The Black Crusade

Spurts of dust rose lazily into the air, kicked up by the hooves of two horses that were galloping north along the Eyan highway. Each bore a rider, fully armored and ready for battle. One of the horses was a large gray warhorse, a tag hanging from its neck stating that it was bought from the stables at the far-off city of Aina. The other was a medium-sized riding horse, its neck tag reading " The Windy Bluff Stables ".

The rider on the warhorse was a young Arayan, tall and bronze-skinned, his head crowned by a knight's helmet of Aina make. About his neck hung a strange amulet, round in shape and bearing the graven image of a sword-wielding knight upon a horse. It seemed to glow in the morning sun as the sunlight brushed upon its burnished gold surface. The amulet marked its wearer as a member of the Knighthood, an order of knights devoted to justice and the ideals of chivalry. Alongside the Arayan's saddle hung an enormous, six-foot long claymore of glowing blue steel in an engraved leather sheath.

Riding close behind on the medium horse was a slightly older Human, his wrist bound by a shimmering wristlet that hummed gently as its wearer raised his hand. It was a wristlet of Parity, the symbol of the Guardians clan. Sheathed at the human's side was a strange longsword of antique make and craftsmanship. It emitted a soft glow even through the worn leather of its scabbard.

The two horses stopped at the end of the Eyan highway as both riders reined in their steeds. In the near distance, the city walls of Eria could clearly be seen through the trees on either side of the highway.

The Human rider looked about him intently. " Where to from here, Sir Krothgar? " he asked his companion.

The Arayan rider responded with a terseness that told of his unease. " Up ahead, friend Sirseth. West from the city walls will we encounter that which we seek. "

" Let us go at once, " said Sirseth, who had first spoken. " They must not be given time to rally in force against us. "

" Well spoken, friend Sirseth, " said the Knight Templar. " Let us not waste a second more tarrying here! "

And with that, both knights sawed their reins about and resumed their gallop at a fast pace towards the city of Eria. The city walls loomed into clear view within several minutes and two dwarven guards, clad in gleaming bronze armor and armed with long iron swords sheathed at their sides, could be seen standing watch at the west gate.

One of the guards, almost nodding off to sleep in the early afternoon sun, suddenly jolted to wakeful alertness as the sounds of horsehooves striking the earth invaded his ears. He immediately unsheathed his sword and stepped forward, raising it as he called out, " Who goes there? " in the common speech.

The Templar rode forward at a slow gallop, raising his voice so his words would be heard by the guards. " We are Knights of the town of Windy Bluff, come in aid to your city against the Black Knights. " As he spoke, he turned slightly to show the Knighthood amulet hanging upon his neck. Both guards recognised it at once.

The first guard sheathed his iron sword and signalled, with a wave of his hand, that the knights should come forth. As they approached and dismounted, he came forward, wiping his brow with obvious relief.

" Praise be to Tarin that you have come, Sir Knights! " he exclaimed. " For the past four moons our city has been under dreadful assault from the Black Knights to the west. Their numbers are many and we cannot hold them back forever. Long have we prayed for such as yourselves to come forth to aid us in this time of need. "

Krothgar looked beyond the guard into the city itself, seeing nothing but deserted streets and semi-wrecked houses lining the inner walls. The walls themselves bore signs of assault; slash marks and great fractures could be clearly seen in the stone. " Where are the citizens? " he asked as the guards took him and Sirseth into the city.

" They have gathered in the inner city, Sir Templar, " said the guard. " Many of our city guards have fled or been slain at the hands of the Black Knights since the attacks began. We fear that Eria will not withstand the next assault. "

" That shall not happen, " vowed Sirseth. " What do you know of these invaders? "

" Four moons ago, they came from the western forest and attacked our city in force, " explained the second guard. " They slew many of our guards and citizens, and captured three of our Senators back to their stronghold in the forest. We pulled back to the inner city in the hopes that they would give up the assaults and return to whence they came, but it seemed not to work. "

" We believe they are renegade knight-errants who have joined up in the hopes that they may capture Eria and use it as a stronghold for other purposes, " said the first guard. " Now, less than two dozen guards are all that remain of our garrison. When they come again.... " He sighed.

