Sir Gregory trotted down the forest path atop his magnificent Bretonnian Warhorse, an aloof smile across his face.
Gregory had just completed another successful campaign clearing out goblin camps in the far north east with his 5 brave Knights Errant in tow; the knight was eager to deliver both the news of the goblin’s destruction and the strange large glowing green stone re had recovered from their camp.
It was a long march back to Bretonnia but the Knights were in high spirits and were making good ground, as the sun started to go down they made camp for the night in a small glade.
Gregory woke with a start, he could have sworn he heard laughter on the wind. Crawling outside his tent to investigate he saw nothing in the pale moonlit clearing. An ungodly stench filled the air, “I hate this cursed land” he muttered to himself as he settled back down to sleep, longing for the finery of home.
After an unsettled sleep the band of Knights prepared to set off for another long days march but “Sir Florian the bold” was nowhere to be seen. “It’s just like that impetuous little cad to gallivant off on his own seeking glory” said Gregory “no matter he can catch up”.
It was high noon when the the forest path narrowed and an eerie silence took hold.
“What is that smell” Sir Trevor the cautious said with a grimace across his face, Eric the wise replied “Probably just the local peasants , I have a squier who smells just like…”
Before he could even finish his sentence he fell from his horse an arrow lodged in his neck. Sir Trevor did not hesitate and charged head long in the direction of the arrows blocking another two with his shield before he disappeared from view into the undergrowth.
Another volley of arrows rained down from the opposite direction as another knight came crashing to the ground.
Sir Gregory and his remaining knight errant dug in their heels and ran for cover at full gallop, where is Sir Florian when we need him Gregory shouted? He heard the sound of hooves from behind them, “Florian it’s about time” he said; He turned and looked over his shoulder but could only see a broken warhorse on the ground with no knights left in sight.
At that moment he was struck from his horse from the side with a mighty mace blow. as he sailed through the air he caught a glimpse of a caped rider atop a powerfull steed.
“Show yourself you coward” he screamed as he crawled to his feet.
The rider slowly emerged from the gloom, as Gregory raised his gaze he was first met by the sight of hooves, then a long slender horses body that morphed into a grotesque horned figure carrying a large crude mace.
“For the lady” he shouted as he drew his sword and prepared to charge.
At that moment Gregory felt a strange floating feeling like nothing he had felt before, he wondered if this was some kind of blessing from the lady herself.
What he didn’t realise is that his head had already left his body, a single blow from behind sent his decapitated head spinning through the air and for a split second he caught a glimpse of the hulking 7 foot tall Beastmen chieftain behind him. With a blood curdling bleating coming from all directions everything went dark.
The time of Shartak has come!!!