The castle burned.

Tiny sparks of ember rises into the night amidst the flames. Long spears move slowly in an endless march into the doomed structure. Screams, shrieks, and battlecries fill the dark blue sky. Steel strikes steel. The ground trembles with the sound of footsteps and hooves thundering through. Fire-tipped arrows fly past towards the castle.

Briamore Stonewall has fallen.

It all began after a large stone thrust by one of Kudrath's catapults, slammed into a weakened portion of the front wall. The wall gave way, taking with it a squad of archers stationed on top. In an instant, the main front raced towards the castle, a wave of flesh and steel rushing onwards. The Briamore Defense, six thousand strong, has grown weaker until it, finally, could not stop a charging onslaught of spearmen. The Kudrath, wave after wave, stormed beyond the walls and into the town. The rushing mass began to disperse, as fighters from both sides fought man to man, blade against blade. Corpses from both sides lie in every corner. What used to be puddles and streams of water soon turned dark red. Pandemonium reigned throughout the streets. Nearby, a dazed mother barely holds on to a blood-soaked bundle as passing soldiers, civilians, even cavalry, cast a dark silhouette all over her.

It was a dark and ghastly scene, witnessed by Briamore's Prime minister from a distance. But he could do no more than stare in horror, barely recognized by his calm, but pained demeanor. He walked towards the princess. She sat majestic in her seat on the far opposite end of the oak table, her eyes closed. Her maidservants stood watch behind her.

"Your Highness, it is time."

"I wish to remain with Father in the courtroom."

"Highness, please! Must you be stubborn at times like these?"

"My country is dying, Minister. The least I can do is stay with my family at times such as this. I will die with the utmost dignity, if need be."

"These soldiers – these…barbarians - will tear you piece by piece! Torture, rape, murder, surely there is no dignity in that! Please, your Highness. Allow me to assemble our most trusted men to escort you out of the castle. There's a -"

"And what, pray, will happen to the rest of the men? They will all die knowing that they, too, could have found a way out to survive. I will not abandon them, Prime Minister! If they fight till their last breath, let me –"

"Highness!"

"Prime Minister, you have dutifully and faithfully served me with unwavering support and with utmost devotion. I thank you for your wise counsel all through these years. The winds of fortune go with you."

The Prime Minister hung his head, the defeat in his face complete. He nodded to the inevitable. Approaching the princess, he kneeled, cupped her hand with both his palms, and kissed it.

"Your Highness. . . .goodbye," the words barely escaped from his mouth.

The princess nodded. "Take as many people with you as you can. I believe Father left you with instructions on what to do afterwards. Josef, this may be the last time we meet."

He bowed, then turned and walked towards the door. Seconds passed. The maidservant on the princess' left approached her.

"Princess, what shall we do?"

"Both of you are bound to your duties no longer. You're free to go wherever you choose. You might even catch up with the—"

"Princess, Sasha and I wish to remain by your side, for as long as we'll live."

"We know nothing but the princess' welfare. Tasha can be hardheaded too, you know. Besides, you won't know your way around the castle without someone to guide you."

"Indeed!" ,the princess said.

All three giggled. A hearty, yet sad laughter.

"That is noble of you. Very well, then. Sasha, Tasha, please take me to my room."

"But, Princess, shouldn't we make our way to where your Father is?"

"Papa can wait. There is something I must bring with me."

Goltan looked around, his opponent dead at his feet. How many husbands, fathers, or brothers he had sent to the Beyond, he cannot recall. No rest for the weary, he thought.

He had watched, to his horror, as the walls gave way. The first wave of Kudrath spearmean were eventually expended, but by the time the third wave came, troops at the rear began to retreat. He fell back, formed another defensive the line with his squadmates, met and fought the enemy, and then fell back again. Still they would come. He had fought to no end, in the streets; in the plaza; in the alleyways; all the way to the Royal Square. By then, he had lost track of time, his hands tremble, unfeeling, as he stared at his captain, an arrow embedded to his neck. The relentless attacks reduced his twenty-eight-man squad to just five. Attrition-wise, even though his battle-tested men would take down ten soldiers for every comrade lost, the Kudrath would still have more than enough warm bodies to throw.

The General of the Watch lay facedown nearby. During the fighting, the Kudrath managed to pry him from his Guard unit. They wasted no time surrounding him, and soon swords, spears, and arrows pierced his armored torso from every direction. By the time his commanders had rallied to repel the attack, it was minutes too late. The Kudrath had withdrawn, doubtless summoning more men for another attack, but the Briamore defenders: knights, archers, pikemen, and some mercenaries, were all but a disorganized mess.

Surely there will be a ceasefire, they said! Hah! His thought wander, as he trudged towards the Square.

We will surely die. But enough! We've shed enough blood for one night. Kudrath's intentions are clear. Total annihilation. And we, soldiers of the Province of Briamore, will not be spared a single soul. I need to send what remains of my squad elsewhere.

His delirium ceased when his armor clanged onto a burly, bearded figure. His massive chestplate splattered with blood.

The Blood Axe! He instantly recognized him.

"Dalmus! It is good to see you," he said.

"Aye, young'un. I see you've had your share as well."

"That's the wrong way. The troops are to assemble at the Royal Square."

"I'm not here for that. I've got orders."

His armored torso arched lower to whisper closely to Goltan.

"Your father's been asking around for ye. He's at the Palace Command Room."

His thoughts flashed through his mind like lightning. Bold, ruthless, cold-hearted.

"Really, what could the Old Man be wanting from me at this dire moment?," he remarked in jest.

"Dunno. Best you get to him fast."

The sound of explosions roared from a distance. Both men parted ways.

He ran towards Ardent, his newly promoted liaison.

"Ardent, fall back! We need to head back to the Palace."

"But, sir…"

"That's an order! These men will hold the line. Follow me. You, too, Reid. Thass! Get down here! Higgler!"

"Where'e headed, guvnah?" , Reid, the talkative member of the group, asked the captain.

"To the castle. We've got orders to secure the Palace.", Goltan replied as the men formed a circle .

"Some hot food would be nice.", quipped Higgler, group's crossbow specialist.

"Don't think the higher-ups got any to spare.", Thass' low voice filled Higgler's inquiry.

"We'll know when we get there. Let's move", Goltan's voice rallied to men to action.

The five men quickly assembled and trotted on the cobbled path as they navigate through a mass of soldiers making their way to the frontline in what may be a last, futile stand.