The Crushing of Pace - Part 1

There were men waiting at the sides of that tunnel, hiding, thinking themselves to be crafty. They were lesser men – Oliver predicted archers.

"ARCHERS AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL!" Oliver warned. The men tightened, their adrenaline not cooling, but their movements growing more measured, as their Captain's whip-like voice brought them back to heel.

It was a densely packed group that made it back into the light, outside the other end of that tunnel. Oliver was shoulder to shoulder with the men in front of him, about to break past. His sword was drawn at the ready. By his side, Blackthorn mirrored him, not even needing the order.

Oliver was well aware of what his role was – they needed to establish a foothold in the fort, if they wished to make proper use of their army. For that, those walls would need clearing. The threat of an oil attack would need eliminating.

The men raised their shields to the side, in preparation for an arrow storm.

Yet none came.