Jillian's Letter

Her hands quivered as she wrote. It was a stormy day, rain pattered against the window shutters as the trees shook and danced to the tune of the wind howling.

            She traveled the land, she saw amazing sights and killed scores of man, women and beast. She once stabbed a spear made of crystal into a demon lord erupting from an ancient stone. These were easy jobs by comparison to her task ahead. Jillian Cole had the chance to write a letter to the love of her life and could guarantee she would get the letter. The hardest decision was what to write.

            Jillian had lost her love once and worried so intensely that he second chance would slip through her fingers. “Hello, how are you? I’ve stopped killing. As much” Jillian scribbled the words down, scrunched her face at how awful it sounded, crumbled the paper and threw it out. She grabbed a new piece of paper, set it down and stared at it. The intimidation grew from this fresh piece of blank paper. This could be the final letter that gets sent or it could be a load of garbage that ends up in the ever-growing pile of reject ideas. Jillian really wished she could just prove herself by killing something.

            Day turned to evening, then evening dragged on into night. Jillian’s reject pile had grown and her sword arm was growing restless. “Maybe I could kill just one bandit, then right back to work on this letter. Killing DOES help people. If I save someone then its fine right?” Jillian said out loud to herself. Fighting gave her a sense of purpose and killing was a rush that she grew fond of. Jillian’s love left because she worried that Jillian killed too much and too frequently.

            “It’s either Me or the Vanguard” Jillian’s love said before she walked off. Jillian Cole WAS the Vanguard and found it impossible to choose, so the choice was made for her. Jillian could abandon the armor, take up another line of work and stop killing bad guys and monsters, but wondered if she would be the same person after that, would she still be herself?

            After hours of anguishing over each word, Jillian finally scrapped her current work, a full paper of apologies and excuses, fond wishes and lovely words. Jillian grabbed a new piece of paper and wrote her true feelings.

            “Hello my love. There’s not a day that goes by that I do not miss you. I miss the scent of your hair. The way you comforted me after battle and told me I would be amazing no matter if I had the armor or not.

 I understand why you left and I know now why I couldn’t make that decision myself.

I needed to tell you that even if you have moved on, that I still love you. I do not expect this letter to change your mind however. I am still the Vanguard. I cannot be anyone else. We cannot take a piece of a person and wish it to be the whole of them. I am the woman outside of the armor who smiles and jokes with you, but I am also the one inside the armor who fights endless battles. I hope that you are well. If you ever need me, please reach out. Goodbye for now. I hope to see you again soon”

Jillian finished writing the letter and put her pen down. She had written her honest feelings and that is all she could have done. She began to re-read the letter and a twinge of disapproval entered her mind. She wanted to change words and maybe even start over. Jillian slammed her fist down and declared “NO, It is finished” And the broke her pen in half and threw it on the pile of reject papers.

            The now finished letter was carefully folded with love, put into an envelope and sealed with wax. Jillian smiled to herself as walked over to a very frightened delivery man who was tied to a post in the cabin where she had been writing.

“So you know the woman I speak of, correct?” Jillian said in a tone that could sheer flesh. “Y-yes, of course, I’ve seen her many times while delivering l-lett…” The delivery man was cut short as Jillian nodded and shushed him. His whimpering upset her stomach and she needed him to do a job not tell his life story. “Alright. I will release you. Take this letter and make sure she gets it. Do NOT tell her that you were tied to a post. If you do tell her OR if you fail to deliver the letter all, you will see me again.” Jillian explained calmly. Then she gestured to her black Vanguard armor. “IF you do see me again I will be wearing that. And that armor will be the last thing you see" She hissed. "Now go!” She shouted.

            The delivery man took the letter, nodded several times and started to leave. “WAIT!" Jillian shouted. The poor delivery man froze and trembled. “Here is your pay. I am not an unfair woman” Jillian said softly as she poured a pile of gold coins into his trembling hands. It was enough gold for a weeks worth of deliveries. Which worked for him because he was only tied up for a day and a half.

            The storm had calmed and the deliveryman ran off into the night. Jillian felt giddy and nervous like a schoolgirl waiting to hear from her crush. It was a night of emotional growth for Jillian. “Now that the letter is sent, time to go back to work” Jillian said with a sly grin then began to adorn her black Vanguard armor. Out into the world there were monsters and bandits who were dead and didn’t even know it yet. Jillian needed to work off the stress from writing that letter and the outside world would feel it.

Winter for Conspirators Part 2

            Delana ruled over Jillian’s heart in the way that Jillian ruled over the battlefield. She fought with her soft green eyes and red hair, her summer dresses and talent for making Jill blush.  Delana was always the first one to turn any situation into a joke and loved to laugh. The only time Jillian ever saw Delana cry was on their last day together when Delana, frightened by the power of the Vanguard, made Jill choose between her or the Vanguard armor.

