Calimir had taken out his bow when he heard Aerin's warning. Standing back from the group he fired a few arrows at the oncoming Wild Men before they were too close to his group to aim at anymore. He drew a dagger, the only other weapon he had, and crept close to the fire. Calimir bit his lip, feeling intensely useless. Why had he not brought a sword?
One of the cannibals crept up beside him. He saw it coming and swiftly kicked out at it before it could strike at him. The man fell back with a loud grunt. Turthol dispatched him with a swift swing of his sword. Calimir looked up at the ranger, "Thank you", he said.
Turthol grinned at him. "Anytime," he panted. Calimir looked around the camp, but most of the wildmen seemed to have scattered or been killed. Rangar was sitting on the back of a horse gripping his sword in both hands and looking around suspiciously. Carmalita stood panting by the fire. Everyone seemed unhurt. Calimir heaved a sigh of relief and began collecting his arrows. He hated fighting.
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The seasons fall like silver swords, the years rush ever onward; and soon I sail, to leave this world, these lands where I have wander'd. O Elbereth! O Queen who dwells beyond the Western Seas, spare me yet a little time 'ere white ships come for me!
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