The sound of steel clashing against steel rings in the distance. Smoke billows into the air, carrying the horrid stench of the battlefield. Through the fluttering tent entrance a muddied, bloodied, messenger runs in.
“Commander, we have their fortress surrounded…”
The commander rises from his plush, velvet seat, and adjusts his belt.
“Splendid!” he exclaims. “Storm the keep! Take no prisoners!”
“Erm, that’s all right and good, but, milord, if I may – “
“No time, we must swarm them now!” he shouts as he slams his hands down upon the table, chicken legs bouncing up. Continue Reading