Xavier took off his helmet and glared at the dark forest. Wiping the sweat at the roots of his wavy brown hair that set ablaze the hearts of all the maiden he met, he decided that it was time to charge into the unseen enemy. He sat on his horse and went back to his men.
"Be ready, boys," he said. "We're in unknown territory, and those stinking beastmen are sneaky. And we don't even know how many they are." Turning to his general, he added: "I think we can get through, my Count. Let's hurry up. It's almost noon."

The Count Robert nodded absently, his sapphire-blue eyes staring the Forest of Arden ahead. The general of the Red Crusade was a tall and slim half-Elf of about twenty-five years old with gleaming snow-white hair and Elven traits. He wore a shining white armor and a cape of the same color. His horse, a young stallion, was white too. The Bretonnian knight had a powerful claymore and a large shield. He was the leader of the nomadic army that had left its homeland a month ago, after the forces of Chaos had laid waste on the beautiful land that was once the Valley of Blancastel.

During the invasion called Storm of Chaos, led by Archaon, an army of warriors of Chaos and daemons of Khorne had attacked the Count's land. The leader of the host, Lord Skardrek, had offered Robert a choice: if he chose to surrender, his people would be spared. When the Bretonnian paladin refused, the servant of the blood-thirsty god crushed the knights of the Valley of Blancastel before slaughtering its inhabitants and burning the villages. Having failed to protect his people, the Count decided to seek the Grail and fight evil wherever it lurked to have his honor back. He took with him the survivors of the massacre and began his quest for revenge. The Red Crusade was already feared by Chaos.

A week ago, the host of the Count had finally overtook Skardrek's army that was retreating to the Chaos Wastes after Archaon had declared the Storm of Chaos over. The knights attacked their camp at night. They fought for a few minutes in pitch dark, and when the red sun rose, they realized that they had slain all the Chaos warriors. But Lord Skardrek's corpse was nowhere. All that was found of him was a trail of stinking black blood that stopped after a mile. But the Count vowed to find his enemy one day and settle the score with him.

Now, the knights were waiting their general's order to attack the Forest of Arden. They had to cleanse this zone from the beastmen before noon. The Fay Enchantress, the Lady of the Lake's emissary, had given them a rendezvous in the woods and had asked them to clear the place so they could discuss in peace. The Fay was leading Robert in his quest for the sacred chalice called the Grail. She came often in his dreams, and last night she had told him to meet her at noon near the spring. The Count always obeyed to her without asking questions, for she was the voice of the goddess of Bretonnia, but he was a little irritated by this delay: it gave Skardrek more time to get away to the Chaos Wastes.
He glanced at his red-clad knights, then at the Baron Xavier, his young standard bearer. He finally said: "Let's go, boys. At the enemy."

The knights lowered their lances and charged through the dark forest. As the scouts had said, the trees were alive with beastmen. The foul creatures fell upon the knights, but a dozen of them were thrown down almost instantly. The battle was brief but bloody. Xavier slew seven Gors within a half minute while three knights brought a troll to the ground easily. One of the men of the Red Crusade fought against two centigors at a time and managed to remove their heads with a single swipe of his longsword.

Charging at the lead of his men, the Count Robert ran immediately to the chief of the enemy warband, a huge battle-scarred Doombull with two gigantic axes. The young noble cut off his opponent's left arm, but wasn't fast enough to avoid the counter-attack: a powerful swing of an axe right in his ribs. He fell off his horse, but got up on his feet and stroke his enemy in the face with his sword in one flowing movement. He blocked a blow with his shield, then cleaved the Doombull's head in two. Bits of brains and liters of black blood splattered the trees.

Within a minute, the knights were victorious and the remaining beastmen were fleeing in the darkness of the Forest of Arden. The Red Crusade had not suffered a single casualty. Robert retrieved his frightened horse, who was wandering away, and looked at the sun over the trees. It was noon. He turned to face his blood-covered men and said:
"The Fay will come soon. She said in my dreams that she wanted to see me alone. Wait for me in the camp. I'll join you soon."