            The Vanguard now fought for her life in the fortress of the deceased General Durm. Every soldier in the meeting room rushed the Ebon knight while a servant boy ran to alert the rest of the soldiers in the keep. News of General Durm’s death spread like fire and soon the entire fortress had transformed into a hive of angry bees.

            Blood painted the walls with each swing of the Vanguard’s axe. Jillian wielded her two-handed battle-axe with both hands. She would normally flail her large weapon around with one hand but her rash decision making led to a very dire situation and she would need her full effort to escape alive.

            Axes, spears and swords charged into the small room, stabbing, thrusting and slashing at the demon knight. Jillian had incredible reflexes, speed and strength but was so surrounded that even she couldn’t avoid taking damage. Blood began to trickle from the gaps in her armor, spotting the floor and mixing with the pool of soldier blood forming at her feet.

            She rushed forward with her axe, he eyes burning red and her black armor lit up with fiery runes. Her helmet was still on the table from the meeting minutes before. Jillian reached for the helmet as she pushed her way through the room and the helmet jumped into her outstretched hand. She slammed her helmet over her head causing more runes to scrawl across the armor. The Vanguard began emitting a blazing heat as well and the soldiers felt like they were fighting next to a roaring bonfire.

            Through the enchantments of the armor, the wearer is always stronger when wearing the complete set. Now that Jillian had her helmet she was even more of an unnatural force. The Vanguard swung her axe back and forth as she pushed forward. Each axe swing was like a farmer cutting down wheat for the harvest, each harvest a bloody soldier.

            Jillian’s blood stopped dripping from the armor and instead was being absorbed by the black enchanted metal. Her blood was feeding the power of the Vanguard armor and the more wounded she became, the stronger she grew. The armor fed on the blood of its host and of the victims as their bodies fell. The armor wasn’t keeping Jillian alive in any way and she could die from blood loss if she wasn’t careful. When she reached her peak frenzy, she would stop feeling pain and only rage would exist in her mind.

            Corpses tumbled down the stairs into the main room of the keep as the Vanguard tore through the ranks of Durm Fortress. The Vanguard was like a nightmare made real, a demon pulled from the earth to smite the human race and still the soldiers fought on. The soldiers didn’t know of General Durm’s treachery, they didn’t know that the Vanguard was indeed hired by the King and so they thought they were fighting a great evil. They fought and died for their King and land and Jillian didn’t have the time or mental capacity to explain otherwise.

            “You are a monster!” Shouted a terrified soldier as he slashed wildly with his sword. Most of the slices clanked uselessly against the Vanguard’s powerful armor but the sword strikes that hit between the gaps made Jillian bleed her life force down into the greedy maw of the dark armor.

“You’re a monster” Cried another voice. This wasn’t a soldier, it was a voice inside Jillian’s head. Delana sat crumpled over on the grass as she sobbed. “You’re a monster” she cried. That was the first time Jillian went into a frenzy.

Jillian blacked out and when she came to her senses she had massacred a group of militiamen.

Several of the militia had been too forceful while trying to flirt with Delana. Jillian arrived on the scene to see her love struggling to leave as the men pulled on Delana’s arm and laughed. Jillian blacked out and in her frenzy carved them all up and her armor drank their blood. When Jillian heard Delana call her a monster she was struck with a pain that she had not felt before or since.

Jillian had been hurt in a thousand different ways since that day and hearing Delana’s words was still the worst thing she experienced.

            The sadness of that moment tore through her mind like daggers and the rage in Jillian swelled. The loneliness, the heartache and the loss would all be rolled into a ball of anger and forced onto the soldiers of Durm’s fortress who thought they were fighting for their King.

            The Vanguard made it out of the keep and into the courtyard when her blood loss began to slow her movements. Archers rained arrows down from the guard towers set up along the walls. “Close the gates!” Shouted the captain of the guards. The soldiers surrounded Jillian as the arrows continued to fall. The Vanguard lashed out with slow powerful axe swings, each swing sent out a burst of flames that would burn up arrows and scorch exposed skin. Magical flames would burst out from the runes on the armor with each step the Vanguard took. The armor wasn’t sentient but the magic in the armor was enhanced by blood and at that moment the armor was drenched in it.

            Jillian’s vision started to blur as she rushed forward. Jillian stopped moving but the armor continued expelling bursts of flames from everywhere and her axe burned with molten heat. The Vanguard was drenched in blood, covered in wounds, with arrows sticking out of her. The soldiers began to feel that they won and began to cheer.

Then the Vanguard shook and launched forward in a dead sprint. The dark knight moved like a bolt of lighting, ran straight into the gate and collided into the massive door with enough force to cause a shockwave. A loud boom and a shockwave was sent up into the archer towers toppling the soldiers from their perch. The Gate cracked open just enough and the Vanguard continued its mad dash to escape. A giant hole was torn through the metal gate, the edges of the hole were burnt from heat, bent back and curled up as if the metal was as flexible as clay.

