On the mountain where two arrows had been shot, Rowan was taking cover at the best spot. He had a rock on his right and a tree supporting him in front. To his left was a steeply descending path, so if he put his body against the rock diagonally, he was completely invisible.
If the orc moved to the steep area, there was no way Rowan wouldn't know, so the orcs couldn't come from Rowan's left.
From Rowan's perspective, the left low ground was virtually a safe zone.
'What I have now...'
A round shield with cold iron crudely fitted and hammered into the wood like welding looked like a leather shield on the outside.
The shortsword couldn't be called sharp—the edge wasn't honed to a fine point. It was moderately sharpened. Because if the blade was too sharp, it would crack and break easily. But it could cleanly cut off wrists with enough force and make forearms dangle.