The knights departed. They never doubted the Count's words when he spoke about the strange dreams he was having since he had decided to seek the Grail. Then Robert was alone, looking for the rendezvous point with his goddess's emissary. The spring. The young warrior found it. It was a pure-looking cascade falling in a little but deep natural pool. He waited for a moment, not knowing where to go. When the noise of his knights talking and walking faded into nothingness, Robert felt a presence. He looked on the other side of the little pond and saw the Fay Enchantress.

The Fay was a very beautiful woman who looked about thirty years old, but was in fact as old as Bretonnia itself. She was a Wood Elf of Athel Loren. She was fair-haired and had strange, penetrating blue eyes that seemed to read right through the soul of Robert. She wore silvery robes and had golden jewels on her. She smiled and said:
"Thank you for coming here, my child. I've heard you need advice."
"I've never asked advice," the Count said, surprised.
"I know. But Someone more powerful than me knows that you DO need advice."

Robert sighed.
"What is it about exactly? Is the Lady pleased with my war against Chaos?"
"Oh, yes. But She thinks you've still got a lot to learn. Stop chasing Skardrek. He has gotten away. He's currently out of Bretonnia, on his way to the Chaos Wastes. You won't catch up with him."
"But he was badly wounded," Robert objected. "And I had blinded him during the battle for Blancastel. How could he be already so far away?"
"He's more powerful than you think. He's almost immortal. Even if you caught him, he could kill you easily. You're not ready yet. You must continue to purge Bretonnia from Chaos. When you'll be ready, you'll be free to go fight him again."
"When will I know that I am ready?" Robert asked.
"You will know it when you will be," the Fay answered with a mysterious smile.

The Count was more than annoyed by the way the Fay Enchantress always spoke by riddles.
"What does the Lady want me to do right now?" the knight asked.
"Continue your quest. Fight evil wherever you find it. When you will be ready, it will be time to get your revenge. But I won't always be there to help you. I have a lot to do. I'll give you a guide."
"Who?"
"Her name is Caroline. The Lady Caroline. She's a young mage. I trained her myself to the arts of magic. You'll have to get to her. She has been captured by the Orcs not long ago. You will have to free her."
"Is it some kind of test?" Robert asked, looking in the bottom of the pool.
"Yes. To find her, follow the white falcon."
"What are you talking about?" the questing knight asked.
But when he looked up, the Fay was gone.








This was the first part of the second chapter of The White Knight, an epic tale of Bretonnia. It's in fact the history of my Warhammer army, the Red Crusade. You can read the first part, The Fall of Blancastel, or my 2000-pts army list.


Here's the entire trilogy:

THE WHITE KNIGHT:
1. The Fall of Blancastel
2. The Fortress of Doom
3. The Cursed City


If you have comments, questions or suggestions, let me know.

im still reading and it sounds pretty sweet , so yeah keep goin! :thumb:

The Pale Sisters, high mountains to the north of Gisoreux, were well known to be covered with thousands of foul Greenskins. For this reason, a fort had been built a thousand years ago on a rocky hill to stop the invasions. No more than a month after its construction, the fortress had been captured by the Orcs, from where they now launched a dozen raids a year against the little villages of the surrounding plains. Its walls had darkened over the years and its towers had been decorated with skulls. The grim castle was now called the Fortress of Doom. The setting sun gave it a look even more sinister than usual. The Count Robert, protected by the cover of the woods, was preparing himself for the most dangerous thing he had ever attempted. Except maybe challenging Lord Skardrek.

It was yesterday that the Fay Enchantress had told Robert that he had to free the Lady Caroline from the Orcs. Then the young knight had had a dream about a white falcon guiding him to the north. Since the morning, he had ridden hard in the direction of the Pale Sisters, letting the Red Crusade at the city of Gisoreux. Now he was going to assault the fortress alone. Even though he was a Bretonnian knight, he had chosen to sneak instead of charging blindly in a clash of steel. If he were to be honorable this night, he would get slain easily. He didn't have one plan in particular, but he hadn't time to plot one.

