The King was busy widening the left-hand side of his little gathering, allowing more men to clamber up the walls after him, and to fill in the space that he had made.
Amongst the resistance, and helping to lead it, along with a Blackthorn Colonel, there was Verdant Idris, wearing a rather grave expression, as continually their men were scythed down by King Germanicus' warhammer, as if they were nothing more than ripe shoots of wheat.
Oliver had worried, on the whole way over as he dashed through those streets of Ernest as to what he might do when he arrived. He had wondered how he might take advantage of the situation that he had created, even after all the damage that had occurred.
He supposed that, at least, he would be able to rally the men, and stop Germanicus from taking over the stairs. But that plan had been defeated in an instant, given that not a single soldier remained alive by those stairs.