" There seems to be only two alternatives, " said Sirseth. " We must either lie in wait here for them to come again, or we must strike at their forest stronghold and slay them to the last man! "

" The best way to kill a serpent is to cut its head off, " said the Templar. " As soon as all the city guards are massed together and made ready, we must invade the Black Knights' stronghold. "

" The guards are down on their morale, and they are too weak and exhausted to mount a full-scale assault upon an overwhelming enemy, " argued Sirseth. " We must stay here and repel the Black Knights' next attack, before we can plan an offensive against them. "

" Well said, " agreed the Templar. " Very well then, that is what we shall do. " He turned to the two dwarven guards. " Gather the garrison guards together in the town square, and have them prepare themselves for battle. If what you have just told me is to be believed, the Black Knights shall strike soon to seal their victory over the city. We must be ready to meet them with cold steel when they arrive! "

The guards nodded and hurried off to obey, while the two knights found a ruined stable deeper in the city to stable their mounts. The smell of rotting flesh was heavy in the air, emanating from a corpse lying in the corner of the stable----the dead stablemaster. A ragged hole, now covered with congealed blood, had been torn by a lance-point through his chest.

" No fees charged for this stabling, then, " muttered the Templar as he flicked a glance at the rotting corpse sprawled out in the corner.

The morning passed quickly, and soon the sun was high in the sky as mid-afternoon approached. Krothgar and SIrseth strode on foot through the ruined outer city, heading for the town square where the guards were ordered to gather. A motley group of pale, frightened guards, lined up in some semblance of military order, met their stern gazes.

Krothgar looked at one of the armor-clad figures standing nearby, and gestured to him. " What is your name, man? " he asked.

" You will assume command of the city guards from this moment on, " said the Templar. " Have them spread out in three different positions near the west gate. They will be split into three groups, one to each position. You shall lead one, Lord Sirseth shall lead the second, and the third shall be lead by I. Do I make myself clear? "

" My group shall charge first when the invaders arrive, " the Templar continued. " You will await Lord Sirseth's signal to advance your group. Now go! "

Ten minutes later, the city guards were divided into three seperate divisions, each holding a different position twenty feet from the west gate. The gate had been thrown open beforehand to allow the invaders easy access through into the outer city.

Mounted upon his large warhorse, partially concealed behind the wrecked hulk of a burned-down house, the Templar glanced through the open gate at the forest which lay beyond. Thoughtfully, he fingered his enormous claymore as he pondered the coming battle. Some distance away sat Sirseth on his medium horse, giving low words of encouragement to his guards. Beyond him Krothgar could vaguely see the grim-faced Silverius crouching at the head of his group, a huge bearded axe clutched in both hands, awaiting the signal to charge.

The wind died down, all stood still. The only sounds in the unearthly stillness were the soft snorting of the knights' horses and the faint clinking of metal as the guards shifted nervously in their armor.

Suddenly, a cacophony of blood-freezing yells split the silence from up ahead, followed by the clash of steel against steel. Without warning a horde of perhaps thirty armored warriors emerged from the trees, charging in an elaborate spear-head formation towards the open west gate. Each of the warriors were clad in jet-black armor from head to foot, bearing heavy black lances of Eyan steel in both hands. Their eyes burned murderously through the visors of their black helmets as they closed in on the seemingly unprotected city gate, screaming incomprehensible war-cries as they charged forward.

Rising up in his stirrups, the Templar bellowed forth a resounding battle-cry and dug his booted feet into the flanks of his warhorse, spurring it forward at a gallop. Out came his fearsome claymore, a shimmering lance of glowing blue-steel in the sun. He raised it above his head as he rode, and behind him came his guards, surging forth like a tidal wave of gleaming bronze.

