A heavy loss

The day of the battle had arrived. All of us were standing before the bazaar with heavy hearths and shivering weapons.
Especially Bokrug, Jefferey and me, we had never participated in a war like this.
 
Would we survire, would we drag everyone down?
I was scared, but a little bit was excited.
I was coming out of my shell that existed of only traveling.
 
When we entered the bazaar it was empty and quiet so we decided to split up in groups of 3 or 4 and hunt for any enemy that we could find.
looking at the signs everyone was supposed to give, we were the first group to find enemies, but a few seconds later other groups found them as well.
 
Just like the last time we fought these creatures we barely survived, but this time it was only because another group came to our aid.
Bokrug and Jefferey were would be dead if not for the cleric, even Skadi was on death's door.
 
The moment everyone was healed and awake we set out to help the other groups.
We hoped that we had taken the largest brunt of the attack since we were the most inexperienced.
We were wrong...
Some people died and one group was wiped out in it's entirety.
I felt guilty to these people, I riled them up for the fight and these were the consequences of my choice.
 
We decided that it would be best to pick up the dead and leave quickly, we could not take the bazaar back, it was our loss.
On the outskirts of the bazaar we rested wile another adventurer scouted back in the bazaar in case we would be followed.
Meanwhile we buried our fallen comrades.
Nobody seemed to blame me what only made me feel worse, but we found solace in each others grief for that moment.
 
It was this moment that the adventurer returned to us and shouted about an army of the undead so we left again.
 
Fleeing like a beaten dog with his tail between his legs...