Durm fortress was left in ruin, trails of bodies and smearing of blood ran through the halls. The Vanguard was nowhere to be seen. That was the historic day in the Kingdom when the record number of soldiers, knights, guards and servants all quit their post at the same time.

            The treachery against the King never came to pass and without General Durm the conspirators disbanded. The King publicly denounced the actions of the Vanguard but was secretly grateful for disposing of General Durm and those loyal to him.

            As for the Vanguard, she never reported in to the King, she never spoke to his advisor and no one in that Kingdom reported seeing a fierce black knight.

While the legend of the Vanguard would grow in that land for years to come, the fate of the actual Jillian Cole would remain a mystery.

Winter for Conspiritors

            The first snow of winter had finally settled over the land and the Vanguard knew she was running short on time. It had been several months since she had slain Captain Humford and his cowardly nobles. She could kill a room of people without breaking a sweat but rooting out treachery and hidden plots was not her strong point. She requested permission from the King to behead every noble in court but was quickly denied. The treasonous wolves hid among the flock of sheep and the Vanguard lacked the subtly required to find a wolf without killing a flock of sheep.

            The Vanguard’s black metal boots crunched down on the fallen snow as she approached a large fortress in the northern part of the kingdom. Jillian Cole, the Vanguard, heard only whispers of treason during her travels and the only solid lead she had was the word of a cowering noble. The coward accused General Durm of being the leader of the traitors, but Jillian didn’t think it was wise to just burst in and start lobbing off heads. So the Vanguard approached the fortress of General Durm with her helmet off. She hoped that the general would see Jillian as a person and maybe let his guard down. She only needed him to slip up once and then she could put her helmet back on and do what she felt the most comfortable doing, removing heads from bodies.

            Jillian marched up to the gate of Durm Fortress. She had a confident stride, with her helmet tucked under her arm and her double-sided axe, strapped to her back. she had an assortment of large deadly weapons and while she wished she could bring them all, she knew it would be difficult to be diplomatic while carrying an armory on her back.

            As the Vanguard approached the large gate a man shouted from atop the stone wall “State your name and business here!” the guard’s voice was stern and Jillian could tell he was on edge. “I am an ambassador of the King, seeking an audience with General Durm” Jillian called back. The Vanguard’s mannerisms matched someone who had been in the military for years. In most situations her tone made her sound rigid or unfriendly but she had the perfect tone for speaking with members of the military.

            Without another word from the guards the gates opened. Jillian marched forward towards the keep. Her face was confident and cold but her mind was racing. Even at this late stage of her plan, she wasn’t sure what she would say to General Durm. As her body marched forward, her mind went back to her early years. Jillian Cole’s father would have known what to do in a situation like this. Jillian’s father, Jeriah Cole, was a silver-tongued devil who could get out of any situation with words. Jillian was more like her mother and grandfather, both great warriors who had slain hundreds of soldiers in their day.

            Jillian shook the thoughts from her head. “I don’t need to worry, this General Durm is a military man, he is most likely gruff and old. And since he is a traitor he is also probably arrogant. I am sure he will slip up, then I can slay him and go home to my books and wine” Jillian thought. Her eyes flashed with determination as she hastened her step.

            The door to the keep opened just as the Vanguard approached. To her surprise a smiling older man emerged from the entrance.
“I heard the Vanguard was approaching my fortress and my men panicked!” The man chuckled as he exclaimed. This was General Durm, a slender man in his fifties. His hair was black with gray on the back and sides. He had a trimmed beard, brown eyes and a slender face. His welcoming smile belied the true deadliness of his character.

“I honestly expected fire and brimstone, not a beautiful woman” Durm said as he gestured to the door. Jillian curled her mouth into a sneer but then relaxed her face. “It is good to meet you General Durm. I was raised to properly introduce ones self before entering their home. I am Jillian Cole, Ambassador for the king. I am also known as the Vanguard, but this is not Vanguard business, this is the King’s business” Jillian replied stiffly.

General Durm’s smile grew wider “Yes of course! So rude of me. I am General Theodore Durm. Would you please join me in the keep so we can discuss business?” he asked as he gestured again to the door. Jillian nodded and proceeded forward.  

            Inside the keep was a large room made of stone with plaster walls, each wall painted with colorful paintings. The middle wall in the far back had a picture of General Durm sticking a sword into a knight of the rival kingdom. Jillian had killed more than her share of people but didn’t find it necessary to paint a picture about it. The main room of the keep was clean and well lit with torches and a few window slits in the back. “I have won so many battles for the King that he allowed me to construct my own fortress. I have added many of my own details to this structure. The beautiful artwork, a few trap doors and an armory grand enough to make even the King’s armorer jealous!” the general boasted. Jillian nodded her head and winced at Durm’s bragging. Jillian was led through the main hall, up a set of stairs and into a smaller room. This looked to be a meeting room, well lit, with sturdy tables and chairs. Armed and armored guards followed closely behind Jillian as she was taken through the keep. 

