"Come on Rob! Run!"
He pumped his legs as fast as he could, flying over the roughly hewn floor of the corridor. His boots thumped hard, causing his scabbard to rattle, and his pack to jingle. He huffed as he closed the distance, the scroll case held in a death grip on his left hand, his sword in an equally white-knuckle grip with his right.
"Rob! Watch out!"
With that, Rob caught sight of the first of the arrows skittering of the right wall of the corridor, which was suddenly much narrower than he would have liked. He changed his gait, sending his right leg forward, locked tight, with his foot pointed forwards. As he did so, he let his left leg collapse under him, pointing that foot backwards, allowing his to slide onto the ground.
The metal studs on his left greave scrapped against the floor, while the carabineers, pitons, and buckles of his pack jangled. He leaned far back. His hat, if he hadn't lost it already, would have sailed off his head as it nearly hit, instead he watched as nearly two dozen arrows flew over him, into the space he formerly occupied.
"Rob!" Mary shouted, taking cover behind the heavy wooden door not twenty feet away.
He performed another acrobatic maneuver, using the last bit of his momentum to get him standing again. He lifted his right leg slightly, bent it, and slammed it into the floor, the deep treads of his boot catching tight against the floor. Simultaneously, he kicked up with his left leg and leaned forwards. He quickly brought his left leg forwards to catch his fall, and then, within two strides, was back at his full run, now just feet from the door.
He leaned left, so that he could slide past her through the open door, leading with the scroll case. She reached over and behind him as he passed, grabbed the door, then slammed it shut behind him, plunging them from the dim torch light of the corridor into sudden darkness.
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