New Year's Resolution

 



Ulrich the Northman, unencumbered by the heavy armor worn by the cowards around him, waded into the fray, swinging his "borrowed" mace with devastating efficiency.

By the gods, it was a new year, and he felt great! He smashed his way through the battling men until he reached within arrowshot of the enemy king.

As poorly aimed arrows rained down - none within a sword length - he realized that it might be wise to put something between the king's archers and his tender skin.

He turned and brained an enemy knight who had just raised his sword for a killing blow. As the soldier twitched, Ulrich removed his dented breastplate and strapped it on.

But, by the time he had sorted out the unfamiliar straps, the battle had moved, and the king had departed with his retinue.

Ulrich resolved to stop playing it so safe this year. He tossed off the breastplate with a savage grin.



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