"We are the architects of our actions, subject to desires, whether fate brings glory or humiliation, mankind must learn to face consequences"
-Roberto De Medici
A scholar, a warrior, and above all else, a righteous man. Roberto understood the concept of futility in the eyes of absolute power, authority and tyranny. Crimson blood trickled down his dark and majestic beard from his forehead, his heartbeat echoing against his ribcage, his furrowed brow and piercing gaze stared into the looming castle while arrow-like rain penetrated his clothing. The end it seemed. His grey tunic soaking under his silver chest plate, clanging against the rain. His leather boots squelching under the muddy soil, the dark clouds roaring, almost as if they themselves were calling for his death. An army surrounded him, arrows pointed at his battle hardened visage. His long jet black hair covered his broad shoulders like a dark cloak surrounding the back of his muscular neck.
All hope had seemed like it had been lost, however Roberto knew fate had other plans for him. "De Omaros, De Marinos" he muttered to himself, bracing for the arduous battle ahead. He grasped the sword on his waist and charged, full speed ahead. Arrows flying, men screaming, thoughts emptied within the mind of Roberto. The only thing on his mind, survival. He unsheathed his sword and roared a mighty battle cry. Archers dismounted from their posts and charged, the 2 sides clashed.
Roberto swung his sword with such speed the air shook, slicing through two foes, their screams echoed within Roberto's mind. He grimaced and was met by arrows flying at all sides, Roberto was fast he dodged, followed by a parry of another Arrow, he had grabbed his foe's body and used it as a shield. A remarkable tactic, however such a tactic was ineffective as a party of swordsmen stabbed through the corpse forcing Roberto to retreat. Roberto knew he only had one chance to break through enemy lines, he summoned his resolve and charged into the never ending sea of enemies.
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He was met by soldiers on all sides, Roberto rolled and stabbed one man's leg, twisted his body and let out a kick into the stomach of another. He had heard a cry of pain from the soldiers, they attacked however Roberto parried and countered and released five accurate slashes into the abdomen of the enemy instantly killing him.
He grimaced with every life he took, but gripped his sword tighter with every swing, every slash held the weight of his life and every near miss held the weight of his death.
The enemy lines had parted and allowed one man to pass through, tall in stature and large in size. His sword sitting comfortably in his hand, his grey armour shining in the dark atmosphere. Roberto knew instantly this was the enemy commander. The dark skin and long hair of the commander glowed in this dystopian environment. The man charged and Roberto did also, their swords clashed. The man attempted to grab Roberto's collar however Roberto was smart he twisted and kicked yet again and let out a slash, the commander dodged however the sword sliced the commander's clothing, the commander laughed and let out a combination of 5 slashes, and the first two towards the torso of Roberto, and the final three towards the neck and head of Roberto, an attempt to redirect Roberto's attention and swiftly take his head. Roberto's inhumane reflexes allowed him to parry the first two swift attacks and rolled swiftly to safety. The enemy soldiers watched this battle unfold in awe, as these two mighty warriors clashed.