(The Next Morning: The Baron at the Gates of Briarhelm)
Next morning, as the sun barely rose over the horizon, Baron Gregor and his forces arrived at the gates of Briarhelm.
The early morning mist clung to the ground, but even through the haze, something felt unmistakably wrong.
The familiar white and blue banner of Duke Victor, which had always flown proudly over the city's walls, was now gone, and in its place, a deep crimson flag fluttered in the morning breeze, marked with the sigil of The Uprising.
"What in the red hell is that?" Gregor muttered, as he could feel his stomach turn inside out.
The red flag over the city gates could only mean one thing, and that outcome made Gregor feel uneasy to his core.
Nonetheless, hoping that maybe the fight had still not concluded, Gregor rode his horse towards the entrance, only to be stopped by an arrow landing in front of him.
*Shud*
