Knights of Xenos Game: First Role

Player has drawn a Travel, Gold and Encounter Card. 

Playing as 'The Black Knight'

The Caravan drew to a halt. The brass caps of the wooden wheels, gave a screech as the horses refused to proceed. 'As if this procession wasn't tedious enough' I thought to myself letting go a course sounding sigh through my helmet. I gestured my horse round the caravan to the front and turned towards the drivers.

"Why have we stopped?" I asked, my horse fidgeted as I spoke.

"The road Mi'lord, a tree's fallen" One answered cowering at my sudden and aggressive approach. I had already seen the tree, but my ignorance showed my lack of concern, as I answered them with a silent gaze. My helmet covered my eyes, but they could feel the intimidating glare motivating them too move. They stumbled out of their seats and proceed round the caravan. They both returned with single edged axes to cut the tree. I remained silent, observing them from my horse as they cut the tree into sizeable logs to carry away. I endured their useless banter, whilst they attempted to remove the obstacle.
"Urry up with your side!"
"My side's thicker than yeurs!" Their accent told me they were from the Suderlands. They would have to learn things in the North weren't as cosy as the South.

It took them a while to remove the tree. During the task, the two men shot me troubled glances, they expected my help. True, a swing of my greatsword could have severed the log in two. But to be seen performing the peons labour would degrade me. I had earned my position and along with it, the privilege to refuse such tasks. These men would see their thatched roofs burn above their sleeping heads if it wasn’t for what I had helped quell up here in the North.

The caravan proceeded along the dirt path, obscured by the lush green conifers either side, the North has known less peaceful days. Amongst the trudging of horse shoes and the rattling of the caravan, voices were heard. Loud, clambering voices followed by loud hushing. The drivers seemed unaware, as we continued round the path. I saw through the trees, as we continued round a bend, shapes of men proceeding back and forward between the road and a cavern in the cliff face. As we rounded the bend the men noticed the caravan. They wore poor crafted leathers, with daggers and axes hung from their belts. At the mouth of the cave, lay brown grain sacks, which the men had been carrying between the cave and a horse drawn wagon. The men stopped in their tracks and stared, as did we. In a sudden flash, five men dropped their duties and drew their weapons and headed our way.

“Whatta we do Mi’lord, we can’t fight?” said a driver, still staring at the bandits.

I dismounted and handed him my reins.

“Just don’t let them touch my horse. It’s Lanetian” I said, chuckling at my own humour. The driver took the reins and just stared, open mouthed.

I unsheathed my blade from my back and slowly trudged towards the bandits still running. The first swung his axe at my chest. I rose to parry and with the vigour, the simple head of his splintered from the shaft. The bandit stood in awe and stared between the wooden handle and me. I swung my sword round and impaled him. He released a final gasp as he hung balanced around my blade. The other bandits stopped and stood in awe, their faces turned pale. They rapidly spun and splintered into the forest, leaving behind the bags and their wagon. I lowered my blade and kicked the corpse off. I bent down and ripped off a part of his shirt that had remained un-bloodied and clean my blade before re-sheathing it on my back.

“That was amazen’ Mi’lord. I still can’t believe me eyes” One of the drivers said, as they both continued to recount moments of the kill to each other.

I strolled towards the wagon and observed the sacks. I unsheathed a small dagger at my belt and pierced the bag. Expecting the gushing of grain to fill the cart, instead a loud metallic cling, rang from the bag. As I withdrew the dagger, small golden coins, fell and spun from the bag between the gaps of the wooden planked cart.

“What is it Mi’lord?” I heard one of the drivers call from the wagon. I strolled back and took my reins, then mounting my horse.
“Collect the bags and load them in to the caravan. This job finally became worth my time”