The holy massacre

A forlorn hope

They sat around the wooden table, solemnly thinking of the words released of horrors beyond human mercy. A cold wind blew through the room while the shadow of doubt hung heavy around the minds who has heard this tale. As the solitude of night settled in, all hope seemed to have escaped. Arthur sat deep in thought, glancing at the coat of mail in the corner. He thought of the things he had seen over the years, the unsufferable troubles and pangs of happiness throughout his legacy. It was as if a ray of sun broke through the dismal clouds that cloaks a world of death, he recalled various episodes and examined them whole-heartedly. He saw scenes of passion and duty, of fear and flight. He stood up and sat near the window, over-looking a utopia of lights and people. He started thinking of reason and destiny, as fate has always foreshadowed the lives of men small and great.