The wall of advancing black steel before him closed rapidly nearer as he rode, and as he crashed into the front rank of black-clad knights there came a ringing clash of metal that almost jarred Krothgar's claymore from his hand. The massive five-and-a-half-foot blade had sheared through the neckguard of the knight in the lead, severing his head from his torso. The bronze-clad city guards clashed next with the lance-wielding black knights, swinging their iron swords at anything black that moved around them.

" Glory to the Guardians! " shouted Sirseth as his horse bore him forward into battle at the head of his group of guards. His antique sword flashed in the sunlight as it sliced through the air onto the casque of a black-clad knight in his path, splitting the invader's head like a hot knife through butter. Rapidly cutting down another two black-clad invaders, he turned in his saddle and made a slashing motion in the air with his blood-stained sword towards where Silverius was crouching: the signal to charge.

A chorus of rousing warcries arose from the outer city as the Erian blacksmith charged forward in the lead, his division of city guards close behind. He clashed with three black knights in his path, slaying two of them with a rapid back-blow of his great axe and dispatching the third with a lunge to the torso.

The Templar swung his steed around and rode to Silverius's aid, leaning out slightly in his saddle and making a vicious swing with his glowing-blue claymore as he swept past. The blade crunched deep into the jet-black breastplate of a snarling Black Knight, toppling the warrior like a badly constructed wax doll. He swung his warhorse around again for a second charge and was met by the tip of a black lance that hurtled towards his chest. Instinctively, he raised his heavy kite shield and the lance impacted against it, almost hurling him from the saddle. Amazingly, he kept his balance and managed to turn his mount towards the lance's bearer, trampling the black-armored knight to death beneath the hooves of the warhorse.

Behind the Templar, Sirseth thrust with his antique sword and downed yet another Black Knight who was struggling to pull his lance from the writhing form of a dying Erian guard. Five other guards leapt upon the invader's struggling form and hacked him repeatedly until he was truly dead. Rearing his medium horse high up in the air, Sirseth directed his mount at another Black Knight in his path. The horse's hooves flailed like warhammers at the black-armored invader, sending him crashing to the ground with massive dents in his armor. A well-aimed pierce between the bars of his helmet visor swiftly dispatched him.

Silverius rushed forward in a bull-like charge, his bearded axe maiming any of the black-clad knights who stood in his path. Twice he was hit by an invader's black lance, but each time he shrugged off the blows, as though his skin was made of stone, and chopped down his assailant with a two-handed swing of his axe. His eyes blazed with battle frenzy as he chopped to the left and right, sometimes wielding his great axe in one hand as he grabbed the pauldron of a nearby Black Knight, pulling the invader closer for a clean strike at the neck.

Clawing away the blood and gore that stained his eyes and visor, Krothgar cast a glance at the remaining Black Knights, who were now fleeing like rabbits before the onslaught of the surviving city guards. " Victory is ours! " he hollered and rode forward at a fast gallop, determined to hunt down and slay every single surviving invader.

His valiant efforts proved futile, as the Black Knights had passed the western city gate and disappeared into the forest just as he spurred his exhausted horse to the gate. He thrust his blue steel claymore, now splashed crimson with the blood of the invaders, back into its saddle-sheath and rode slowly back into the outer city, where he proceeded to assess the situation that faced him.

" About ten of them escaped our swords, " reported Silverius the blacksmith, who was having his wounds tended to by a guard. He looked around him at the invaders' corpses lying everywhere, twisted into grotesque shapes and bathed in their own blood, their jet-black armor slashed and torn by Erian swords.

The Templar nodded and rode over to Sirseth, who was healing a wounded guard through use of minor curative magic. He uttered a few incantations and immediately the guard's injuries closed, leaving not even a mark on the flesh. Within seconds the guard was back on his feet, thanking the Guardians knight profusely for the magical healing.

Sirseth turned to Krothgar, smiling. " They have lost many today, Sir Templar, " he said. " Now we can begin planning our attack against their stronghold. They are the ones now feeling weak and demoralized. " He sheathed his antique sword.

