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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Satori" data-source="post: 4012721" data-attributes="member: 37233">The party paladin slowly approaches on his celestial warhorse.  Nearly a hundred paces away, mounted on a steed with reptilian eyes and claws instead of hooves, sits the man responsible for all the party's pain, suffering, and loss.  His armor seems to soak up the light, his helm fully obscures his face in a hellish display of fell origins.  A twisted, gnarled lance of the purest black metal rests easily in his hand while a shield in the shape of a screaming skull adorns the other side.Having ridden for days unknown, battled through horrors best unspoken, and rested in Helm knows how long, the knight takes a few breaths to steady his ragged nerves.  Fear, that emotion thought long conquered, begins to clutch at his stomach.  A tremble, barely seen but surely felt, courses through his gauntleted hand.  The hellish steed exhaling a puff of greenish vapor, the fiendish horseman lowers his weapon slowly...and for a split second, a horrid grin appears to spread across the abyssal helm.  Removing his gauntlet, the paladin reaches out and lovingly runs a hand across the blood matted mane of his friend, companion, and mount.  "Just one more ride.  That's all.  Just one more ride."  With gritted teeth and a muttered prayer, the knight spurs the tired, wounded warhorse into action.With a reptilian shriek, the hellish steed of the black knight matches the paladin's mount hoof for claw.  Silence fills the air...only to be shattered by the deafening pound of feet on turf.  Lances lowered, armor glinting, breathing ragged, the two armored combatants hurtle towards each other. Time seems to slow once the combatants are nearly within striking range.  Visions of the paladin's youth flash through his mind.  Summers harvesting wheat, winters sitting by the fire, and evenings at supper with his family.  His eyes moisten slightly as he recalls that day...that fateful day...that awful day.  The fires...the screams...the blood......the black knight.  Inches away.  Steel against steel.  Will against will.Faith against faith.His breath is ragged, but his eyes are open.  His stomach trembles, but his hands are steady.  His mind is distraught, but his heart is focused.His weapons are damaged......but his aim is sure.Where once time seemed stopped, the world now exploded into a stream of shrieking steel, pounding feet, and clashing lances.  Pain blurred the paladin's vision, and the chaos of the collision jarred his awareness.He blinked away the pain, took a deep breath, and looked around.  His lance, the rusted piece of steel that served him well since he was a squire, lay neatly embedded in the black knights torso, having penetrated straight through the screaming skull's mouth.  The force of impact ripped the lance from the paladin's grasp while sending the black knight sailing from his mount, only to land in a heap of lifelessness several yards away.Yet, just as the paladin was about to let loose a roar of victory, he belatedly realized that he sat on the ground, and not on his mount.Panic gripped his chest, and a quick glance behind him showed that the black knight's own weapon had aimed for his friend's heart, and not his own.With a pain racked sob, the paladin laid over his friend's quickly declining heart beat.The question that burned in his mind was......"Who had truly won?"</blockquote>

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