            Jillian began to recall memories of when she was a little girl, all of the bragging and bluster was reminiscent of her father’s friends. Nobles and military leaders would boast about their accomplishments while Jillian played soldier with her wooden swords. A man named Arthur Delmont was one such friend and bragged almost as much as General Durm. It was at this early age that Jillian knew she didn’t want to be a noble lady. 

            Jeriah tried to teach little Jillian everything he knew about politics but the lessons fell on deaf ears. It wasn’t until she was the age of fifteen that she started to pay attention to the lessons the nobles taught. It was at this point when Arthur Delmont and his noble friends turned on Jillian’s father. One day their friendly smiles vanished and they convinced the Lord of the land that Jeriah Cole was guilty of treason. The noble men and women then tried to seize all they could from Jeriah. Jillian remembered that lesson and distrusted the rich and powerful ever since.

            General Durm finally sat down at his large meeting table. Jillian’s mind was brought back to the present. She smiled and nodded at whatever inane thing the general was talking about and he returned with a pleased smile.

            Jillian pulled the wooden chair out, her metal boots clanked against the stone floor. She sat down with a heavy thud “As lovely as your keep is and as much as I loved our conversation, I must discuss our business” Jillian said, still trying to be diplomatic. Durm gestured his hand for her to continue. “The King is concerned about the killing of Captain Humford and several noble men. He wants to make sure his MOST trusted allies are safe and accounted for” Jillian said with fake concern in her voice. General Durm’s expression brightened further. “I will admit, you had me worried. When the Vanguard approaches your keep, the mind assumes the worst. It is so encouraging to hear that both the King and the legendary Vanguard are concerned about me and the leaders of this land” General Durm said as he ran his fingers through his chin beard.

            Jillian flinched as she felt an old memory scratching at the back of her mind. A half forgotten thought, buried in time trying to claw its way from the depths. She felt dread and sick but didn’t know why. “I am very secure and comfortable as you can see. Now if I may ask, why was the Vanguard sent with this message and not an ordinary envoy?” Durm asked as he continued to fidget with his facial hair. Jillian didn’t answer, her face went pale as her mind raced. “W-what?” Jillian said as she stared at Durm with an unusual intensity. General Durm repeated his question as his fidgeting grew worse. 

“Everyone has a tell. You can never trust ‘Uncle’ Delmont when he fidgets with his beard!” Laughed Jeriah Cole. Nine-year-old Jillian laughed along with her father as Delmont sighed.
  Jillian snapped to her senses as she glared across the table at General Durm. “Uncle Delmont?” Jillian said, her words poured from her mouth like bile. General Durm froze and his face went pale. “Who is that, my dear?” Durm asked nervously.

            The pieces all fit together in her mind. Years of age, stress and battle marked Delmont’s face, he changed his name, he was promoted through the military ranks and now after all this time, he was sitting across from Jillian. The most twisted part was that Arthur Delmont was like a brother to Jeriah and the closest thing to family Jillian had at that point. He was also the traitorous snake who killed her father and was now a prime suspect in trying to overthrow the King.

            Jillian stopped thinking, she stopped reasoning, she was no longer an envoy to the King or a diplomat trying her best, she was The Vanguard. Jillian’s eyes burned fiery red and in the blink of an eyes had jumped up from her chair, pulled her axe from the straps on her back was now moving toward the snake known as General Durm.

With one hand Jillian swung her axe. With that axe she sliced through any chance at subtly just as she sliced through General Durm's neck.
The head of general Durm had a shocked expression, the same shocked expression as every guard and soldier in the room.

  Unquenchable blood thirst and rage flowed through the Vanguard at that moment. She had just murdered a military general inside of his own fortress, a fortress full of battle tested soldiers and would now need every ounce of strength to make it out alive.

The Vanguard part 2 of 2

   Jill was so angry from her conversation that morning she was hardly watching where she was going. Her steps were interrupted as she tried to put on her last armored boot. She hopped on one foot as she slid the armor over her leather boot. Just as she was fully armored up she fell forward into a group of travelers. These ‘travelers’ looked more liked bandits or thugs. Jill had the best luck.

            “Watch it girlie” Said a large brutish man. “Easy, Trom” Said a hooded man in the group. Trom, the large man, smiled “No, we have been walking for days and out of all the space in these mountains this clumsy girl falls right on us” Trom replies. “She has some nice armor. I think it would look better on me” said a girl brandishing two daggers. “Listen we have work to do and robbing one lone soldier isn’t part of our plan” said the hooded man. “Well majority rules, Locke. Who else thinks we should make this clumsy bitch pay for crashing into me?” asked Trom as he raised his hand. The dagger girl raised her hand, Lock, the cloaked man, just glared from under his hood and the fourth member of the party a silent man with a spear also raised his hand.

