Take the slope on your right

You wind your way up the inclined slope, towards the sound of battle, feeling it is your best chance at survival and escape. The guard station will quite obviously have guards in it, and at least up there, they may be distracted enough by the attackers to allow you to slip through.

As you approach the surface you start to build up speed, going from a trot, to a run, then a full-on dash towards the open air. When you reach the opening, you breathe in the night air deeply and look at the surroundings.

It's worse than you thought. What you thought was a battle on fairly equal ground turns out to be more like a massacre.

The fighting is still continuing but even to your eyes, inexperienced to the arts of battle and warfare, can see how badly the battle fared. The meager number of guards on duty were met with the brute **** of scores of lizardmen and trolls, all hacking and cleaving with bloodlust and fury, while flanked by hellhounds, their furry red manes coated in the equally red blood of Elves and slaves alike.

A little farther out in the distance, you can see that the doors to the **** pens have been torn open and the prisoners were free to escape. It appears the jailers had realized that they were outmatched early on in the attack and decided to break the prisoners free, hoping the additional manpower would be enough to tip the scales. it wasn't enough.

Directly in front of you lies a long line of corpses, Eleven guards and even some prisoners. They were probably trying to form a battle line and make a stand against the attackers, but the speed at which they were attacked smashed the line before it could even assemble.

Here and there though, a few pockets of resistance still stand, Elven guards forming defensive rings and managing to keep the monsters at bay through a combination of wide slashes and thrusts. They are your only hope for getting out of this battlefield. Anywhere else would be suicide, since there is nothing to distract the demons from you, now that the majority of the guards are too busy fighting for their own lives.

You immediately peel towards the closest group. Approaching them, you can see how frantically they are struggling against the demons. Silently praying to the gods, you hurl yourself inside the melee and hope to get through to the other side. Pushing, shoving, and elbowing the others, you try to **** your way through the fighting.

You realize your fatal mistake. While such a hectic battle means most people won't be looking at you, in the end it is still a battle. Without armor, or a plan, or allies to watch out for danger, you might as well be running into a meat grinder. This proves to be true when a stray thrown axe cleaves into your skull.