The Dark Cloud of Gangmore
Chapter I – Beginning of a Legacy
General Gilliad, was the great and honorable general who resided from the small town of Sandris in the region of Crador. He was known as The White Knight because he wore shining silvery white armor when he rode into battle. Even his stallion was outfitted with the same shining silvery white armor. They called his horse Dawn for his hair was so white it almost shined like the armor he bore. General Giliad had been a soldier for about five years before he became one of the Knights of Sandris. After countless battles fought as a cavalry knight with the Knights of Sandris, he was promoted to general by Lord Bodo who was impressed with his performance in battle. It was then that he set out towards the town of Redenhold.
* * *
General Gilliad walked into the stable to get his horse, for he was ready to set out. He had already put on his shining silvery white armor. He walked up to his white stallion.
“Hey Dawn, how are you my friend?” General Gilliad asked as he stroked the back of Dawn’s neck. He neighed with pleasure as General Gilliad stroked his mane. General Gilliad grabbed the horse armor that was on the shelf for Dawn. He placed the body armor over Dawn’s back gently while rubbing the back of his neck to keep him calm and from being surprised by the armor that was now on his back. Next he placed the helm on Dawn’s nose, who backed up in uneasiness.
“Shhhh, calm down Dawn, it’s just to protect that beautiful nose of yours.” Immediately Dawn was soothed and was comforted. Next General Gilliad grabbed his lance off the shelf it was hanging on. His lance was about eight feet long and silver, with a shield-like guard above the hilt to provide the user with some sort of protection. The blade of the lance was one large sharp blade with two smaller blades branching off of it. The blades shinned with a shine as bright as the sun still even after it had seen the blood of countless battles. Now the blades thirsted for blood. General Gilliad held the lance in his hands.
“Ahhh my friend, you have not seen the light of battle for quiet some time now. I think now is the time to feed your thirst. You shall be fed and fed well, fed with the blood of my nemesis.” General Gilliad then mounted Dawn and slowly rode out of the stable. As he rode down the road with the wind whipping in his face, he looked around at the green pastures he passed along the way. Crandor was a very luscious country, full of green grass and pastures. It was a very peaceful country; the townsfolk never rebelled against Lord Bodo, for he was a fair and just king. All was happy and peaceful in the land of Crandor…that was until the appearance of the Black Knight. General Gilliad approached the town of Rendenhold. As he trotted into town he quickly looked around for the knight’s academy. He found it tucked away in a small corner behind the tavern next to the weapon smith.
“Hmm, well that’s convenient. Have the steel next to the books.” Gilliad dismounted Dawn and tied him up while he went into the academy. He approached the master and bowed in respect.
“Sire, I am looking for Roblad.” General Gilliad asked.
“Ahh, General Gilliad it is an honor. Follow me great White Knight.”
The Master led General Gilliad to the practice arena where Roblad was sparing a fellow pupil.
“Please observe General Gilliad.” The Master asked of General Gilliad. General Gilliad watched, very impressed by Roblad’s technique with a sword. Roblad’s enemy took a swing and Roblad simply rolled out of the way and knocked the sword out of his hands. General Gilliad clapped his hands.
“Very good young lad, but how are you on horseback?”
“Sir Gilliad, The White Knight!” Roblad said as he bowed down to General Gilliad. “It is an honor.”
“Roblad hold your tongue! Have you finished your training?”
“Yes sir, I have.” Roblad answered
“Get up lad, your coming with me.”
“What?!” shouted Roblad standing straight up.
“Did I stutter? I said you are coming with me young lad. I need the best soldiers and you have proven yourself worthy.”
“Yes sir!” Roblad said as he jumped off the arena stage.
“Very well young lad, get on your knee.” Roblad kneeled in front of General Gilliad who took a sword from the Master. As he dubbed Roblad he said, “I knight you Sir Roblad, slayer of beetles.”
“Slayer of beetles?! That’s such a gay name.”
“Is it not fitting lad? You did kill beetles the whole time u were at the academy, so they wouldn’t attack you in your dorm and the first “beast” you killed.” Sir Roblad dared not say a word.
“Do you not trust me? I’m a fearful knight!”
Laughing General Gilliad said, “You mean fearless young lad. And besides you’re not as fearless as I.”
“Of course not sir,” Roblad said as he bowed to General Gilliad “You are the most fearless knight of Gangmore.”
“They don’t call me the Great White Knight of Sandris for nothing.”
“Roblad,” said the Master as Roblad turned to him hearing the Master’s voice, “go into the stable and take Thunder with you.”
“But Master! Thunder is the best horse that…”
“Silence!” the Master yelled cutting off Roblad. “I said take Thunder, that’s an order.”
“Yes sir.” Roblad went into the stable and walked all the way to the back. There he found the coveted Thunder, a beautiful beige thoroughbred with the speed of lightning. Roblad put the required armor on Thunder and mounted her. He rode out into the arena area where General Gilliad and the Master where waiting. General Gilliad walked Roblad outside and untied Dawn. Gilliad mounted Dawn and turned to Roblad.
“Now let us ride. Yah!” General Gilliad and Sir Roblad rode into the sunset.
