They were winning, or so it seemed from their spot atop the hill, since all they could see was Masrur flinging thieves left and right and single-handedly making way for his men to advance forward towards the tilting tower.
Their pressing was working, for the thugs hiding inside were all but restless, finding themselves almost face to face with the infamous Lions Slayer, and their sole defense was the doors of the tower. They were much more trapped than safe in there.
" It's Masrur!"
" The Lions' Salyer!"
" Isn't this bad!?"
" We're done for!"
" Are you desert thieves or some snot-nosed brats!" A voice yelled at them from the back of their hideout and the whole building seemed to shake as it resounded through the small space. The ground quaked underneath their feet with the stomping of its owner. The large man made for the front, towering over them, not even the tallest of them could clear his waist, his broad chest puffed up, his dark eyes flaring dangerously.
