Raise the Bells

Tom burst through the doors of the barracks — alerting the guards and falling to the floor.

“I—! He—! The.. The!” He stumbled.

A senior Bern Guard picked him up by the collar, “Well spit it out man!”

Tom gulped, “Blue Orcs…”

What? How can that be? Is he serious? Murmuring between the guards.

“You better not be lying?!” He said.

“He’s pissed himself… Only a Guard who has seen horror would do so…” another said.

“It’s… True…” Tom said.

“Well then… Bern has been compromised… Raise the Bells and alert The Guard! We must protect the King!”

Tom fell to his knees and held back tears. Maybe this was the wrong profession for him.

The guards marched out. The bells rung. Shocking the townspeople. Yelling. Scrambling in doors. The merchant market was in chaos.

The castle sat at the top of the city hill. The king watched from the tower window. His eyes, sharp — cold and dark.

The orcs were ravaging. A rusty sword plunged into the heart of a running civilian. Pulled hair. Crushed bones. The orc way was to leave no survivors…

“Help! Help! Help!” Cries of the innocent.

Tom was alone in the barracks… All the other guards had assumed positions. Swords in hand. Bow and arrows. And magic users with wands.

Why… Why am I so pathetic… Tom looked at the ground.