" Get Silverius to rally the guards and let them have some rest, " said the Templar. " By dawn tomorrow we shall charge! The Black Knights shall feel the wrath of the true knights ere the rising sun heralds a new day. "

The eastern sky was still dark, laced with streaks of light blue and edged with white wispy trails. A chill wind blew, rustling the trees at the edge of the forest to the west of the besieged city of Eria. Inside the city walls themselves huddled a ragged gathering of bronze-armored Erian city guards, all crouched around a guttering fire that blazed atop a giant heap of kindling and tinder.

Pacing up and down, his bloodstained bearded axe swinging loosely in one hand, Silverius the blacksmith surveyed the heaps of black-armored corpses that lay piled up inside the ruins of what was once a leather-tanning shop. He then turned to Krothgar and SIrseth, who were conversing in low tones in a shadowed corner of the nearby stable building.

" We have but ten men remaining, Sir Knights, " he said worriedly. " How can we possibly hope to mount an assault with so few guards left? "

" Fear not, master blacksmith, " replied the Templar as he swabbed the bloodstains from his knight's helmet with a wadded cloth. " They shall be all we need to destroy the invaders, if they fight well and hard! "

" We must attack swiftly, and soon, so that we have the element of surprise, " added Sirseth, who was busy sharpening the keen cutting edge of his antique sword. The glow from its blade cast a faint light on his features as he worked.

One of the guards, who had been sitting by the fire, arose and walked over to the knights. " Look yonder, Sir Knights, " said he, pointing to the sky. " A storm approaches. " As if in confirmation of his words there came a distant rumbling of thunder in the clouds high above, sounding like a deep-throated animal growl coming up from the earth itself.

" We can use the storm to our advantage, " said Krothgar decisively as he buckled his helmet back on. " Ere the hour is past, we must move! Rally the men, Silverius. Let us finish the invaders once and for all. "

Ten minutes later, lightning split the sky like fiery white swords as rain came lashing down in great silvery sheets. Thunder boomed in the pre-dawn sky, giving rise to more flashes of lightning that illuminated everything within sight in its harsh white glare.

Each burst of lightning showed a column of grim-faced soldiers clad in bronze armor, iron swords ready in hands, marching in single file towards the western forest. At their head was an armored figure clutching a great two-handed axe, accompanied by two armed riders on horseback. The assault upon the Black Knights' stronghold was beginning.

The Templar rode forward at a slow gallop, leading the column of sword-wielding Erian guards. They advanced deep into the forest, slashing at vines and overhanging branches in their path.

" Keep your eyes peeled, " Silverius instructed his men. " They could be anywhere. "

Just ahead, partly hidden by overhanging tree-branches, the glow of a sheltered campfire could clearly be seen, and surrounding that, a constantly shifting mass of rain-slick, jet-black steel. The clink of weapons and armor then reached the guards' ears, followed by hoarse grunts and low voices.

" Prepare! " Sirseth hissed, and the guards immediately spread out, hiding behind trees and thick clumps of bushes. Silverius took up position behind a fallen log, his axe poised ready to strike.

The Templar peered intently through the lashing curtain of rain, counting a mere dozen Black Knights walking about the camp. A few more could be seen in the trees beyond. He waited no further.

Spurring his warhorse forward at a full gallop, Krothgar rode down on the Black Knights, yelling a berserk war-cry that sent every Black Knight whirling around in shock. In one swift motion he unsheathed his massive claymore and executed a full swing, hewing the helmeted head off a Black Knight in the lead. Behind him came Sirseth on his medium horse, his antique sword stabbing through the rain at the unvisored helmet of another black-clad invader. The man screamed and fell crashing to the ground in a splash of grass and mud, blood streaming freely from the wound between his eyes. He was promptly silenced as the Templar's horsehooves crashed down upon him like sledgehammers.

Recovering quickly, the Black Knights picked up their lances and charged, gibbering incoherently as they ran. The Erian guards, too, leapt from their hiding places and threw themselves into the fray, led by the axe-wielding Silverius. The screams of man and metal echoed through the forest, punctuated only by ear-splitting claps of thunder and regular flashes of lightning that lit up the field of battle.

Erian swords flashed amidst the rain as they clashed against the armored torsos of Black Knights, and in turn the jet-black lances gleamed with every flash of lightning as they tore gashes and holes in the guards' bronze armor. The bearded axe of Silverius swung about like a whirlwind of blurred steel, crunching into the armor of the blacksmith's foes and sending their heads flying.

Deftly evading the tip of a black lance that was shooting towards his helmet, the Templar hit its wielder with a crunching elbow-smash that sent him reeling. He then spurred his warhorse forward two short steps and chopped the stricken Black Knight across the neck with the edge of his hand, felling him. His dying screams were audible above the noises of battle as Krothgar's claymore pierced his breastplate and ran smoothly through his chest.

Sirseth sawed the reins of his medium horse around and charged at a pair of Black Knights who were menacing Silverius with their Eyan-steel lances. He struck to the left and right in a series of repeated blows, sending both black-clad knights stumbling forwards with bleeding wounds in the backs of their necks. Silverius howled with glee and drew back his axe, the blade trailing scarlet spray, before putting all his strength behind one mighty swing that decapitated both Black Knights and sent their limp, headless corpses thudding with dull splashes to the muddy ground.

Next to Sirseth, a Black Knight stumbled about, clutching a gaping wound in his chest. He lifted his face to the stormy skies and bellowed a final curse before toppling to the ground. Two Erian guards rushed past to the aid of the Templar, dispatching Krothgar's opponent with a series of stabbing blows to the Black Knight's neck.

Shouting his thanks to the guards, the Templar gazed about him. Already half the Erian guards lay dead, but almost all the Black Knights had been slain. As he watched, Silverius buried the blade of his bearded axe in the back of a struggling Black Knight, felling the invader.

Nearby another Black Knight, taller than the others and bearing a curious crest painted in gold upon his helmet crest, lunged at a badly injured Erian guard and sent the bronze-armored soldier falling lifeless to the mud. He wielded not a lance, but a gargantuan greatsword that was almost larger than Krothgar's own claymore. His eyes burned feverishly as he looked up, seeing all his men dead and the remaining Erian guards closing in with murder-filled expressions and drawn swords.

" You will all pay for this! " he roared and charged forward, essaying a wide sweep of his greatsword and scything down three guards like a farmer slicing corn. As the other guards faltered, frozen in their tracks by the spectacle of the attack, he laughed in disdain and swung again, sending another two guards crashing dead to the marshy forest floor. Swiftly slaying the last guard with a quick back-sweep, he then spun on his heel and faced Silverius, his mammoth-sized greatsword gripped tightly in two rock-like, gauntleted fists.

The Erian blacksmith howled and lunged at the Black Knight leader, but his bearded axe clanged off the wide blade of the leader's greatsword like a pebble off a stone wall. Before he could bring it back for a second blow, the leader thrust with his greatsword, inflicting a grievious wound in Silverius's stomach with the force of the blow. The blacksmith dropped his axe, stumbling backwards with both hands clutched to his wound, then fell like a wet rag upon the grass, moaning in pain.

Seeing this, the Templar swung off his horse and stepped forward in the path of the Black Knight leader, the glowing blue blade of his massive claymore raised before him to match the glistening steel blade of the leader's greatsword.

" Leave the wounded to their fate, infidel knight, " he commanded, " and face I, a Templar of Araya and of the Knighthood, in single combat! "

Sirseth dismounted and rushed to Silverius's side, supporting the wounded blacksmith and proceeding to heal the injury using his magical powers. He glanced up at Krothgar, and nodded.

The Black Knight leader grinned, a wicked grin that exposed a mouth full of rotting teeth. " You do not know your peril, Sir Knight, " he spat. " For I, Folbar the Invincible, head of the Black Knights, have slain a thousand men in combat ere this day! You cannot possibly hold against my power! " Here he laughed in disdain.

Folbar's laugh broke off suddenly. " Very well, Templar! Let us see who shall prevail! " And with that, he stepped expertly into a fighting position, the blade of his enormous greatsword held out before him at arm's length.

In response, Krothgar hung his kite shield on the saddle horn of his warhorse and stepped forward, assuming a fighting stance with his blue steel claymore in both hands, pointed straight at the black-armored Folbar.

Folbar's eyes narrowed to slits, then suddenly he roared and rushed at Krothgar, his greatsword slicing through the air to cut into the side of a tree behind where the Templar had been standing. The hollow "thump" as the blade cut into the bark was echoed by the keen whistle of another blade slicing air; this time, the Templar's claymore.

The glowing blue-steel blade crunched deep into the side of Folbar's armor, but the Black Knight seemed unperturbed by the terrible injury and instead pressed forward his attack. Steel clashed against steel as the two knights battled up and down the clearing. The shelter was knocked off the campfire during the fight, and the falling rain swiftly extinguished the flames. Smoke swirled up into the Templar's eyes, distracting him for a moment and allowing Folbar an unparried thrust at the Arayan's midsection.

Sensing the danger, Krothgar swung aside and the broad blade of the Black Knight's greatsword shot past his breastplate, missing the polished steel surface by a hair's breadth. Before Folbar could recover, Krothgar leapt back a few paces and swung with his claymore, striking a direct blow on the side of the jet-black helmet. Folbar staggered sideways, crab-like, before lifting up his greatsword again. His eyes betrayed the pain from the wound in his side.

The Templar allowed himself a cold smile of triumph. " You will pardon me if I do not share your point of view, infidel, " he said sternly.

In response, Folbar drew himself up to his full height, biting back the pain from his wound, and hefted his greatsword in one hand. The murderous glare in his eyes bespoke his intention: a bitter, losing battle to the death!

The Black Knight ground his teeth in rage. " Never!!! " he yelled and dashed at the Arayan with his greatsword up in both hands, ready to sweep down like an executioner's axe.

Sirseth gasped as he saw the greatsword descending on Krothgar's helmet, then suddenly its wielder stopped in his tracks, a look of shocked surprise clearly visible on his face behind his rain-wet helmet visor.

The Templar withdrew his claymore from Folbar's torso, and the Black Knight stumbled several steps sideways, his eyes wide and staring with a glazed look in them. His greatsword slipped from his hand and hit the wet ground with a soft splash. Blood gushed from a wide, ragged tear in the jet-black breastplate.

" You chose to perish, " said Krothgar coldly, and with a parting curse on his lips he drew back his enormous claymore with both hands and let swing with all his force. Folbur's beheaded corpse made a sickening thud as it splashed heavily down into the waterlogged ground.

The Templar held his sword-hilt before his face in a mock salute before wiping the claymore clean on the wet grass and slipping it back into its saddle-sheath.

" Well fought, Sir Templar, " said Sirseth as he approached. Silverius was sitting up on the muddy ground, his wounds obviously healed by SIrseth's magical powers. The storm had by now abated to a mere drizzle, wreathing around the corpses of the Erian city guards and dead Black Knights lying about.

Krothgar lifted the visor of his helmet and extended a hand to help Silverius up. " All the guards are dead, " said the blacksmith, shaking his head sadly.

" They died for a good cause, " replied the Templar. " Let us burn the corpses as soon as we can find dry wood, and give these brave soldiers an honourable burial. "

So it was that, hours later, in the clearing which had once served as the encampment of the Black Knights, the Erian guards were buried in full armor. Towering over their graves was a great fire that burned and crackled, consuming the bodies of the dead Black Knights and their leader.

The knights then saddled up and rode off back towards the Eyan highway, without so much as a formal farewell to the remaining townsfolk of Eria, who had come also into the forest after the battle to help out and witness the burial. The people, with Silverius the blacksmith at their head, lingered by the graves to pay their final respects before returning to commence the rebuilding of their shattered city.

Mud and grass were kicked up by the horses' hooves as the two knights rode away, splattering across a large wooden post set up by the side of the mass graves. It bore upon its rain-streaked surface, several lines of carved writing:

"Let them be forever remembered
as those who fought for the freedom of their city.
Here lie those who served Eria well and truly,
and who gave their lives to protect it during the Black Crusade."

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