"Hold the line!" Came the cry, "You run you die!" In the streets of their ruined city, a line of Trojans stretched across the road, preventing passage. The flames glinted off of their bronze helmets, and the tips of their javelins seemed molten in the fire light. Suddenly, out of the smoke, like a creature rising from hades, the Greeks marched. A storm a javelins felled some, but more arose out of the night to take their place. "For Priam, and for Troy! [i]Charge[/i]!" And with that, the Trojan line surged forwards, crashing into the Grecian monsters. And so the fight for their lives began. 

Further down the road...
   
"Why are we running that way? The Greeks are over there!" Cried Thintos, running after Ambrus.
"It's pointless, they've already broken through elsewhere. We must protect the King!" Ambrus lied. The king was most likely already dead, but the palace also happened to be the most likely escape route. Troy was doomed, any fool could see. He wasn't going to die because some king paid him to. Eventually, they reached the palace. It was already burning, the screams of the dying emanating off it's walls. Damn, no way through there. "What's that?" Asked Thintos, pointing towards a side gate, where a mule and cart were just stumbling through, heading, Ambrus guessed, for another exit. "It must be a coward, trying to flee. Come, we'll stop him!" Escape rout, thought Ambrus. It was not difficult to catch up with the cart, and Ambrus was easily able to leap atop it. Balancing next to the rider, he was finally able to get a good look at their face. Ah. Change of plan. "My lady, it's not safe for you to travel by yourself, might you not need an escort?"