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citizenanon
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Jensen ran through the barracks as fast as his legs would carry him. There had been an attack. A blitz, taking down many of the posted guards. Those that were not posted, were scrambling to get dressed and to find their weaponry. Jensen had only one task though. He was to protect the princess in any way necessary. If that meant spiriting her away in the dead of night, then that was what he would do. For now though, he had to get to her.
Whoever decided to put her room on the very top of the keep needed to be shot. Wait, that had been him.
Jensen heard shouts and screams before him. As he turned into the stairwell, he saw several of his soldiers defending the next landing, several of the enemy trying to push forward.
How had they gotten in so easily?
With a battle cry that would turn the weak away from war, Jensen drew his blade and waded into the conflict. He dispatched two easily, their surprise leaving them fully open. The remaining soldiers, caught between two opponents quickly fell. Using the tip of his sword, Jensen knocked the helmet of one away. It was Brodrick. One of his own soldiers.
Betrayal.
Jensen let out a scream of rage and began to run up the flight of stairs. At his tallest, he stood just over six feet. He was broad at the shoulders, with a narrow waist. Dark hair threatened to disrupt his vision as he ran, but he brushed it away as he took the stairs two at a time. He had to get to her before they did.
Whoever decided to put her room on the very top of the keep needed to be shot. Wait, that had been him.
Jensen heard shouts and screams before him. As he turned into the stairwell, he saw several of his soldiers defending the next landing, several of the enemy trying to push forward.
How had they gotten in so easily?
With a battle cry that would turn the weak away from war, Jensen drew his blade and waded into the conflict. He dispatched two easily, their surprise leaving them fully open. The remaining soldiers, caught between two opponents quickly fell. Using the tip of his sword, Jensen knocked the helmet of one away. It was Brodrick. One of his own soldiers.
Betrayal.
Jensen let out a scream of rage and began to run up the flight of stairs. At his tallest, he stood just over six feet. He was broad at the shoulders, with a narrow waist. Dark hair threatened to disrupt his vision as he ran, but he brushed it away as he took the stairs two at a time. He had to get to her before they did.