Galan stood at the foot of the path leading from the seashore, through the cliffs, into the kingdom. The tip of his broadsword rested on the sandy rock. His armor gleamed in the sunlight. He’d been scrupulous in his preparations. Each plate perfectly polished, perfectly attached. His sword sharpened to its finest edge.
The cliffs to either side of the path were lined with archers that would rain death down on the invaders when they arrived. He was there, at the entrance to the path, to insure no invaders made it to the path. Behind him was Landen, then Marnock, and one by one, each of the remaining knights. Each would fight until they fell.
Galan embraced the honor of being the first knight to face the invaders. He hoped he would pass beyond the veil of life with honor, as a true warrior, and defender of the realm.