When it was dark enough, he let his white stallion in the pine forest and silently crept on the rocky ground of the mountains. Although Robert didn't know it, the Orcs weren't cautious this night: they had looted ale in a raid against dwarves and most of them were completely drunk. Truly, the Lady was with the Count. When the questing knight reached the entrance, he saw a Black Orc snoring on the ground, dark brown beer spilled around him. Robert woke him up, then slew him with his claymore: a Bretonnian didn't kill a sleeping enemy. The paladin entered the fort. In the corridors, most Orcs were sleeping and a few of them had been badly wounded in some brawl.

Robert guessed that the holding cells were probably down in the vaults. As he turned a corner, he suddenly faced six sober-looking Orcs led by a scarred half-Troll with gigantic teeth and huge bloodshot eyes.
"What have we here, boys!" he shouted, laughing. "An 'umie! Let's have fun!"
"If it is your wish to block the path of a true knight of Bretonnia," Robert said coolly as his blue eyes darkened with anger, "prepare yourself to die. For I am the White Knight, and I shall slay all those who stand in my way. Leave now and come in my life no more, if you do not want to be rid of your foul life!"
The half-Troll roared with laughter.
"We gonna crush yer damn skull 'gainst the wall, lad!" he said with all his Orcish refinement. "Ain't we, boyz? Ye're goin' to cry fer yer mummy, stinkin' umie!"

Robert drew his sword like lightning, and the Orcs stopped laughing. They all took out what they called "Choppas" and their smile widened as they hungered for a good fight. Swinging his claymore with the speed of the wind, the knight had the time to remove three heads before his enemies had the time to realize that their opponent was going to be a tough one. Roaring battle cries, they all attacked the paladin at once. Robert had to dodge four blows and to block two more before he had time to counter-attack. Then he cleaved another Orc all the way down from the top of his head to… what was about a meter under it, and ducked to avoid an attack from the half-Troll's war axe. The Count opened an Orc's belly, spilling entrails on the cold stone floor, then finished the Greenskin off with a powerful horizontal swing in the foul beast's ribs.

Then the big half-Troll captain was alone against the blood-covered knight. Mad with anger, the creature charged toward Robert, its axe swinging wildly at an impressive speed. The Bretonnian had trouble blocking such powerful blows, and soon his right arm was tired. Then, unexpectedly, an accurate and mighty hit of the axe disarmed the knight. The sword fell on the ground with a loud noise. The half-Troll dropped his weapon and, laughing, threw himself toward Robert to snap his neck. Fortunately, the paladin was a good close combat fighter and managed to avoid most blows of his enemy's powerful fists. He managed to reach his knife and ripped the flesh of the Greenskin's right arm. Mad with anger and pain, the half-Troll turned to take back his axe. It was a mistake: Robert had the time to slash him with his knife in the ribs and to take back his claymore. His enemy had just enough time to face him before he got the twisting thrust of the Count's sword right in his heart.

Panting, the knight took a quick look at the slaughtered Greenskins around him, then put his bloody blade back in its scabbard. He noticed stairs at the end of the corridor and walked toward them. They led very far down the castle. The Count went down them, passed silently near a sleeping Goblin and finally found himself in a dark passage lit by a few torches. There were a few cells all around. Robert took a glare in each of them. In most, the prisoners (mostly Greenskins of rival tribes, Skaven and a few Dwarves) were dead. There was someone alive in the last one, though. A woman, from what the knight could see in the darkness.

The Count took one of the torches from the walls and walked toward the young woman. She jumped on her feet when she saw the warrior coming near the door and destroying the rusty bolt with his sword. The first thing Robert noticed what that she was delightfully beautiful. She was slightly younger than he and quite tall for a woman. She had very long raven-black hair, pale skin and penetrating emerald-green eyes that sparked with intelligence. Her face was exquisite and her lips were full. She looked at the Count straight in the face.

"Are you Robert?" she asked, her voice soft and pleasant.
"I see the Fay has told you about you," the knight said. "I've come to rescue you."
The young woman had a little, silvery laugh.
"You didn't rescue anyone, brave knight," she said with a smile. "I could have gotten away any time I wanted."
"Why didn't you?"
"It was a test. A test of courage."
"The Fay had told me about it. But I thought you were really in danger. I come from Bastonne. My army has left the country when…"
"…Skardrek destroyed it," Lady Caroline said. "I know all about you. The Fay have trained me for ten years, since I was thirteen years old, with the only purpose of being your guide. She said it was my fate to follow you in your quest for the Grail."
"I see. But it's not the place to talk. Let's get out of here."

