•Defiant•: Greenskin Scourge

The Priestess and the Knight

He walked through the forests, Halberd resting on his shoulder as he trundled forward. Armor clinking and shining in the sun and deep ragged breaths accompanied the man.

It has been days since he deserted from the Army, no longer wishing to fight again. A knight he used to be. Common Knight he was called, now it would forever be the Deserter Knight.

Suddenly the man started whistling a tune. It was a common tune men used to sing when marching to battle, and mothers to their children during times of war. He whistled the lyrics sadly, remembering the times he sung with his old comrades.

'Hush little child, your father shall be away, off to war he marches, to keep us safe.'

'Against the enemy he fights, valiant men by his side. The great army marches, breaking the soil with their mighty stride.'

'A battle arrives, and many die. Now pray little child. . . That your father may survive.'

The man sighs before stopping to take a rest. Setting down his halberd near a tree and sitting down on a fallen log.

He watched as ants crawled torwards a dead bird nearby. Eyes eaten out and intestines splattered all over for the ants to bring back to the hive.

'Lady Death leaves her mark. . . Why does she follow me everywhere. . .'

The man sighs again before closing his eyes, hoping to get some rest.

---

You deserted us. . .

You left us to die. . .

Why did you do this. . .

Was it worth it? Leaving your comrades to fight while you cower away. . .

What's wrong, lost your taste for blood?

Answer us coward. . .

Answer us. . .

The man felt cold hands wrap around his neck, more grabbing onto his limbs as they dragged him deeper, voices either screaming in agony or cackling madly.

Please no. . .

What's wrong coward?

Scared?

What do have here, a craven, a sad little craven. . .

Does he needs to suckle on his dead mother's breasts to calm himself?

Dawwww, does the cowardly bastard need some help?

You will die a horrid death

He felt the hands around his neck tighten, he flailed around trying to break free but it was useless. And so he suffered in his dreams.

---

The man woke up, drenched in sweat, armor splattered with grass and dirt as he rolled around in his sleep.

He sighs, feeling tears start to form around his eyes. The thoughts of his dead comrades and friends fresh in his mind, the way they died horribly. . .

A cold wind blew, making him slightly shiver as he was covered in sweat. He heard a small noise. Was that a screa-

"H-E-L-P. . . !", A scream was heard from afar, coming from the north. The man stood up and grabbed his Halberd before rushing torwards the source of the sound.

He panted as he made it at the entrance of a cave, a strange totem guarding it. . . 'Goblins. . . Thrice damned goblins. . .'

He rushed into the cave, drawing his dirk instead of his Halberd, it would not do to have his attacks limited or stopped by the small cave walls.