First Blood

Most stories today have an "arrow shower" scene. You know? The hero is with his back against the wall, covering himself from volley after volley of enemy fire. Classic.
The thing is, I'm pretty darn sure that they don't really convey how bloody paralizing it is.
All you hear is how the man got up in the midst of it all, shouted and ran against the archers... Since, you see, it's common logic that archers make poor infantry against a head-on charge.

And all our hero had ever known about archers were stories, but...

When you can feel the "THUD!" of each iron point striking against the little piece of wood your back is against, you can actually feel your legs turning to pulp, your head going light, your arms stiffening. You try to strengthen your sword grip, but your hands won't stop shaking.
There's only one word in your head.

FUCK.

That little piece of wood covering you is the only place in the world you can be where you wouldn't be killed. And you make yourself small. Smaller than you think you can be, when you see the death mongers strike just a feet away.

And it keeps going. THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! It doesn't stop. It won't let you get up. TH-THUD! THUD! TH-TH-TH-THUD! That little piece of wood is trembling. Soon it will be nothing but splinters.

And of course, it takes more than you or I have in ourselves to stand up. It takes a valiant, strong, commanding voice to make you take a knee, unsheath your sword and charge the enemy.

CHARGE!!!

It was the dwarf.

The merchants remained under cover. They didn't even raise their eyes.