Lances of bright green plasma washed across the polished stone walls with a hiss like a serpent. The guardsman ducked around the corner and squeezed off a quick burst of MAG rounds from his assault rifle before quickly retreating back to the, relative, safety of the doorway. In his periphery, he could see the hatch blowing open and his sovereign being all but dragged away by Cedri.<br/><br/>His heartbeat thundered in his head louder than the bombardments that shook the foundation of the hallowed building. His throat was dry and his tongue felt it was made of sand.<br/><br/>Pulling off a grenade from his belt and gazed down at the palm-sized device with a clarity of mind he’d not felt since he’d seen his darling Sorden all those seasons ago. How her small hand barely wrapped around his finger; yet with such strength, he couldn’t pull himself away. Of course, he could, but he knew she would grow into a fine warrior one day all the same. Besides, it made for a better story over a drink if he fudged the veracity a smudge.<br/><br/>“Surrender and you will not be harmed!” Boomed the unmistakably Dohrvin voice from some meters down the hallway. Like rocks being ground over by smaller, somehow coarser, wetted pebbles. “We come only for the Princess.” It’d added; as if that were to shake the resolve of her guardians.<br/><br/>Someone, a female, said something that he could not hear. A muffled half scream that sounded more like a battle cry than an omission of defeat. The followed, ‘<i>shlump’</i>of an armament discharge proved the fortitude of Princess Renaya’s protectors to be unbroken.<br/><br/>The grenade was heavy in his hand, like lead, and seemed to pulse with a rhythm more calming than the waves of the venerable Allfeign ocean he’d called home. Was Sorden there now practicing her balance on a board? He wondered.<br/><br/>Then, the imposing figure of a Dohrivin clad in full battle armor rounded the corner into the small chamber he’d found himself in. Followed by another. And, another. Faceless helmets that betrayed no emotion and, perhaps more importantly, imparted only dread; for these were not the regalia of common Dohrivin foot soldiers. No, these were a breed far more dangerous. Exceedingly.<br/><br/>“Surrender, guard Lafren of house Tormalkin!” Cracked the same voice as before, though he could not place from where. “House Brivine has fallen. Your duties are to the Regent now.”<br/><br/>Looking behind him, Lafren could see a number of the dark dropships speeding for the royal grounds. Some, thankfully, blossomed into flames and ruined metal as they were smashed from the sky by rockets or magnetic rail rounds. The escape hatch had decorticated away from the wall as it was intended to do, giving Renaya and Cedri an unhindered escape into the gardens that connected the parade grounds with the hangers. The sides of the impromptu doorway still glowed a bright orange and whispered strands of acrid black smoke.<br/><br/>“For the Lad-” Lafren started before the white-hot plasma washed across his chest and burned through his ceremonial red robes in but an instant; melting his very flesh and bone in the process. It was neither painful nore pleasant as the shock of the grevious wound overwhelmed his conscious mind.<br/><br/>The last images to pass through the being known as Lafren Tormalkin, honorable royal guard of the Brivine bloodline, was that of the empty Dohrivin shock troopers as they advanced towards the escape hatch he had sworn to defend.<br/><br/>He was dead before what remained of his body hit the ground. And, before the<i>‘tink’</i>of his grenade bounced against the pristine mirror polished marble floor.<br/><br/><i>‘Boom’ </i><br/><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="1124" data-username="@Sunshine" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/1124/">@Sunshine</a>