Dark clouds hovered in the shimmering moonlight. The winds stopped their melancholic howls, before changing direction. Their black and white banners fluttered in the air, their silence punctuated by their deep breathing. The war machines creaked in the distance, the horses silent with fear.

The time is right.

He walked out into the silence.
He smiled.

His black and white armour glistened in the moonlight, this sword noisily clacked against his thigh. His presence was made known. He wanted it made known. A group of men approached him, all dressed the same way as him. Their black armour glowed, light reflecting off their trimmed white sides. Their dragon-shaped helmets tucked under each arm, their white cloaks dancing in the wind.

"Are we ready?" He simply asked

"Yes, sir. The war machines are tuned to their highest standard. The men are eager to fight." One of his subordinates told him.

He simply nodded, and clipped on his helmet, and walked to his mare. He whispered something into its ear, then jumped up upon its back.

He drew his sword, stared at its engravings and prayed a short prayer.

A prayer for those who were going to feel his wrath

And he began to signal the others

He needed no speech. His army needed no orders.

He trotted to the front of the formations, soon accompanied by the men he was with a few moments ago.

Soon these poor bastards would pay.
Pay for the destuction of their cities.
Pay for the killing of their man.
Pay for ever setting foot into their soil
Pay for the life of dearest Alicia

Alicia...

He smiled. The thought of her made him smile. Smile upon her dead and ravaged body. Smile upon the dismembered body parts of her assailents.

He rose his sword

They rose theirs

And the attack began.