Mortimer VI woke to the sound of feet running outside, the bells were ringing, the shrill noise designed to be heard for miles, if there was anyone to hear it that is. He got up and changed quickly, grabbing the sword. He thought back to the day when the guns still worked, or had ammunition. The inventors were trying hard to fix them but they had been for the last ten years. He climbed the wooden ladder he had soon reached, as he looked over the walls he saw what he hopped would never come. The last organized army of the Simbots, the reddened eyes of age and mechanical hatred, glared into his soul. If only the other generations had treated them with respect. He was elected head of the fort, there had to be about One hundred and fifty of the bots, compared to only fifty men, sixty women and about twenty children. His wizened eyes searched the enemies ranks, his eyes settling on a box of explosives, theses bots would suicide to break open the gates and get at the sims. They had no choice, they needed to get out. He gave out orders to go to the trapdoor, and mobilize the sims. Within ten minutes they all stood in the centre, then with anything of value on their backs they moved to the secret part of the wall, it was hollow and inside was the way out, a tunnel to the beach. A sentry on the wall shouted that the enemy was getting closer, just as the last sims were going into the tunnel. The sentry ran inside followed by Guards and then Mortimer, closing the door just as the thudding came in to ear shot. The black tunnel went about a mile underground an doubt on the beach, there was no stop for rest, they immediately marched north into the thicker forest. Hunters who were experts in tracking covering the tracks behind them. Mortimer looked south, over that horizon the enemy lay siege to an empty fort, they would soon know, a few seconds after that thought flames shot into the sky, they had got inside...
