The best way to describe the way Isaac fought would be a waltz,every attack perfectly in beat, and with every beat, one fell. His blade did a practiced dance, no room for error or variation, just a slow, perfect killing.

In a matter of less that a minute, all the bandits lay dead on the ground, their corpses glistening with blood, a look of a shock on their face.

Isaac’s dance came to a close with his fullblade slammed into the ground longways, the only real way to stop the perfect momentum of the weapon.

Isaac sighed as he looked about on their bodies, That was easy, too easy… Issac thought to himself. Suddenly he heard a noise that sounded like a small animal had darted by him, and then a searing pain in his back. It was an arrow.

Isaac, tried to locate his aggressor, but the shadows played favorites, and hid it. This mystery didn’t stop the arrows though, they just kept coming, each one hitting it’s mark. Of course, an Elf…