With a sound louder than a sundered gong, the steel between the wood boards was finally broken by the strong man. There was no joy or applause in reception to its breaking and the soldiers of the Brocade Guard in the council chamber were silent.
The door collapsed. The well-prepared Brocade Guard, equipped with their small crossbows, let loose a hail of bolts in quick response.
The strong man’s right arm was one that displayed countless past wounds. His true strength had already been fully drained and, looking at the bolts bearing down upon him, he hadn’t the energy to react. Hearing the whiz of the oncoming bolts, they struck his wide body; one in particular pierced his eye. With a squelch, crimson bits of gore projected from the socket.
"Ah!" The man howled in pain. Pierced by the barrage of bolts, he moved toward the courtyard. With each heavy step, blood squirted from his wounds.
