I'll give it a go, more for the practise than anything else as it's my first. I hope you enjoy it.

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Brother Fear had left the monastery 20 days ago, in this time he had travelled down through the mountain passes and foothills before emerging into the farmland that had held the great city of the first Father Soul’s day. The city was long dead now and most of the stones had been removed by farmers to build their own homes. The monk travelled alone as all the ones who felt the need to travel the land did at first; the start of the journey was the time to find himself and hone the skills taught to him.

He spent the days walking and landing aid where it was needed and the nights sleeping under the stars or in a barn if it was offered. As he walked this day he thought back to the day his parents enrolled him in Gods service, he was 5 years old and by far the smallest child there, his name was gained due to his timidity and starting at shadows. He was the same right up to his 8th birthday when he began to learn the arts of war, he was still the smallest boy there, and always would be, but he took to the training as if he was destined for this alone. He kept his name for a different reason now, for now he showed no fear and often, in the first days, exploded into a berserker rage; it took years for him to learn to contain the rage. Fear was always at the top of his class and, in the years following his mastery of his rage, excelled beyond any other.

Later he felt the calling to leave the safety of the monastery and travel the land so applied to Father Soul for permission.

On this day as he passed a river that opened into a wide pool he decided to make camp early and did so a way back from the pool. The sun was shining and it was hard to think of any evil in the world, and besides, as soon as he saw the pool he wanted to swim. He stripped to his trousers and padded off to the pool. He cleaned the dirt from his clothes and laid them out to dry then waded into the pool to swim. The water was cold at first but he quickly became accustomed to it and it was very pleasant to float in the water with the sun beating down from above, after a while he emerged and headed back to camp.

As he approached his camp he heard voices raised in argument and as he got nearer he saw 5 men searching through what little was in his pack. One of the men heard him as he approached and called to his friends, when the rest of them saw him they spread out to form a semi-circle in front of him.

“What can I do for you Brothers” asked Fear.

The largest man in the centre of the semi-circle snorted and said “Brothers he calls us, well if we are brothers he can share his gold with us”

“I have no gold” replied Fear “I travel the land and work for my food and lodgings, anything else I need God supplies. You have already searched my pack; you saw that there was no gold.”

At this the large man grew red in the face “No-one travels without gold, you must have buried it somewhere, give it to us and we might let you live” he said patting his sword hilt.

“Why the talk of death” asked Fear “What I have you are free to share, but I have no gold and cannot give what I do not have.”

“You think you can mock me” cried the man as the rest of the man readied their weapons, there was one bow, two clubs, one held an axe and the leader had the only sword. “Give me what I want or you die here”

Placing his clothes on the ground Fear straightened “I have no wish to hurt you, but know that I will defend myself”

At this the leader laughed and his men sniggered, they saw a man who stood at only five and a half feet and lean with it, if they noted that he moved like a dancer they were five to his one. The leader wrenched his sword free of the scabbard as the man with the bow let fly, Fear swayed to the side as the arrow narrowly missed his chest and reached to his belt. Steel flashed in the afternoon sun as the shuriken flew across the camp site and buried itself in the leader’s throat. When they heard the gurgling cry two men dropped their clubs and ran for the trees, the other two looked at each other then the bowman reached for the fallen sword

“That was our cousin you killed, bastard, and I’ll have your heart for it” yelled the one who now held the sword and both men rushed at Fear.

Fear spun low and right and took the axemans legs from under him as the sword flashed over his head, continuing his spin into the air Fear’s foot connected with the swordsman’s head and launched him from his feet to lie in a heap his neck broken. The remaining man lurched to his feet and paused to look at the men on the ground.

“There is no reason for more death” said Fear

Looking up the man answered “My cousin and my brother” and lashed out furiously with the axe.

Ducking under the axe Fear hit him with the heel of his hand smashing the cartilage of his nose and sending the splinters into his brain, the man was dead before he hit the ground.

Looking around Fear sighed, gathering his things he repacked his backpack. After one last look he set out again, the afternoon was not as beautiful as it had seemed only an hour ago.