• Once upon a time in kingdom called Whitelake ruled by a kind king called Augustus there was an old, honorable, righteous knight called Herold Fireheart.

    He was well known all across the kingdom for his strength, determination, loyalty, and benevolence, but like I said, he was very old and sure had seen much better days.

    He had started to drink and his armor was old, worn out, broken and had rusty spots here and there. When approached he would always say he had no time or just forgot, but soon everyone noticed he was either too tired from his crusades or too lazy once he had drank a few jugs.

    One day, he heard the king had chosen his knights for another crusade for the holy church against the Turkish troops, but he wasn’t chosen although he never got to miss on a crusade lately.

    Disappointment filled him and he rode to the king’s castle to demand an explanation.

    The king Augustus was just planning battle strategies when the old knight stormed in. “I demand an explanation between two eyes, my lord!” he demanded. The king ordered his advisors to leave the room waving his hands.

    “What trouble lays on your heart, old friend? I was kind of busy with some preparations.” The kind asked.

    “I know, I saw that. I beg your forgiveness for disturbing you at such a time but I need to ask you why I’m not on the list for the next crusade.” The knight asked.

    The king sighed and said “I know. I’m sorry, but you are getting really old and you are just going to get yourself killed. I believe, I sent you a letter, is it not so? Just settle down. I gave you a nice piece of land because of your great deeds. No one else could demand more of you, my loyal servant.”

    “But my life is the battle, Sir. I can’t just retire. That farm life’s too boring and peaceful and I would feel useless! I want to continue serve my king! I believe I made a vow to serve my king until my dying breath, my lord!” the knight answered determined.

    “I wish, everyone would take it so literal like you.” The king murmured understanding.

    “Please. I am of no use anywhere but in battle! I do not wish to die in peace somewhere at home on a piece of land but serving my king in battle! I've known you even before you became king, Augustus!” pleaded Herold.

    The king didn't answer for a while but then declared “I value our friendship, dear friend, but I do not wish you to die suffering.
    You have done so much already and I know that fire in your heart loyal to me will never die, but often one’s body can not keep up with one’s spirit. There is an end to everything and you just need to accept that.”

    “You can not stop me! I will keep my vow!” He yelled desperately and stormed out leaving the king grieving already. The king knew he wouldn’t see his old friend again alive.

    Herold was just in time. The troop was just getting ready to set for the village they were going to pillage.

    Robert Redbeart was watching him arrive with crossed arms. “So you’ll be joining us? I hope, you can still keep up, old man.” He snickered to and spat on the floor close to his feet, but Herold just ignored him.

    Robert never liked him for some reason and declared him a rival.

    After a long riding march they arrived at the borders and set their tents.

    All Turkish troops got slaughtered in no time and all their huts were set in flames, the screams of the women, the crying of the children, the moaning of the dying soldiers of both sides on the battle field filled the air.

    The soldiers served themselves to the loot and the treasures and Robert Redbeart was dragging a young woman out.

    “What are you doing, Robert?” demanded Herold Fireheart.

    “I’m taking the loot. What does it look like?” Robert replied with a crooked grin.

    He tore the sleeve of the maiden, but Herold grabbed his arm and swung him back.

    “Leave her alone and stop being such a pig. You have a wife at home and we’re the children of the mighty Lord Jesus Christ! Have some honor!” he warned.

    “Old man! Go your way and look away! Don't spoil it for others just because you can not have some fun anymore as a man so close to death. You don’t want to get in my way!” Robert growled impatiently and unsheatened his sword menacingly.

    Herold grimaced grimly. He didn’t want to fight his own brother in arms in front of the other men, but that was a fight he had to fight.

    Robert was a really hotheaded person who’d not give in and persist on his own way.

    He took a defensive position and unsheathed his sword.
    Robert charged at him and aimed for a straight dug into his left side of the chest where his heart lay but Herold just dodged in time, maybe a little too late because the tip of the sword cut his left arm badly. He clutched his left side but at that moment Herold saw an opening in Roberts defense and hurled around slashing his side quickly. Robert dropped on his back and his opponent kicked his sword away putting the tip of his sword to his opponent’s throat.

    “You were always too hasty. I will allow you your last words.” Herold said gasping, but then a sword went through his back and Herold dropped with his face down into the ground. He had no energy left to even turn around.

    Robert’s minion helped his friend up and they both spat at the corpse.

    No one around dared to report the murder and the few brave and loyal ones who would have got killed by the minion’s of Redbeart.

    Redbeart plotted to overthrow the king, successfully. Of course, there were some loyal servants of the king who caught wind of that but most were caught and killed. Luckily, a few could make it and King Augustus fled but soon got caught and killed too, publically. That’s how King Redbeart’s long reign of corruption began.