<strong>Sebastian Archambault</strong>Outside the Carriages [Marcus Dupont, Richard Dupont, Aron & Eriq Gerard, William Bond, Louis Blanc, Lilian Montague]<br/><br/>A sharp pain and the ground rising to meet him at far to fast a pace is the last conscious thought Sebastian has before his eyes shut. The muffled thunder of gun shots and the clash of steel fade away to distant echoes as he slips away.<br/><br/><em>Ivy Montague stands on a balcony, a lace shawl wrapped around her shoulders, gazing at the night sky as Sebastian walks up. The big smith smiles as she turns suddenly shocked at first but then she returns his smile with one that could make the moon envious.<br/><br/>“Ivy, my darling,” he begins. “I…I have always loved you.” He blurts out the words like a drowning man gulps for air. “I know I could never provide for you the type of life you deserve but that will change.” With pride he raises a fist to his heart and swears as tears of joy well in the young woman’s eyes.. “I will make you proud to be my wife. I will return with riches beyond that of your father and he will bless our union and…”<br/><br/>Suddenly, Lilian’s voice interrupts his monologue. That woman always interrupted Sebastian’s time with Ivy, either calling her away to gossip like old women or walking up with her flock of over painted peacocks she called friends. “Ivy, sweetest dear, just what are you doing out here in the cold with the servants?” <br/><br/> Sebastian rounds angrily on the elder sister, eyes blazing with fury. “I was just asking Ivy to be my bride”, he says boldly. Lilian Montague laughed.<br/><br/>Her laughter cut the big man to the core of his being. Enraged he howls as he grabs her shoulders. Still she laughs. A mad cackle that will not end, he wants to cover his ears. In desperation he throws Lilian from the balcony. Only to see as she plummets to the dirt her form shift. Like a flickering shadow cast by a dying candle, Ivy looks up at him her gaze pleading as she falls.<br/><br/>“NO!!!” He cries.</em><br/><br/>With a start the smith sits up like a bolt, and then gasps as his left shoulder protests the sudden movement with a bright lance of agony.<strong>“What?”</strong>He reaches up only to feel the sticky warmth of his own blood spreading across his tunic.<br/><br/><strong>“That woman…”</strong>he hisses as he struggles to stand.<strong>“Had better hope she is well and safe or so help me. I'll paddle her bottum myself till she cannot sit for a week. Lady or no I swear it!”</strong><br/><br/>Lurching forward Bastian covers the remaining ground to the carriages in a few long strides. Looking back at the carnage of battle he decides he is of no use in the melee right now. No, he had to get patched up before he bleeds to death.<br/><br/>Picking his way past the first carriage he stares in wonderment as a thick blanket of fog covers the last coach.<strong>“Sorcery,”</strong>he growls through clenched teeth.<strong>“Out! Out of the carriage M’ladies. The Falkovnians have wizards…”</strong>He stumbles against the second carriage door loudly. His strength fading as his vision swims.<br/><br/>“Must protect…Ivy…”He mutters as he slumps down amongst the wheel’s spokes. "Have to keep her...safe." He tugs his hammer loose and shakily lifts it. It is so heavy now.<em>Just like my eyelids</em>, he muses.<br/>