Knights and Monsters

A very short story now, the shortest one I ever wrote. Set way back in time. I'll probably post the sort-of sequel tomorrow.

Knights and Monsters

The knight drove into the horde of orcs, his powerful warhorse scattering many of the crooked-legged craven creatures. His lance, keen and true, smote one of them dead. As he continued his charge, he skewered another of the foul scum on it. Another knight, as bold as the first crashed into the orcs, taking more of their number to the ground.

The knights of Weissland were great warriors, and even though there were only two of them they were more than a match for the green-skinned orcs before them. They rode through the press, and when the lances were beyond use, they swept out their swords, bright shining metal blades. Each knight cut and cleaved and slashed orc after orc. Some howled in pain as they bled from chest, gut or limb. Others died instantly from slashed throats and severed heads.

The first knight galloped hard and finally he was through the orcs and beyond. His brother was with him, the orcs were routed. They checked their steeds and readied themselves, raising their swords and tightening their grips on their shields. Then the knights bellowed a war cry and thundered towards their new foe, a vile necromancer.

As they charged, the hooves of their horses clattering on the gravel, the evil necromancer began to chant his horrible dark arts. On the knights came, upright and sure, and the necromancer started to weave his black magic. The necromancer raised his arms, as baleful green and purple light played about him, then started throwing bolts of necromantic energy at the knights. The magic bounced off the shields and armour of the knights harmlessly, such was their courage and pureness the evil spells could not hurt them.

Too late the necromancer realised his nasty magics were in vain. The two proud warriors knocked him to his knees, circling the man with their horses. As he stood, the knights ran the vile necromancer through. But when their work was finished, they saw ahead of them the vast army approaching, full of orcs and demons and gargoyles. Amongst the hordes were vampires and ghouls and undead dragons flew above, hundreds of them, and all were led by the dark lord Drathmor himself. The first knight looked across the army. Beyond sat the castle where they would need to rescue the fair maidens, or so his older brother told him.

The first knight said “Are you ready brother?”

“Born ready, little brother, born ready.” The second knight replied with a cheeky laugh.

They steadied themselves, and then began the charge. Just as they did so they heard a voice calling out to them happily “Arthan, Nathaniel! It is almost dinner time, come inside and wash up, boys.”

The first knight stopped. Nathaniel sighed, lifted the crude visor of his cobbled together helmet, lowered his wooden sword and looked over his shoulder. He called back disappointedly “Awww mother, we weren’t finished fighting the dark lord.” The two young brothers ran up to the estate doors and inside, the game would be finished another day.