Crouching in the a field of wheat, Somerled turns and looks at the peasant army and the mercenary group that he has behind him. All crouched and holding their weapons.

“Is everyone ready?” He whispered.

A few grunts in response to say yes he told them.

“Okay, you all keep the soldiers distracted in the valley, I’m going around to deal with Kitchner.”

After that, Somerled snook off to the top of the hill, from there he could see the peasant army and the mercenaries slowly approaching the valley, then he could start to hear their screaming to alert the Kitchner soldiers.

He watched as many of the soldiers in the distance began to form their ranks and head over. They were far away but Somerled could see the groups getting closer to together. Then he saw them first clash, the sound of steel on steel and deathly screams and the battle had begun.

Gripping onto the side of the hill, Somerled began to make his dissent. The rocks were cold from the blizzard but frozen in place. There were only a few that broke free whilst he carried on down making his climb not too difficult.

It didn’t take long until his feet were firmly placed on the ground, looking up at the grey stoned castle, Somerled began charging towards it.

There were four soldiers stationed at the door that quickly spotted Somerled charging at them. Pulling out his Fyssa blade, the knight slowed his charging and allowed the soldiers to run at him.

Two came at once, both slicing their swords clumsily through the air, taking a quick step back they both swung into mid air. Somerled thrusted his blade at the one on his right who was just quick enough to deflect the attack, but with the motion of the block, Somerled span around and planted the blade firmly into the other man’s neck just below his helmet.

Slicing the sword out, a gush of blood poured onto the floor as the man dropped to his knees and his face planted into the cold icy floor.

A sword struck him from behind, the blade not sharp enough to pierce through his armour but hard enough to push him forward. The three remaining men gathered around Somerled as he waited for the first to attack.

Hearing the footsteps moving from the man on his right, Somerled raised his blade and forced the mans attack to ricochet into the air. Quickly turning back, another soldier attempted to bring his sword across Somerled’s chest but he blocked it with ease, stepping forward he impaled his sword into the mans chest. As he pulled his flyssa out of the man his blood began to form a pool onto the ground.

Two left.

The two attacked in unison, Somerled was able to block one whilst dodging the other attack. He continued to block both soldiers’ attacks and awaited an opening to strike.

Suddenly, one stepped back and lost his footing just as the other swung his sword through the air at head hight. Ducking below it, Somerled gripped his sword in both hands and forced it through the soldier’s stomach, effortlessly pulling it out he charged at the final man who was walking backwards in fear.

He was holding his sword aimed at Somerled, no plan of attack and his eyes screamed frightened. A fake jump forward, the man swung his sword weakly and Somerled took the opportunity to grab onto the blade, push it to the side and forced his sword straight through the final soldier’s throat.

All four now lay dead on the ground and the castle was no longer guarded.

As he got ten feet away from the entrance, a howling screech came filled the air and a loud gush of wind sent the thousands of dead leaves flying.

From behind the castle a giant beast flew into the air, it looked a cross from an eagle and a bat, giant 10 feet wings that were covered in thick brown feathers. On the ends of the wings were giant grey claws. It’s feet were equally large claws, big enough to pick up a filled carriage with ease and it had fangs the size of a large man.

Its screech pierced the ears as its silhouette cast a shadow in front of the sun.

“He has a fucking Roc!” Somerled shouted, looking back at the peasant army still fighting the soldiers a few hundred feet away.

The Roc beast set its eyes on the peasant and the gust from its wings caused the blizzard to fly in the opposite direction.

Somerled was helpless to watch as this beast dove to the ground, crashing into both fighting sides and sending the men flying into the sky.

That thing can take us all out in a matter of minutes!

Looking around, Somerled saw two flaming torches at the entrance of the castle. Grabbing a bow that was on one of the dead soldiers back, he lit up an arrow and waited for the opportunity to distract the Roc.

It has grounded itself and was snacking on some of the peasants, biting through their bone like butter.

“Come on you bastard.” Somerled whispered to himself, aiming the bow and firing the flaming arrow at the beast.

It struck its back, causing no real damage but enough to get the monster to turn its gaze onto the knight.

Somerled through the bow to the ground, gripping both hands around the handle of the silver longsword on his back, he unsheathed it and held the blade to his side.

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The longsword was nearly the length of a fully grown man and sharp enough to cut through the thickest steel armour.

The Roc slowly walked on its wicked claws towards Somerled, stopping in it’s tracks, it roared a mighty noise, the sheer force of the scream pushing Somerled backwards. Its fangs sharp and black, picking up its pace the beast charged at the knight.

As its charge grew faster, the beast slowly flapped its mighty wings and took a few feet off the ground, roaring as it attacked its prey.

Watching it’s attack carefully, Somerled leaped forward, managing to catch the slight gap between the beasts’ claws and holding the longsword up slicing through the monster, although drawing blood it was no deathly blow.

Flapping its wings to bring itself to a stop, the Roc screamed once more and turned its head back to Somerled.

As the Roc flew back at him, Somerled ran towards the steps leading to the castle entrance, managing to reach the slightly raised wall and leaping at the beast as it flew at him.

