A single hero leads his archers to rain hellfire on the horde of mounted invaders, holding them off successfully, wave after wave, such that his fair townsland is saved, and the invaders can get no closer to the brilliant city beyond the town.
Legends are sung for all time of the great Hero of Flying Arrows, whose sharp projectiles stained the sky the color of steel and wood, the lone rock who stood against the crashing waves of the ocean, and parted its waters. Such be the tale of the bards who sing of he who defeated what was unmatched in the open, for the unstoppable force, strong as the waves made of men and steeds, met an object easily moved, yet was deflected as nothing but a breeze.