            “Just run, get out of here” Said Locke. Jill was angry and now had someone to take her aggression out on. “No way, this fat tub called me a bitch” Jill replied. “You three will be lucky to leave here with your spines intact” 

            The spearman lunged forward at Jillian. He wore a blue bandana, blue baggy pants, sandals, no shirt and was very tan. His spear looked like it was for hunting and not something a soldier would carry. Jill swatted the spear away as it flew straight at her. The force of her gauntlet smacking the spear away knocked the hunting spear out of the man’s hands. The assassin girl spun and slashed with her daggers. Jill reacted quickly, so quickly that she either had amazing reflexes or she could slow down time. Jill ducked to dodge the blades and then gave an uppercut punch to the assassin’s jaw. Bones cracked and teeth shattered under the force of Jill’s armored fist. While Jill was busy delivering an uppercut, Trom swung his hammer right into Jill's left side. She was knocked sideways from the force of the hammer strike.

            The assassin clutched her broken jaw. She couldn’t talk to reply but went after Jill while she was down. Locke moved in quickly and pulled a cutlass out from under his cloak. He moved in front of the assassin and blocked her daggers before she could strike out with them. “Don’t do this” Locke warned. The assassin’s face squished up into a horrible glare and then she tried to stab Lock in the stomach. A gunshot rang out and the assassin fell over dead. Blood poured from her mouth and a large wound in her stomach. Gun smoke drifted out from beneath Locke’s cloak.

            Trom and the spearman turned to Locke in disbelief. “You killed her!” the normally silence spearman said then charged at Locke.

            This distraction gave Jill enough time to unholster her Axe. Jill’s axe was a double blades war axe. it was thinner and lighter than most battle axes that barbarians carried and soldiers rarely used axes. This was special made to compliment Jill’s agility and strength. To make up for the lack of weight, the axe’s blades were always very sharp and could cut through armor and bone.

            Jill held the axe handle with one hand and let the blade hit the ground. She glared at Trom with fierce intensity.
Trom ran forward holding his giant hammer in the air, ready to smash it down on Jill.
Jill swung her large two handed axe with one hand and slashed Trom’s chest. The large man yelled and lost balance. He stumbled and fell, giving Jill enough time and an opening to attack.

            Red markings began to glow on Jill’s black armor. The armor was enchanted with runes and when activated made Jill increasingly more powerful. The red runes lit up in the center and then spread out to her arms and legs. Jill walked toward Trom with her axe resting on her shoulder. Red runes burned brightly in her armor and her eyes looked more red than brown. “Ready to die bandit?” Jill asked. Her voice was different, more menacing and every breath was visible. With every breath Jill looked like she was exhaling steam or smoke. Trom saw this transformation and for the first time in a long time he felt genuine fear. Trom saw Jill's glowing red eyes and her smoky breath and worried that soon she would be breathing fire. At that moment she appeared to be some manner of dragon or demon.

“Hey, lady, look I’m sorry. Ok? We’re even. I give up” Trom said as he dropped his hammer. “Remember what I said? You will be lucky if you leave here with your spine intact and you don’t look very lucky to me” Jill hissed.

            Jill charged forward Trom picked up his hammer and blocked Jill’s on coming axe attack but the axe split the head off of Trom’s hammer.
Jill grabbed Trom by the throat with her black metal gauntlet and began squeezing. Trom choked and dropped what was left of his hammer. “Stop! That’s enough!” Locke said from the background.

           Locke had been fighting with the spearman and was trying not to kill any more people. Once Lock let his guard down the spearman charged passed him and tried to stab his spear into Jill’s back. Jill spun around with uncanny speed and swung her axe. In one move she sidestepped the spear, turned around and swung her axe. the spear stabbed into Trom instead of Jill and as the spearman accidentally stabbed his boss Jill’s axe sliced through the air and chopped the spearman’s head clean off of his shoulders. the spearman's head bounced when it hit the ground and then rolled down the mountain path. The spearman stiffly clung to his spear but the rest of his body sagged over, bringing Trom’s body toppling over as well.

            Locke walked up to Jill. “I should have been warning them to run instead of warning you” he said grimly. He put down the hood of his dark gray cloak, revealing a young man with short spikey light brown hair, a bandanna around his head keeping his hair in place, tanned skin and blue eyes. Locke would normally have a big bright smile on his face but today he was wearing a grim stare.
“It had to be done. They had no respect for the life of others” Jill said coldly.

            “Neither do you!” Locke replied angry as he gestured at all of the bloodshed. “I have respect for innocent lives. You’re friends wouldn’t have spared me, so why should I spare them?” Jill said as she turned quickly to face Locke. Locke flinched as he expected her to attack him.
“they weren’t my friends and you spare people because you are better then they are, not equal” Locke replied. “Nice ideal, but I have been in too many wars to agree with you” Jill said as she turned away and continued down the mountain path. “Thanks for the help” Jill shouted back without turning. Locke nodded “Yeah, I thought I was helping” He said almost too quietly for Jill to hear. “You didn’t really need any help” Locke muttered.

