Nichloas

Faster. That's all he thought as he ran for his life. The forest flew past him as his bare feet dug into the mud, and clung to his feet, creating a suction like sound, slowing him down. He spared a look behind him and what he saw made his blood run cold, and he stopped in his tracks. The town behind him was in flames. Arrows tipped with gold rained from the sky and blood stained the streets. On the other side of the town were men clad in armour made of chain mail and steel plate, painted pitch black. They marched through through the town as they slaughtered anyone they saw.