The Sheriff pulled himself to his feet, his weapon in his hand, blood on his clothing. After being betrayed by the starstruck noblewoman, he was lucky that the thieves had wanted to see him suffer, so they'd put him against their giant. He managed to kill him, and the zealot, the one in red, the rest running away. Right now, his focus was on the ringleader, the one who spent most of their takings on beer and whores.
"Even if I die, I will be remembered-"
"No-one will remember you, Robin!" said The Sheriff of Nottingham as he killed him.
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