The battlefield was a cacophony of clashing swords, grunts, and war cries. The sun was beating down on the fighters, and dust was flying everywhere. I had my monocular out, observing the battlefield with intense focus.
The brute force minion was a towering figure, easily towering over his opponents. He was built like a brick wall, and his massive sword was equally impressive. He fought with ferocity, his movements fluid and calculated.
The enemy warriors were nimble, dodging and weaving around the minion's attacks. They were smaller in stature but no less determined. They knew they were outmatched by the brute force of their opponent, so they used their agility and quick thinking to their advantage.
I watched as the intelligence commander ordered the archers to attack one of the enemy warriors. Dozens of arrows rained down on him, and he fell to the ground, writhing in pain.