The force of the Roc crashing into Somerled battered his armour to crush into his ribs, forcing the air to escape from his lungs.

With every inch of his might, Somerled remained gripped onto the beasts chest, gripping its thick feathers.

In an attempt to fight off Somerled, the Roc flew straight into the sky, roaring out as it did so. The wind crashing against the knight, his longsword still remained in one hand. He brought the blade back, not being able to move to much, he placed the pointed end of the sword against the Roc’s chest and pushed.

Its skin was thick and harsh, but Somerled was unwilling to allow this beast to kill him. Pushing as hard as he could, the tip of the blade pierced through the beasts skin and deeper and deeper. Somerled impaled the Roc’s chest.

The Roc screamed out in pain, ringing into Somerled’s ears as the bird’s flight slowed down. Looking down, they were higher than the castle when the beasts flying stopped and began falling to the ground.

Soaring to the harsh floor, the ice on Somerled’s armour was cracking off from the wind as the ground grew closer and closer.

“Fuck!” Somerled shouted as the bird crashed onto the harsh floor landing on its back.

Dust and snow filled the air, covering the entire beast and making it impossible to see. When Somerled opened his eyes, he realised that he was still alive, yet he knew he suffered a few broken bones.

Managing to pick himself up, Somerled pulled his longsword out of the Roc’s chest, it was covered in the crimson blood as the monster remained lifeless on the ground.

The fighting in the valley was still going, albeit quieter than when Somerled first started against this beast. He knew that the peasants won’t be able to fight much longer and he had to be quick if he was going to find his way to Kitchner.

Walking to the castle entrance, Somerled clutched as his body, the blow from the Roc having broken at minimum one rib and forcing him to gasp at every breath. He put the longsword back onto his back and pulled back out this fyssa blade and made his way inside of the castle.

The halls were poorly lit, darkness took over and once inside the thick walls silenced the sounds of battle from outside.

Limping through the corridor, Somerled shouted out.

“Kitchner! Where are you?!”

There was no response, he carried on his journey along the hall until he found a stone, spiral staircase.

Reaching the second level, this floor was covered in a red rug, fit for a high born.

“Who the fuck are you?!” A man’s voice called out from afar.

“Kitchner?” Somerled shouted back, “Come here now!”

The lights from a distant room flickered, when the shape of a man appeared from the doorway.

He looked at Somerled and smiled.

This is him?

Kitchner stood still, dressed in silk, blue robes. He had a chiselled face of a young man and long brown hair, the sort of man that could make a great high born, if he had not gone down the path of death and destruction.

“So, since when do the Brotherhood of Blood attempt to assassinate Jarls?” He asked back, his voice soft and not menacing.

“Since you massacre hundreds for your own pleasure.” Somerled replied as he slowly walked towards the Jarl, clutching at his chest in pain.

“So, the poor people have hired a mighty knight to stop me?” Kitchner laughed, “It’s a shame you look too badly hurt to stop me.”

“Even on my death bed I could kill a boy like you.” Somerled replied getting closer to the high born.

“Maybe you’ll kill me, or maybe not. Just know, if you don’t kill me, I will burn every town to the ground. I will take pleasure in murdering every person that crosses my path.”

“Why?” Somerled asked, “Why would a high born, able to have anything they want cause so much evil?”

“Why?” Kitchner laughed, “Why not.” He replied and brought out a sword from his belt and charged at Somerled.

Releasing his grip from his chest, Somerled raised his sword and blocked Kitchner’s attack. Face to face, Somerled could see the joy this boy possesses from the fight.

“You know, I’ve never met a member of the Brotherhood.” Kitchner laughed and pushed himself back and a few feet away.

“I will be the last person you ever see.” Somerled tells him, raising his weapon and striking at the jarl.

His movements are slower from the pain and Kitchner blocked the attack, holding his sword back from striking his face.

Pushing Somerled back, Kitchner mocked as he said.

“Look at you, fighting for justice and for what’s right! What a load of bullshit!” He shouted striking at the knight as the two crossed swords a handful of times before stepping back, Somerled attempting to breath through the pain.

“There is no evil, no gods to fight for, no reason for anything that happens. We just, do. And I do what I want!” Kitcher shouted and attacked once more at the weakened Somerled.

Somerled pushed the attack down and Kitchner’s body hung down as his sword crashed onto the rug below their feet.

Somerled stood above him now, his eyes meeting the Jarl’s, with the might of his steel covered fists, Somerled stuck Kitchner’s face and watched as he fell to the ground, his face covered in blood and a thick cut.

“This is the end of your evil.” Somerled said, standing over the boy.

Kitchner let out an uncontrollable laugh, his body shaking in pleasure as he mocked out.

“You find yourself so honourable! I will just be replaced with another!”

Picking himself up to be kneeling in front of the knight, the two’s eyes met as Kitchen said.

“Get on with it then.”

Looking down at the boy, so unafraid of death or repercussions in an afterlife. Somerled raised the flyssa and brought it down, slicing behind the boy’s neck and piercing through his body.

Retracting the blade, the Kitchner’s body flopped onto the ground with a pool of blood forming sinking into the rug below.