The Black Knight
This story is part 4 of The Siege, a 5 part series that started in Enemies At The Gates
The Black Knight
With the arrival of the Knights Of the Morning Star, the king’s elite warriors, the tide of the battle turned. The men’s spirits had been bolstered, and with a cry that shook the caer to its very foundation, they charged into battle, fighting with the ferocity of a mother wolf protecting her pups. We tore through the enemy forces, severing limbs and cleaving skulls as we went.
With the knights at the lead, an aura of courage and light emanating from them, we crashed into the enemy like a wave crashing against the shore. They tried to hold us back, but it was no use. We pushed them back, pressing them against the wall, slaughtering them.
The men’s spirits soared as more and more of the enemy fell before our swords. Their numbers dwindled as we fought on, determined that note a single foe left this place alive.
I buried my sword in the base of an enemy’s neck, black blood spraying from the wound as I pulled my blade free. As I spun to block a blow from behind, the wall of the caer exploded, sending both friend and foe flying. A boulder narrowly missed me, crushing my opponent.
As the dust settles, I looked and saw a monster of a man astride a jet-black horse; it’s eyes glowing as if on fire. His armor was more fearsome then the enemies we had been fighting, black as the darkest night, with spikes protruding from his shoulders.
In his hand he held a massive war hammer. I doubt that our three strongest men, using both hands, could even lift it, yet he was wielding it effortlessly with one hand, brining it crashing down on friend and foe alike.
Even our enemies fled in terror before this behemoth as he swung his hammer, sending men flying. The sounds of swords clashing were replaced by screams of fear as he cut through our ranks.
My heart sank as I watched him destroy my men. It would take a miracle to with this battle. With out help from the Dagda, all would be lost.
With the arrival of the Knights Of the Morning Star, the king’s elite warriors, the tide of the battle turned. The men’s spirits had been bolstered, and with a cry that shook the caer to its very foundation, they charged into battle, fighting with the ferocity of a mother wolf protecting her pups. We tore through the enemy forces, severing limbs and cleaving skulls as we went.
With the knights at the lead, an aura of courage and light emanating from them, we crashed into the enemy like a wave crashing against the shore. They tried to hold us back, but it was no use. We pushed them back, pressing them against the wall, slaughtering them.
The men’s spirits soared as more and more of the enemy fell before our swords. Their numbers dwindled as we fought on, determined that note a single foe left this place alive.
I buried my sword in the base of an enemy’s neck, black blood spraying from the wound as I pulled my blade free. As I spun to block a blow from behind, the wall of the caer exploded, sending both friend and foe flying. A boulder narrowly missed me, crushing my opponent.
As the dust settles, I looked and saw a monster of a man astride a jet-black horse; it’s eyes glowing as if on fire. His armor was more fearsome then the enemies we had been fighting, black as the darkest night, with spikes protruding from his shoulders.
In his hand he held a massive war hammer. I doubt that our three strongest men, using both hands, could even lift it, yet he was wielding it effortlessly with one hand, brining it crashing down on friend and foe alike.
Even our enemies fled in terror before this behemoth as he swung his hammer, sending men flying. The sounds of swords clashing were replaced by screams of fear as he cut through our ranks.
My heart sank as I watched him destroy my men. It would take a miracle to with this battle. With out help from the Dagda, all would be lost.
posted by R.C. at
10:26 PM
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