Back within the breakroom, Merk and Dev had an arm wrapped around one another, singing along as others drummed a beat on the long table. Mugs, silverware and the like were scattered on the floor.
Following the song's end, Merk sat back in his seat, once again taking a look at his picture of his family back in Chesamere. A brief smile—one of genuine warmth.
That's when they heard it. The sounds of horns. Their indistinguishable roar, and the three beats declaring invasion.
Every man slowed to a halt in the room. A few chuckled lightly, taking it as a joke. Merk didn't.
He looked around with a slight panic, before grabbing his helmet that still rested on the table. His sword strapped to his hip.
"What the hell? They're interrupting our drinks! Those damn pranksters!"
One of the men went to the opposite side of the room with a laugh. A large door led to the downstairs entrance. He opened the door—and was gifted a horrifying sight.
Another soldier laid there with a sword thrusted through his chest. He was lifeless, with an endless supply of blood pouring from his wound.
The soldier gasped and fell backward, before raising himself and shutting the door. He barred it just before whatever was outside could get in. Heavy pounding struck the door as snarls echoed through the room.
No man thought it was a prank now.
"W—what's going on? What's out there?" asked Merk, his voice shaky.
Distant screams of men followed his question. The soldiers scrambled to their gear, preparing themselves for whatever awaited.
"Grab your gear! Reauford is under attack! Men, band together!" one shouted, raising a sword. They disappeared behind another door, leading to the barracks. Merk froze, eyes wide with terror. Dev stood next to him, helping him to his feet. Soon after, the screams of those same men were heard.
The same soldiers Merk and Dev had just sung with. Brothers.
"Merk! Get up! We have to go, NOW!" said Dev, practically dragging him.
"T—They're gone… Dev, they're dead!"
"I know! We stand no chance here, Merk. We need to get out of here. Whatever's out there—whatever's sieged Reauford is massacring us! We need to go warn Chesamere! Reauford has fallen!"
They stumbled through the room, entering a backroom hallway. When they entered, the distant sounds of swordfight and men's pleads were like nightmares. Every step, they passed another carcass of a man they once knew, blood staining the stone.
"C'mon Merk! I've got you, friend!"
At the far end of the hallway, a shadow flickered across the torchlight. Something big. Much bigger than a man could be seen.
"What the…"
The shadow only got bigger. Merk stopped in his tracks, his blade now drawn.
"Dev… G—go. Get out of h—here. Warn them, I'll hold it off."
"Merk! What're you talking about?! You've got a family! Tressa's waiting for you!"
Merk shook in his armor, his hand quaked. His sword wobbled, but he didn't move.
"And I've sworn an oath the day I became a soldier. That I wouldn't cower and run. I swore an oath to Eramu himself! I'd stand and fight, even against all odds!"
Merk smacked his helmet. The shadow grew ever closer, nearly peering around the hall now.
"Go, Dev. Warn Chesamere. Tell them—tell them Reauford has fallen!"
With that, Merk charged forward, sword readied, and Dev turned down the corridor through the back exit. One that led into the harsh mountains of the eastern human realms.