            Jill continued down the path, leaving the dead bodies and the young Locke behind her. She found it odd for a bandit to stick up for a traveler and even stranger that he had a gun. Guns were new technology and almost no one had them. This had Jill feeling curious, but not curious enough to go back and bother talking with Locke again. Jill was still on a journey and couldn’t afford any more interruptions or set backs.

The first snowflakes of winter could be seen drifting over the kingdom and Jillian had little time to waste.

The Fall of Conspirators

Cold wind blew in from the north and clashed with the warm air settling over the land below. It was the beginning of fall, the start of festivals, harvests and feasts. It was the time for thinking back on the year and preparing for winter. The beautiful fall scenery mixed with the chilly air and the cozy fires burning brightly in fireplaces.

This season was loved by many and tolerated by others. The villagers across the land lived their daily lives while enjoying the small pleasures of life.

Under the King’s rule most of the land prospered but there were forces at work which would undermine the King's progress. Many of the nobles and lords preferred laws that favored the few over the many. Several of these high ranking generals and lesser lords conspired to seize power for themselves. 

The world carried on unaware of the brewing battle and grasp for power. The delicate light of day shone brightly through the newly yellow and orange changing leaves of Fall. Far from the delicate light and tucked away in a dark room where men hunched over a table, plotting their dark design.

That autumn was important for the kingdom, but very few knew it. That autumn was the time for preparation for the winter, when the King’s soldiers would be spread out and hindered by the snow. When the lesser lords and generals could use snow and cold as a reason to spend longer days and nights at the castle.

In the small fort, located on the eastern side of the kingdom, in a small room sat several of the conspirators.  A tall knight dressed in black armor stepped into the room from a darkened doorway. The knight wasn’t wearing the traditional kingdom seal and the armor wasn't made from any distinguishable metal. Since it was a military fort seeing a knight wasn’t cause for alarm.
“What are you doing soldier? This is a private meeting” said the captain at the table. Captain Humford wore the blue, white and yellow kingdom colors, decorative armor, no helmet and had a large mustache. Anyone would assume he was important just by looking at him. The others at the table were lords of the surrounding lands and villages. They wore clothes made of fine silk and cloth and fancy hats with feathers sticking from the brim. They owned armor but felt safe enough to not wear it on this occasion. 

The black armored knight spoke, the voice echoed strangely from the slots in the helmet. “The chief advisor to the king suspects treachery and I was sent to handle the situation”
 The captain felt a twinge of nervousness shoot through him but he covered it up with anger. “I am a captain in the kings army, how dare you! You will be hanged, drawn and quartered for this! I’ll see to it personally! I will speak to the advisor and remind him of his place!” Shouted Captain Humford, his face growing red as he slammed his hand against the table. The nobles sat in their place, didn’t move and tried to put on a strong face to show they were upset by this ‘outrage’ as well but the nervousness in their eyes gave them away.

“I am not part of your kingdom and do not fear you judgment. None of you will be alive to pass your judgments anyway” Said the Black Knight. This made the lords cower and the captain stand up with his sword drawn.

The dark knight charged forward, holding a large sword with two hands. The captain flipped the table to block the knight then stabbed his sword over the table.
The knight stopped sharply then brought up the two handed sword blocking the strike from the captain’s sword.
“I am The Vanguard, slayer of men and the demon of the mountain pass. Struggling will just make this more painful for you” Said the knight, speaking through a deep voice and guttural breath.

This declaration terrified one of the lords, who had heard of the Vanguard before and the fearsome tales of his journey. The three lords stood up sharply when the table was flipped and after hearing the Vanguard’s threats, two of them drew their swords while the third ran for the door.

With supernatural speed and strength, the Vanguard crouched down, turned sideways and launched the two handed sword through the air. The sword spun sideways like a spinning buzz saw. It struck the fleeing noble in the back, went through his chest and pinned him to the wall.
The other two nobles and the captain all attacked at once, knowing this was their chance to outnumber and kill the weaponless knight.

The Vanguard raised its metal gauntlets to block the sword strikes, while moving backward toward the sword sticking out of the dead noble.
The Captain and the first noble were blocked by the gauntlets but the second noble was at enough of an angel that the sword went passed the gauntlet and struck the Vanguard in the side, between the gaps in the armor.

