I figured I haven't written anything in a while and I got this idea so here's the prologue.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Prologue
I was in the thick of the battle, the Forlorn Hope! My heart was racing and instinct took over. I broke ranks. I charged through the line of terrified enemies and slashed as I went, their terror was evident in their faces. When I came to my senses I realized where I was. Cut off. I couldn’t see my line, the only hope I had was to get back to my comrades. I slashed, bashed and slammed my way back through the enemy. I was desperate. There was a small ledge close by so I started towards it. When I reached it I leapt on top of it and looked for my comrades, my shield was getting heavier and my sword was slipping out of my sweat drenched hand. If I lost either I was as good as dead. I could see my line, but it was being pushed back, it wouldn’t reach me so I had to reach it. I soared through the air as my feet left the ledge and I landed with a thud on an enemy’s back, I heard a snap and he let out an agonizing scream. His comrades stopped in their tracks and moved outwards in a circle around me, So, this is how I die. So be it! I lifted my shield higher and waited for them to charge; as they came at me I lashed out, beating soldier after soldier with my sword and shield. After some time my sword broke in two and I threw it to the ground, I was done for if no-one came soon. I started fighting with my bare hands but eventually, I was overrun. I fell to the ground where Danish soldiers plunged their swords, axes and daggers into me.
I managed to survive until the battle ended and was found by one of the King’s friends who recognized me and had heard of my brave charge through the enemy.
‘King Galahad will have your sons made nobles and tell your family, and the rest of our kinsmen, of Sir Dante the Brave; Sir Dante the Noble; Sir Dante the Warrior.’ Richard told me.
‘Don’t…tell them…I was…afraid!’ I spluttered as my life left me.
"I think the lesson here is: It doesn't matter where you're from, as long as we're all the same religion." - Peter Griffin
Danish Dreams
-----------------------------------------------------------
Prologue
I was in the thick of the battle, the Forlorn Hope! My heart was racing and instinct took over. I broke ranks. I charged through the line of terrified enemies and slashed as I went, their terror was evident in their faces. When I came to my senses I realized where I was. Cut off. I couldn’t see my line, the only hope I had was to get back to my comrades. I slashed, bashed and slammed my way back through the enemy. I was desperate. There was a small ledge close by so I started towards it. When I reached it I leapt on top of it and looked for my comrades, my shield was getting heavier and my sword was slipping out of my sweat drenched hand. If I lost either I was as good as dead. I could see my line, but it was being pushed back, it wouldn’t reach me so I had to reach it. I soared through the air as my feet left the ledge and I landed with a thud on an enemy’s back, I heard a snap and he let out an agonizing scream. His comrades stopped in their tracks and moved outwards in a circle around me, So, this is how I die. So be it! I lifted my shield higher and waited for them to charge; as they came at me I lashed out, beating soldier after soldier with my sword and shield. After some time my sword broke in two and I threw it to the ground, I was done for if no-one came soon. I started fighting with my bare hands but eventually, I was overrun. I fell to the ground where Danish soldiers plunged their swords, axes and daggers into me.
I managed to survive until the battle ended and was found by one of the King’s friends who recognized me and had heard of my brave charge through the enemy.
‘King Galahad will have your sons made nobles and tell your family, and the rest of our kinsmen, of Sir Dante the Brave; Sir Dante the Noble; Sir Dante the Warrior.’ Richard told me.
‘Don’t…tell them…I was…afraid!’ I spluttered as my life left me.
"I think the lesson here is: It doesn't matter where you're from, as long as we're all the same religion." - Peter Griffin
Danish Dreams