Stan and WinstonMature

A quick snap upward of the bottom of his shield caused the colossal man to shout in pain.

He doubled over and then his head came level to his own, Marsden pulled the heavy, steel shield back and gave it a mighty swing. CRACK! He fell to the ground with a gruesome crunch against the pile of stone ruins.

With his vision clearing nicely, he realized that the cavalry finally arrived within range to actually provide him with some assistance.

“About time!” Marsden shouted to his friend and fellow Knight, Winston.

With his long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, and the two famous dove feathers hanging from around his neck, Winston was a man to be both feared and admired at the same time.

“I’m just glad it worked!” The archer grinned at him, while he whipped another arrow from his quiver, taking only seconds to find his target, then a mere hush of the string being released.

His aim was awfully close to Marsden who moved his head just slightly as the arrow zipped past to strike a man pulling a piece of the rubble back.

“Gives me easier targets!” He shouted past his apprentice, Stan, who held to shields and bucklers, keeping Winston protected.

Marsden brought his attention back to the stronghold and watched as Winston’s previous target died while blood gushed from his throat.

There were even more men appearing from the recesses of the fortress, so Marsden turned back toward Winston, “You doubted my intuition?!”

He decided he needed to get behind him to gather his focus and as he ran back toward him Marsden watched as his shield bearer, Stan, no more than nineteen years of age, protected his sire from any oncoming attacks.

Stan had been Winston’s shield carrier now for two years, and twenty-nine battles. Marsden noticed that Stan was focusing on the forward assault of arrows, and the soldier that continued to hack away at Stan’s constant defense was becoming an annoyance.

Winston yelled back, “I never doubted you my friend, only Old Man Tanner’s crazy contraptions!”

“I think I’m going to go get another one!” Marsden yelled to Winston, while zigging and zagging trying to keep himself as hard a target for the archers as possible. Yet an arrow smacked right in the center of his back! Luckily his armor kept it from penetrating.

Marsden stopped, looked back trying to eye all the archers, one smirked, and he would be an opponent Marsden would try to take out later. So he pointed toward him, paused and made sure he saw him pointing. He appeared irritated and quickly notched another arrow.

“Get down!” Winston yelled at him.

The End

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