They left the vaults, thinking it was over. But the Orcs wouldn't let them escape so easily.

The Lady Caroline's equipment was in a crate near the entrance of the vaults, where there were also the weapons and armors of the other prisoners. The young woman put on her pink robe and found her wizard's staff, a silver scepter with a big ruby at the upper end. She also took a beautiful long dagger that had belonged to an Elf.
"Let's go," Robert said. "I don't like this place."

As they reached the top of the stairs, they faced a gang of twenty goblins chuckling stupidly, obviously very drunk. But they had knifes and spears in their hands and a sruel spark in their yellow eyes. The leader, a skinny and vicious-looking Night Goblin with a wide teethless grin and traits as sharp as his dagger, said:
"The lady wanna escape, huh? A mistake, my dear. Y'see, the half-Troll the knight killed, Big Ragbog, never permitted me to rape you. Said y'were too important. Now he's dead, so m'boys n' I 're goin' to have fun…"

The skinny creature paid for his insolence with his life as Robert's sword cleaved it in two at heart height. If Greenskins had a heart at all. Now the goblins looked much less confident. Gathering they courage, they jumped on the knight and the young woman, all knives out. Nine of them were killed within a few seconds by the claymore and the Elven dagger, but their number was still overwhelming. Gathering her magical power, Caroline scorched three goblins with a divine white fire. Four more creatures tried to impale Robert with their spears, but none of them found a hole in the armor of the knight. The young paladin slew the lot of them with only two swings of his blade. The four remaining goblins fled, but one didn't make it to the next corner and was brought down without mercy by a lightning thrown by Caroline.

"They're going to wake up the others," the woman said. "We must be out of here soon. We should run now."
So they ran. They encountered on their way to the exit six goblins and four Orcs, all drunk yet vicious. Robert killed them all without thinking. Soon, the corridor was alive with Greenskins, and a moment later was covered with black blood. They came from all the rooms and doors. The two Bretonnians finally reached the exit, but two Black Orcs were blocking their way. The Count fought in a short but violent duel against one of them, finally cutting of his opponent's right leg, then cleaving the top of his head from one ear to another and sending brains against the walls. The other had his legs completely destroyed by a fire spell from Caroline, before being finished off by a claymore thrust through the throat. Then the knight and the damsel of the Lady ran outside.

The goblins on top of the towers were now operating their spear chukkas and shooting arrows. The two Bretonnians avoided most of them, and a few more were deflected by Caroline's wind spells. Soon they were in the woods, running for their lives. After two minutes, the young woman stopped abruptly and looked back. Her gaze grew distant and piercing, as though she was looking straight through the woods.
"They've sent the wolf riders," she said. "A dozen of them."
Robert swore.
"They're faster than us. Let's wait for them and fight."

The wolf riders weren't long to come. But the Count didn't have to fight this time. The Lady Caroline pronounced a few words in an unknown language and the branches of the trees stroke the goblins mounted on wolves, mercilessly crushing them on the ground. The damsel said something else and hundreds of bees and wasps attacked the panicking Greenskins. Birds joined the massacre, piercing the eyes of the goblins with their beaks. Robert noticed that the wolves themsleves weren't attacked by Caroline's spells. Then the lady said a few last words, and the mounts turned against their riders and ripped their flesh with their fangs. The goblins tried to flee, but they didn't go far: a pure-white falcon, identical to the one of Robert's dream, assaulted the little Greenskins. The bird of prey ripped a goblin's throat with its beak, sliced open another's belly with his claws and, at the knight's astonishment, lifted the last remaining creature over fifty feet in the sky before letting it fall on a rock. There was a sinister crushing sound, and the small beast stopped moving. The battle had lasted less than one minute.

The falcon landed softly on Caroline's arm. The lady, smiling, looked at Robert and said:
"This is Simon, the White Falcon. He's our ally. He follows me everywhere."
"He?" the Count asked, still bewildered.
"He was an human once. A brave young knight who died in battle just before he was to find the Holy Grail. The Lady of the Lake was sad that the had to be slain so near of his objective, and she went to him as he was dying. She made her drink in the Grail, and the warrior died of his wounds shortly after that. But his soul came back under the form of a falcon."