Blood trickled from the gap in the armor and marked the nobles sword. “So the Shadow Knight CAN bleed” Gloated the second noble.
The Vanguard stopped moving toward the sword and instead lunged at the noble. Red glaring eyes burned through the darkened slots in the Vanguard’s helmet. The Vanguard grabbed the second noble with its metal gauntlet clad hands. The Vanguard clenched both hands around the coward's neck, sinking the razor sharp fingers of the gauntlet deep into his throat. “That wound is nothing compared to the devastation you and your companions will feel. I will paint this room with your blood as a warming to any who strike at me with their blades!” Roared the Vanguard. The second noble only heard half of the threat before he passed out from blood and oxygen loss.

The other two men were struck with fear from this display. “Let us live, I will give you any amount. I can double whatever you are being paid” cried the remaining noble. The Captain scowled at the noble. “Show some backbone!” 

“I do not bend my will to weakness” said the Vanguard as it moved toward the sword. The captain ran to the side of the room so the Vanguard would have to split its attention between the Captain and the two nobles.
The Vanguard ripped the two handed sword from the dead noble and in one motion swung it at the captain. The blood of the dead noble flew off the blade then splattered the Captain’s face seconds before the Vanguards' sword cleaved the captains head from his shoulders. The captains blood then splattered against the stone wall behind him.

The headless captain toppled to the ground while the spineless noble stood shivering. “It was General Durms idea, we all just followed him. Please spare me” Said the noble. “It might have been his plan, but you followed it and you would have happily claimed any reward for doing so” replied the Vanguard.
The Vanguard walked slowly toward the noble, the two handed sword dragging along the ground and dripping with blood. “Even if your king pardoned you this moment, I would still kill you. Weakness and treachery needs to be punished. You will be punished”

Outside the sun shone brightly, the birds chirped and the trees swayed in the gentle breeze of the day. The cold hard wind of winter had not arrived for most but for the conspirators of the eastern fort, winter had already fallen on their lives and they would not see another spring. The sinister winter plan had not been halted, only slowed.

News would spread among the nobles and generals of the grizzly murder of Captain Humford and the three nobles. If the King’s advisor and the Vanguard hoped to stop the plot against the king they would have to work fast and could now expect heavier security around the heads of this scheme.

The Duel on Wolf Peak

            The winter festival was fast approaching, it was a time to celebrate and eat one last big meal before the harshness of deep winter set in. All throughout the land people would hang colorful lanterns, cook delicious roasts with herbs and eat the last fresh vegetables of the year. The approaching months would be a time to preserve and conserve on food and resources so the winter festival was seen as a bright, colorful and loud firework in the sky before the dead of night set in. To the people living in the town of Wolf Peak it was one of the biggest holidays of the year. Wolf Peak was located in the White Mountains and the White Mountains had the harshest winds and coldest winters in all of the land. By the middle of winter Wolf Peak would be completely trapped by snow and deadly winds. The towns in the low lands could leave their house and even travel in an emergency if they had to. The people of Wolf Peak were confined to the town, cut off from the rest of the world for three months.

            During the Winter Festival people would prepare for the long winter ahead or just leave town and head for the lowlands, where the winters were shorter and less severe. The only saving grace that Wolf Peak had was the shelter of the Respite caves. Long tunnels and man made caves that bore deep into the mountain were known as the Respite caves, the town of Wolf Peak was built inside of the caves. Villagers wouldn’t be snowed into their houses but they were completely trapped inside of the mountain. The villagers who lived in Wolf Peak all year had a close bond with each other. After a year of relying on your neighbor you start to see your neighbor as a brother or sister.

            Soft music echoed out from the town and warm lights could be see shining in the Respite caves. People were celebrating, preparing for the night of the Winter Festival and preparing for the long winter afterward. While most celebrated there were those who had other matters that needed their attention. In such a peaceful and joyous time there were those who insisted on fighting.

Clashing swords rang out through the mountains, two men stood facing each other in a duel to the death. The bitter cold winds of the White Mountain Pass blew through the combatants but they both stood unmoving. One fighter was wearing all black armor, a black helmet that was rounded at the top and came to a point in the front, a long red scarf wrapped tightly around the neck, carried a long sword and shield and had a battle axe on his back. The first fighter was known as the Vanguard and had more than a few legends.

            The second fighter was known as Sir Gregory Andrews, a former knight who apposed his king and was thrown out of the castle and stripped of his honor and title. Sir Andrews was more recently known as Gregory the knight mercenary. Sir Gregory Andrews had medium length messy brown hair. A trimmed goatee that was starting to grow out and looked like it hadn’t been maintained in a few weeks. He wore silver armor that he owned from his days as a knight, the armor used to shine brightly like a star but it hadn’t been cleaned or polished in a while. Gregory used to have a helmet but the King had taken it away because it had the Kingdom seal on it. Even though his kingdom branded him a traitor he still tried to be noble in everything he did but also needed to eat and many of Sir Andrews’ deeds had not been noble as of late. Gregory knew the Vanguard was wanted by the king and figured if he captured the black armored villain then his good name would be restored and the King might even forgive him for all that treason stuff.

