(if i may i will like to post this story.
blood flowed down the steps of the mountaintop palace the city far below was blotted out by black smoke from a thousand fires. bodies littered the city and the million stepps to the palace above. blood covered all things from the great and mighty battle being faught.
a thousands voices shouted out, in screams of agony, war cries, orders, and simple terror and determination. berserkers cut paths through enemy ranks. archers washed the horde over with arrows innumerable.
the palace was falling, and the horde was endless. a million barberian men and women stormed the walls of the palace and the inner court. standing int he last chamber, the last line of defence, the great king of forty years stands rigid.
his sonse lined a score beside him, and his genrals and highest commanders all lost in battle. already the shouts and din of battle could be heard trough the great iron bound doors to the chamber.
and soon it sounded just outside the doors. four hundred men stood on the outside makeing their last stands and five hundred more stood inside with the king and his sons.
and soon the victory shou was sung in the barberic tongue of the enemy. crouching low the king ordered two hundred men to go with the princes out the secret entrance and flee to the valleys. the sons protested but th eking would not hear it. and the soldiers faithfuly led them away through the hidden door and down into the caverns a thousand feet below the mountain.
and as the last man left and the doors shut tight the iron bound doors buckled under emence pressure of the barberian's Berserkers. and there three hundred men soldiers and a strong king stood to their last. no one was taken prisoner, for none was willign to live if their kingdom fell.