My unluckiest battle happened with one of the greatest adventurers I, and possibly anyone else, will ever know. His name was Yaaga Naquuvgocta: Master Demonslayer, and to show how unlucky this was I will tell you his approxomite stats, for I never got a screenshot.
Wrestler: 40X Legendary.
Shield user: 45X Legendary.
Armor user: 25X Legendary
Crossbow use: 25X Legendary.
All other weapons: At Least Competent.
Swimming: Fatal to try
While many of you will asume that he died because of drowning this is not true. Our story starts in a Dwarven Fortress by the name of Standardrinsed. Yaaga was wandering around aimlessly after his defeat of the demon Bosa Brandurn, and happened upon the town accidentaly. The dwarves had heard tell that a demonslayer had arised, and were shocked when he showed them the body, which had lost its left leg and arm (those he carried with him as well). They sung praises and partied and let him stay as long as he liked, and many engravers began to engrave the story into every room that they could find. But what they didn't know, that though he was fresh from the kill of a demon, he was also fresh from the murder of 12 elves, a goblin city, and most everyone in 4 human towns. His life training against the undead had filled his brain with miasma, slowly rotting it, and he had become very unstable. While most of his visit had passed without incident, on a day near his departure, he went to a dwarf metalsmith with a simple request: a set of steel armor to replace his own iron set which had rusted through almost completely. He was fairly certain that the production of steel required iron, so he offered to let him smelt down his own armor and weapons (Of these he had plenty, you can guess where he got them...) to make production easier. The craftsman told him it would not do and Yaaga was outraged, arms of a DEMONSLAYER couldn't make good equipment? In a rage, he took his sword and swung it at the dwarfs chest, which split in half like butter. Then all hell broke loose. The dwarves had to do something, so they decided crossbowmen would do the trick. They would turn him into a pincushion, for he had, in his rage, killed eight more innocent dwarves. They'd seen many a proud fool fall to such tactics, despite legendary deeds. But this was no mere adventurer. Every bolt missed its mark as he dodged lithely out of the way, those that the wind sent at him, he blocked as though it were a blade of grass. Every crossbowman he killed gave him more ammunition for he was throwing and firing bolts like few others could. However, he missed one bolt and it caught his shoulder, making him that much more enraged. He threw his crossbow at the man, stoving his head in and sending him flying, and ripped out the bolt, which he now used as a weapon. Even with other dwarves attempting to wrestle him down, he killed almost every last dwarf in that fortress. But there was one, one he had missed. As he walked to the top of a tower, he spied a crossbowman, the last one... he simply had to rush him, then he could go ask worthier dwarves for a steel set of armor. However, one last bolt made its mark, and his shield fell to the ground in a clatter, as his hand and most of his fingers were mangled. Another shot taken, he instinctively jumped away from the wind... which happened to send him over the edge of the tower, on a two-story fall to the bottom. Many bones broke when he landed, but that was a small matter to him, they would heal given time... he thought he was safe, so he began to crawl away. But, he was still shieldless, and he heard the whiz of the bolt before it hit him, and he knew where it was coming. Then he felt a half a second of pain in his head before it all was gone, as was he... and so ended Yaaga Naquuvgocta: Master Demonslayer.
Seening as I got his stats so high I thought he deserved a story to go with this most unfortunate of deaths. Unfortunate for me anyway, that marksdwarf is probably eating down all the food in the fortress and living large in what was the mayors room, before he'll decide living alone is getting old, and tell them that the fortress was taken, and only he survived. Good for the world too, as I would have killed every living person in every single city.