The Last Stand
The walls of the keep shuddered as the war machines continued their advance on our walls. Our defenders were strong, but the attackers were vast, scrambling up our defense and finally laying waste to the last of our men on the walls. I looked around to count only fifty of us remained behind the keeps interior walls, waiting eagerly for the doors to be smashed open. I could taste the rapid sweat growing on my lip, gripping my battle axe tightly against my chest waiting for my chance to split as many heads as possible before I fell. A loud roar erupted from behind us as our Lord Grisbane “The Tainted One” stood among us with his greatsword a massive hunk of iron more blunt than sharp, lifted high above his head. He was covered head to toe in malicious tattoos, honoring our God the “forbidden one.” He strode in the center of our group, wearing only a chained kilt and nothing else. “Hear my words!” Grisbane spoke. “When the king’s whoresons break through our door what will they find?” His words booming, echoing off the chamber’s long hall, the last of us honorable few all raised our voices in unison for this was our code “They will find only us bloodied and damned!”
