels were opened. He swooned and struggled to stay upright. Blood poured from his mouth. It streamed from cuts and gashes all over his body. His leather tunic hung in shreds, yet he would sacrifice every drop of blood for his laird.
The fearsome knight with the dragon emblazoned on his armor charged. Their swords clashed, separated, and clashed again. His enemy was skilled. Implacable. The end came all too quickly.
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