The barbarian army stormed forward in a thick mass of man and horse. Only the thick walls of the citadel could prevent the total collapse of the city, but after a few hours of constant pecking and prodding, the defenders finally gave in. The royal flag was cut down over the smouldering heap, replaced with the black banner of the Riders. This band of misfits and outcasts were poised to reap the spoils of their trade, jeering, and rumbling for their commander to give the order. With a blow of a ram's horn, the mob fanned out, beginning the horror.
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Drummed up drabbles
ContoA challenge to see if I could pack a book's worth of story into only one hundred words. enjoy :)