            Few people knew why the Vanguard was a wanted criminal and even less knew who the Vanguard even was. Sir Andrews didn’t care though, he needed to return to his noble statues and was running out of ways to get back on the King’s good side. Gregory charged at the Vanguard with his two handed sword, Gregory’s dirt covered silver armor clanked against the stone with every step.  The Vanguard did not react to Gregory’s sudden charge, the dark night just stood like a statue, firm and unwavering. Sir Andrews swung his sword, swinging it downward with all of his strength. The Vanguard moved with unnatural speed moments before the sword struck his armor. The Vanguard moved out of the way and in one motion slammed his shield into Gregory’s chest. The blow from the shield struck with such force that it knocked Gregory off of his feet and sent him backward into the snow.

            Gregory struggled to get to his feet as he clutched his chest and tried to breath again. The strike was so strong that Sir Andrews was lucky he didn’t have internal bleeding. “Why do you wish to fight me?” Asked the Vanguard, his voice echoed through his helmet and sounded almost inhuman. “I need to bring your head to my King. You are a villain with a price on your head” Gregory said as he held his sword up again. “I am wanted in many kingdoms, but I am not a villain. I do not want to kill you, but I will defend myself. If your honor commands you to slay me then you risk your life in trying to do so” The Vanguard said as he sheathed his sword, tied his shield to his back and pulled his two handed axe from its holster on his back.

            Sir Andrews held his sword tightly, he didn’t want to keep fighting, he felt out matched by this nightmare of a knight, but he couldn’t live another day as a mercenary. “If I kill you my honor will be restored, I cannot live without my honor. I won’t live another day as a dog” Said Andrews as he charged again. He swung his sword downward like before and the Vanguard crouched down to start a counter attack, knowing that the Vanguard would counter Gregory didn’t put all of his weight into his sword like last time and instead brought his knee up as his sword came down. The Vanguard tried to react but was kneed in the head. Gregory was able to bring his sword down on the now dazed Vanguard. The sacrifice was that his sword slash was not as powerful as it normally would have been.

            The Vanguard tumbled backward into the snow with a fresh slash in his armor. “Your supposed ‘honor’ binds you to your king like a dog. The kingdoms hate me because I am truly free. I have honor, I spare the weak and I do not resort to cheap tricks, but I am hated because I do not let others use my honor to chain me down” The Vanguard said, his words rang out, echoing with each word. The words stung Sir Andrews as he thought back to the things he did to survive all the while hoping to regain the King’s favor and his precious honor. “Enough talk, I will finish you here and now!” Gregory said as he stabbed his sword down on the Vanguard who was starting to stand back up.

            The Vanguard couldn’t react fast enough and the sword plunged through the shoulder joint in the armor were there was little protection. The Vanguard’s armor had weak spots and joints in it for increased mobility. The weakness in the Vanguard’s armor had been exploited and blood dripped from the shoulder joint and down the Vanguard’s hand as his blood spilled out through his armor. “So you are a man after all. So many stories were told of you being a demon or a specter that haunted a suit of armor” Said Sir Gregory with triumph.

            The Vanguard’s armor began to glow and pulsing red light vibrated from the black metal plates. Gregory stepped back as the Vanguard stood up. “I am none of those things. What I am, is your death” Said the Vanguard, his voice echoing from his helmet in a rage. Icy wind blew over the two combatants and the snow began to blow in from the north. The winter storms were growing more intense and if the battle lasted much longer both the Vanguard and Gregory would freeze to death.

            The Vanguard took off his helmet and threw it into the snow. Gregory Andrews was take back by what he saw. The Vanguard lifted his axe with one hand as his other arm lay limp. Before Gregory could react the Vanguard had moved forward four feet in a blink and was mid attack. Gregory only blinked once and then saw the Vanguard raising his axe into the air and then down onto Sir Gregory’s shoulder. The axe slashed through Sir Andrews’ armor and cut a chunk into his shoulder, upper torso and ribcage. Sir Gregory Andrews coughed up blood and stared at the Vanguard with a hazy vision.

            A woman with jet black hair, burning red eyes and skin as white as the snow stared at Gregory with intense hatred. “You lived like a dog, chained to your master. Now this is where you die, cold, alone and forgotten” Said the Vanguard, her gaze harsher than the winter winds of the White Mountain. The Vanguard picked up her helmet, placed it back onto her head and walked off, blood dripping from her arm and leaving a trail behind her. Soon she disappeared into the wind and snow of the mountain and Sir Gregory was left alone. Blood poured from his wounds and he began to lose consciousness. Faint music was heard from the town of Wolf Peak and Gregory smiled. The Winter Festival was starting and Gregory wondered were he would be right now if he hadn’t chased after the King’s favor like mad dog.

            Gregory closed his eyes, music played softly like a lullaby and then soon faded. The sound of the wind disappeared and the cold could no longer be felt.  The Winter Festival was fast approaching and everyone was busy celebrating.