The White Falcon suddenly looked very nervous. His gaze became dangerous. He was looking at the east. Caroline muttered:
"The Boar Boyz. They're coming. Fifteen of them. We MUST go away now. We can't fight that many."
"That's useless," Robert said. "They'll catch up with us. There's a rocky hill to the west. It will be easier to defend. Follow me."
They ran to the hill. As soon as they reached it, they heard the battle cry of an Orc, then the deep, hollow sound of a horn. Lady Caroline raised her staff, preparing to unleash the sky against the Greenskins. The Count Robert drew his sword, which seemed thirsty this night. The falcon was flying above their heads, ready to attack if those foul Orcs riding wild boars came too close to his mistress.

The boar riders came out of the forest very suddenly. One was torn apart by a small yet powerful tornado Caroline had created. Another had his eyes removed by the falcon. But the others were already at sword length of the two humans. And putting yourself at sword length of the Count Robert of Bastonne, known as the White Knight, was a dangerous mistake. Two adversaries were slain by a single blow, and a second later, another had his heart pierced. But the knight knew that even though he was a great fighter, he couldn't confront that many foes on his own. It was a desperate battle, a battle for honor. Caroline knew it too, and unleashed her spells with all her strength. She paralyzed an enemy with her left hand, while her staff was sending pure energy bringing three Orcs down their boar, cursing.

As they thought it was over for them, something flying came out of nowhere and impaled two foes at once. Three Boar Boyz were slain with the same efficiency within five seconds. Robert, covered with blood, looked up. Six Pegasus Knights, powerful warriors mounted on flying horses, were massacring the Greenskins from the sky with their lances. The end of the battle was as bloody as short: the remaining foes fled, but were slain without mercy by the unexpected reinforcements. When the last Orc, the one who had had his eyes taken out by the falcon, was finished off by the sword of the leader of the Pegasus Knights, the flying warriors landed and took out their helmet, grinning at the massacre they had done.

"I am Gordon of Parravon," the leader said to the young warrior after he went down his pegasus. "Champion of the Realm and leader of the Sixth Company of Duke Cassyon. At your service. Are you the Count Robert of Bastonne, brave knight?"
"Yes," the paladin managed to say, still panting. "Were you sent to save me?"
"No. No one sent us. But we have heard of the Red Crusade not long ago. It is said that you have vanquished Lord Skardrek's host, even though the half-daemon managed to escape. We are grateful: the very same lord of Chaos had destroyed our homeland, too. I think we are the only survivors, and we too want to avenge our country."
He fell to one knee, then said:
"We want to be part of the Red Crusade, my Count Robert. We have no land and no people, just like you, and we wish to join your host. Do you accept us in your army?"
Robert smiled.
"I do. From now on, you are the Order of Courage. You will need a red and white armor, though."
"No problem," Gordon said, grinning. "We will join the rest of your host at once."

The Pegasus Knights listened Robert's directions to find the camp of the Red Crusade, at Gisoreux, and departed into the night sky, to the south. Already the sun was rising to the east.
"What do we do now?" the paladin asked, turning to Caroline. "You are to guide me, and I have no idea of what to do first."
"First, we go back to the camp," the damsel said, looking to the south. "We gather our men. All of them. Then we go to Mousilion, where the corruption of Chaos grows from one day to another. There, you will face threats greater than you can imagine. I'll tell you more later, Robert. May the Lady be with us."
Then, unexpectedly, she grabbed the knight's hair by the scruff of the neck and kissed him on the mouth. For a moment, the young paladin's legs looked as if they had no bone in them. Then Robert managed to get the control of himself and tried to look serious, without having much success to stop a smile from spreading on his face.
"Then let's go," he said. "Ride behind me. We still have a long way to go."






This was the last part of the second chapter of The White Knight. In the third and last chapter, "The Cursed City", the Red Crusade assaults Mousilion, a land of Bretonnia corrupted by Chaos, where a minion of Archaon has declared himself duke and plots to bring ruin and destruction to the kingdom of the Lady...

im still reading adn likin lol :thumb: