A figure leans against a tree on a cliff, a greatsword on his back, a spear in hand. A woman in a black dress and witch's hat approaches him, walking along the path toward the bench, her scythe like a walking stick on the dirt path, a lantern swaying on its blade, a faint mist around her feet.
"Undina." A deep, ancient voice whispers, "I tire, these foolish kings send wave after wave of armies to claim Del-Tolauis, for centuries I have slain them, I wish to rest." the woman sits on the bench, her face covered by a silvery veil, her voice soft and gentle, "My knight you have done well but know that i can not grant you rest, only companionship, your soul is unable to move on." She says, a trace of regret in her voice.
The figure in black armor sighs and walks over to her, "Shall we set off?" he offers a hand to the woman.
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A knight stands on the battlefield, greatsword swinging wildly, slicing through the bodies around him, his silver armor dyed crimson with blood, a pile forming around him, an arrow finds a joint in his armor as he cuts through another group, he stumbles, stabbing his blade into the ground to regain balance, a soldier stabs him in the side with a pike. A shadow falls upon him, and arrows thud down around him as magic explodes. He flies through the air, his hand grasping the hilt of his great sword. With a grunt, he slams into the ground, his left leg broken. He stands, grunting.
"You scum! You dare to invade Del-Tolauis, I'll have your heads!" He roars and charges forward, his leg an afterthought. As the Del-Tolauis army flees, a soldier looks back in time to see spears thrown into the air; they thud into the soldiers fleeing. The knight remains standing on the battlefield surrounded, his blade held in front of him while his tower shield lies cracked, discarded on the ground. The commander of the invaders comes forward. " Knight Fidelis Aethelgard, do you truly think you can fight my army all by yourself? I have heard tales of your exploits, such as vanquishing the White Death of the Nostros mountain range, but even you will be hard-pressed to defeat my army that stands 100,000 strong." The commander stares at Fidelis as though contemplating a thought. His crown on his head shone in the noon sun as the forest around the battlefield seemed to dim with an aura of death. The water in the large pond near the middle of the battlefield began to move, and the wind took on a numbing chill.
"Fidelis, join me; your abilities would serve the Parshin Imperium better than if you fall in this battle." The commander offers his hand, Fidelis stands as though he had become a statue, "Prince Ruxin, I swore my oath to the Del-Tolauis Kingdom. I must decline your invitation." With that, Fidelis swings his greatsword at the Prince's hand, severing it at the wrist.
A blood-curdling scream of agony rips from the prince's throat. He falls to his knees and clutches his bloody stump to his chest, "KILL HIM!!!" The prince screams as his aides drag him away from the men who had surrounded him to protect their commander. The archers fire volley after volley while the soldiers charge forward to claim the life of the one who had dared to harm Prince Ruxin, Fidelis swings his claymore, slicing through the platemail of those around him. The air becomes thick with cries, the scent of iron heavy in the air. Metal clangs against metal as arrows blanket the sky, spears hurl through the air, most finding Fidelis as he swings his claymore with unnerving calmness. A faint scent of the sea surrounds him, and the grass seems to tangle his enemies' feet as he wades forward.
Blood flows from his wounds as he swings his blade, his armor creaking and groaning from the abuse it had faced till it finally shatters. A bolt from a balista sails through the air and pierces Fidelis, his armor falling shattered to the ground. "I won't let you escape… I must… pro.. Protect Del-Tolauis…!" Fidelis wheezes as he moves his left foot forward, dragging himself along the bolt's shaft. The Chaotic Foliage and the water calms as Fidelis takes one last staggering step, the ballista bolt now free from his torso, the hole in his abdomen gushing blood. He drops to his knees, eyes glazed over.