He had to keep running, he knew, because they were after him, and he had to get away.
He had been running for hours, and had kept ahead of his pursuers thus far, gaining some distant when he had passed through that strange gate… but there was no time to think, had to focus on running.
It was at this point that the man tripped.
It was a bad fall, because when the man attempted rise, he found with a growing horror that he couldn't. His ankle was sprained, and he lacked the energy needed to run anyways.
"Well" the man said "At least this is a beautiful place".
And he was right. The place in which he had fallen was indeed beautiful, with a light dew on the grass, and a river running beneath the trees into the distance, it was indeed a beautiful night.
The man waited, knowing that his pursuers would arrive soon, and he began to prepare for this land stand.
The man, who was in fat a priest, was not ordinary in any sense. This man was a warrior priest, meaning that he had a great spiked mace strapped to his back, and a breastplate attach with leather bindings to his chest. Not to mention, this man had many powerful enchantments with which he could make his last stand noteworthy.
Soon, they were in sight, a line of silent men, clad all in black, walking slowly and silently into the clear area.
The man waited, knowing the fight would begin soon.
An enemy soldier, who could be easily identified as the leader, moved forward slightly, and raised his black-garbed arm to the sky.
'I'm going to die when he lowers that arm… so be it' the man thought, as he braced himself for the inevitable.
The black-garbed man drew a long serrated sword with his other hand, began to lower the arm that would mark the death of a good man… and promptly fell over when an object rammed itself into his eye!
The priest was startled 'My god… help has arrived!!'
And that it had, more projectiles rained out from the darkness, killing many of the black-garbed assassins where they stood, and sending the few remaining into panicked flight.
Several figures emerged from the surrounding foliage after a few moments, and silently approached the wounded priest.
The priest knew he was about to lose consciousness, and made one comment before he fell over.
"Who are you people?..."
"He never heard the reply of "We're friends"
The mysterious saviors then calmly picked up the priest, gently of course, and carried him away to places unknown.