The grip of the Aerdi on the north was shattered in 569CY when humanoids overran the lands of the Bone March and it's Marquis, Clement, disappeared. The hardy Oerids who had settled in that land and the remnants of the Fruztii who originally dwelt there were beset by monstrous hordes of rampaging orcs, and many fell to these savage hordes. A few held out...and sometimes...they wished they hadn't for their "saviours" turned out to be more barbaric than the humanoids...
Knights of Hextor
by Richard Di Ioia (email@example.com)
Used With Permission. Used with Permission. Do not repost without obtaining prior permission from the author.
The peasants of this remote village on the border of the Bone March were scared. The villagers had constructed a wooden palisade around their village quite a few years ago and have been able to repulse the few orcish raids against their village. But this was no raiding party. Over 200 orcs stood ready to swarm up the hill and burn the village to the ground, killing all those residing inside.
It was late afternoon and once the sun dropped the villagers knew the orcs would attack. Their only hope was that the messenger they sent south was able to find some help. And help he did find.
Riding hard from the south was a troop of knights, armored in plate mail from head to foot, their horses equally well armored. Behind them, riding two per horse, were numerous men-at-arms in leather armor. With lances high and prayers loudly sung to their god, the priestly warriors charged into the orcish horde. Their men-at-arms dismounted and followed behind, killing any orcs spared the initial charge. No mercy did they ask, and no mercy did they grant. Those orcs that tried to flee were cut down by the heavy blades or trampled under the hooves of the heavy horses the knights rode. Once the massacre was complete, the knights rode towards the village.
The villagers opened the gate wide and let in their saviors. The leader of the villagers approached the Captain of the Knights and offered his thanks.
"Good sir knight, my people and I thank you for this rescue. Your valor has saved all our lives. I am Dlen, may I know you name?"
"My name is Sir Pothanc and I thank you for your praise. Is there some place my knights and I may refresh ourselves?"
"Of course, please come with me. Would you like me to send out food and water to your troops setting up camp outside?"
"No, that will not be needed. They can fend for themselves. They are not knights after all."
During the meal that evening Sir Pothanc noticed that one of the peasant girls serving him and his men their meals was quite attractive. After the meal he approached Dlen.
"It is time I returned to my tent, good man Dlen. I will be taking that serving wench with me."
"Oh good Sir Pothanc, that will not be possible. That girl is already betrothed to another."
At this news Sir Pothanc leaned over and whispered in Dlen ears. "That doesn't matter to me and my men. We will have any women we want in this pathetic village tonight. Do you understand?" As this was said, Sir Pothanc's cloak opened slightly and his holy symbol hung loosely about his neck. As Dlen looked down and saw the figure of the war god Hextor, he shuddered and thought to himself that they should have taken their chances with the orcs...
Bone March, Hextor