Prunhiline was elated, happier than she'd been in hours. The men she pursued were horrified, more terrified than ever in their lives. Britina, however, was unamused; this was par for the course. The villagers reacted with a blend of fear, amusement, and mortification. This scene would soon be retold as the infamous Battle of the Naked Amazon Warrior.

“Prunhiline!” Screamed the unamused mage. “Stop!”

Prunhiline heard Britina, but she was in full rampage mode, which meant she wouldn’t stop until she hit someone. Her prime targets were the two men who’d dared interrupt her dreaded bath. She wanted to thank them, perhaps before she killed them or maybe during; that would be better. Deciding to do both, she bellowed a battle cry that further unsettled everyone except Britina: “THANK YOU FOR INTERRUPTING MY BATH!” It was an odd war cry, but it suited her. Britina simply rolled her eyes, chasing after the much faster naked warrior.

The two would-be assassins ran into a large house and slammed the front door behind them. One of them attempted to lock the door but was surprised by the sword slicing through the door, barely missing his face. The man screamed and lunged back from the door in time to see it explode in a hail of splinters. The naked warrior burst into the main room of the house.

Ralph relaxed into the coziest chair in his hideout as his men drank, sang, and boasted around him. He took a long pull from his ale just as the front door burst open, sending two of his men screaming into the room. As they slammed the door shut, it exploded behind them. Into the room leaped a tall, naked woman, who was strangely familiar. Ralph stared at her as she surveyed the space, unshaken. She seemed to be sizing them up and looked unimpressed. Something nagged at him: warrior, road, humiliation. Suddenly, recognition hit him. She was the warrior who’d shamed him on the road! The voice in his head screamed, Run! Ignoring it, he grabbed his sword and charged at her, muttering a prayer to any gods who’d listen. The gods watched, amused, but stayed out of it.

Prunhiline screamed, not in fear of the twenty men before her, nor the one now charging at her, but with sheer delight at plunging into battle. She felt free and alive. Her sword met the strike of a vaguely familiar foe, but she didn’t care. He was the enemy, and he was there to be defeated.

Britina caught up with her companion. She surveyed the room and recognized Ralph, the leader, and a few other men. She shouted, “Prunhiline, bandits from the road, attack!” Prunhiline liked the last word.

When Britina yelled attack, Prunhiline knew she could cut loose and have some fun, and she did with the delight of a child on Winter Solstice morning! Here is an accurate account of the battle, or as precise as one can be made:

Ralph, the leader, had his sword blocked with ease. His surprise was abandoned as the pain of having the bare foot of the six-foot-seven warrior kicking into his chest caused him to sail backward into Bandit Two, who didn’t stand much chance as it was. Bandits three and four (the ones from before) were on either side of the warrior. They charged but found themselves blown back into the wall by two fireballs thrown expertly from the hands of Britina. Bandit five had his jaw and nose broken by a left hook from Prunhiline as bandit six got caught with the pummel of her sword.

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Bandits seven through twenty remained, somehow feeling that the two women outnumbered them. Seven managed a weak battle cry, or more of a whimper, as he lunged with his dagger at the berserker warrior. Prunhiline’s blade shattered both his weapon and his courage, and she slapped him to the floor with her left hand, where he decided staying down was honorable enough. Bandits eight, nine, and ten rushed her, screaming in terror, while bandits eleven and twelve pulled out bows from the back of the hideout.

Eight and ten were both struck on the respective sides of their heads with the warrior fists (one was holding a sword), which caused them to slam into nine who was between them. The warrior did a wide swing with her sword, but the men had collapsed and escaped decapitation. Nine grabbed eight, and ten grabbed nine as they huddled together, pretending to be out.

Eleven and twelve had loosened arrows at the warrior, but the arrows burst into flames and disintegrated before they came close to hitting their target. The two men tried to draw a second volley only to have their bows burst into flames and become ash. Before the two could rationalize what had happened, they were both hit in the face with searing hot fireballs. With sunburned faces, they collapsed as well.

Thirteen found he was an unlucky number. He faced the tall warrior with his sword and no chance of escape. She had a laser focus on him. He held his sword out to protect himself. The warrior cut his sword in two. He held his hands up, but before he could surrender, he was knocked cold with the pummel of the warrior’s sword.

This left fourteen through twenty. Fourteen had wet himself; he wasn’t proud of that moment, but it was all he could do. The pummel of the sword had caught him on the side of his head as the warrior was swinging her sword back in preparation for gutting fifteen. She didn’t realize that she had knocked him out. He didn’t care that she didn’t know.

Fifteen decided he was going to put up a fight. He raised his war hammer and was prepared to bust open the warrior's head. He found instead that he had left himself open to her long-bladed sword, which easily slid through him. To his surprise, she missed all major organs, but he didn’t stay conscious long enough to appreciate it.

Sixteen and seventeen tried to make their way around the warrior. It is unknown if they were flanking her to attack or, more reasonably, trying to escape. They didn’t make it far. Their feet turned to ice, quickly expanding their bodies, freezing them solid. They decided it was an excellent place to chill out.

Eighteen, nineteen, and twenty were left standing. Eighteen dropped his weapon, fell to his knees, and prayed. It is assumed he prayed to all the gods in the hope of one of them listening. The only answer he got was laughter.

Nineteen didn’t think what he was going to do; he just leaped at the warrior, grabbing her by the naked waist. He was dragged behind Prunhiline as she charged after twenty, who had decided to run towards the back exit. Prunhiline threw her sword, embedding it into the door frame and door, locking the last man in with her. Twenty turned to find a fist making a fast trajectory at his face. He went down.

Prunhiline walked back to Britina, Bandit Nineteen still stubbornly clinging to her waist. Britina glanced from the man to her companion. “What about him?” she asked.

“Who?” Prunhiline looked around.

“Him!” Britina pointed at the man with his arms around the naked warrior’s waist.

“Oh, him.” Prunhiline hit him on top of his head with her fist. He was out.

Britina began a spell. Slowly, clothes materialized onto the warrior. Prunhiline looked down. “Cool! I forgot I was naked.” Britina rolled her eyes.