* * *
Sir Tironfir walked into his quarters. Sir Tironfir had been a soldier under the command of Lord Drakemore for at least fifteen years. When he himself slayed the great General Loro, Lord Drakemore immediately promoted him to one of his generals. Now he wore heavy armor that was stained red by the blood of many enemies through his campaign of countless battles. You couldn’t even recognize the familiar steel armor of Sir Tironfir due to the abundance of blood, but Sir Tironfir never dared to clean his armor for he saw the blood as a symbol of power and honor. Now he walked down the stairs and into the throne room to face his lord.
“Lord Drakemore, you summoned me.”
“Yes I did Sir Tironfir. What is the status on our friend General Gilliad?” Lord Drakemore inquired. Lord Drakemore was a man with a very dark air that surrounded him. Always dressing in black armor and with a dark cape, he proved a very intimidating foe on the field of battle. Strong and strong-willed, Lord Drakemore, king of Deadron, never gaves up until the battle was through. For years he studied government seeing as his father, King Drake provided him schooling, he dreamed of becoming emperor of Deadron. When he reached age twenty, he killed his father by turning the army against him who his father had given him control of. He then became the heir to the throne for nobody dared to oppose him, in fear of their lives. Now he sat on the throne of Deadron in Castle Nargadtri, giving orders.
“Sire, our scout patrols have not been able to locate him.”
Lord Drakemore slammed the arm of his throne while saying, “Imbeciles!”
“Sire they are still loyal to your throne...”
“Royal imbeciles!” shouted Lord Drakemore in a rage. Sir Tironfir cringed after he was shut down by Lord Drakemore.
“Sire, what are your orders?”
“Orders?! Ha! Bring forth Priest Hangrador.”
“Sire?!” yelled Sir Tironfir in confusion but Lord Drakemore just sat on his throne laughing maniacally.
“Sire, you certainly have gone mad! You know that foul beast is not suitable for an act of war sire!”
“SILENCE! You dare question me, your Lord!?” Lord Drakemore bellowed. Sir Tironfir looked down in shame.
“No sire.”
“Good! Then fetch that foul wretch. I declare his insanity to be highly respectable amongst those of the great kings. He shall smite all who stand against my name and who stand before him.”
“Yes, as you wish, sire.” Sir Tironfir said as he left the throne room and went back into the depths of the castle to fetch Priest Hangrador.
“A man that is born into darkness, evil shall become. A man born into nobility, a king shall be crowned. A man born into evil nobility, a wretch shall he be made for evil and darkness will consume him. That is which is so of Priest Hangrador, he shall make me proud, through his evil aura that those who face him shall fear. This black cloud that enthrones him shall drive him home from the battle; it shall not let him fall to the blade.” Just as Lord Drakemore finished his speech to himself, Sir Tironfir entered into the throne room with Priest Hangrador. Priest Hangrador, an old man, was dressed in a dark black hooded robe. As a child Priest Hangrador bullied the kids in his town. As he got older he tortured the children of the town. When he was old enough he joined the necromancer’s guild to learn the basics of the dark arts. He was disowned by his parents and excommunicated by the Church of Radnor. He had his parents killed and killed Father Cron and took over the church, which became the Dark Chapel of Radnor due to Priest Hangrador being a master of the dark arts. Eventually the authorities threw him into jail in a single cell by himself with no contact to the outside world. He used his newly gained powers to break himself out of prison and killed twelve officers and twenty civilians in the process. After it is said he went through the streets killing women and children in the middle of the streets. Now his evil twisted soul stood in front of the great Lord Drakemore.
“Sire, I have been enlightened that you enlist my services. Be forewarned that you shall not be let down; your choice will not be in vain.”
“Priest Hangrador, you have never failed me yet, do not let this be the first.”
“Sire, I have heard stories of General Gilliad and his brutality, but do not fear. I shall not falter; I shall smite that wretch of a warrior who they call a general. He is not fit to be entitled to that power.” Lord Drakemore smiled an evil smile as he said “Priest Hangrador, I am impressed with the passion you have shown. Do not shame me, Priest, do not shame me.”
“Yes sire,” Priest Hangrador bowed to Lord Drakemore. “Sire, your bidding is safe with me.”
“Now go! Bring me General Gilliad’s head!” Just as Lord Drakemore said this, Priest Hangrador stood up in front of him.
“With pleasure, sire.” After saying this, Priest Hangrador left accompanied by Sir Tironfir.
* * *
General Gilliad and Sir Roblad rode through a dark forest. The trees were very dull and uninviting and it seemed as if the whole forest groaned. General Gilliad looked around with an uneasiness that would unnerve even the most seasoned of warriors. Squire Francoise rode up to General Gilliad’s side and General Gilliad looking very alarmed.
“What is it Squire Francoise?”
“Sir, I have spotted a convoy rapidly enclosing on our position. What are your orders?”
“What type of armor?”
“What?! Uh…dark shinning armor.”
“Christ! Lord Drakemore, have you sent your minions upon me, what folly.” General Gilliad paused, “Come nemesis, let us cross blades.” General Gilliad turned around and faced the way which Squire Francoise came from.
“Come my men, let us ride forth into battle!” General Gilliad took off galloping at full tilt. Sir Roblad and Squire Francoise followed.
