The Knight on horseback formed a strong contrast against the surroundings as the light withdrew and the shadows grew in it's absence. His polished plate and helm reflecting the white of the snow on the ground and rocks, the faded and once bright heraldry adorning his shield strapped to the saddle of the powerful Warhorse below him, and the Warhorses own barding contrasting with the gloomy and drab land they found themselves on. The sword held firmly in a scabbard at his hip, and the notches and minor dents across his armour told those that looked, that the Knight had seen combat and battle. Those that traveled with him, knew him as Angriff Kalstan.

The leather underside of plated gloves clutched the reins of the powerful steed. Angriff pulled on them lightly as the village of Yorrick loomed closer. Past the village lay the Valley, and their quest. But he felt weary after the days travel and the village of Yorrick sounded a fine a place to stay and rest, and gather supplies as any.
[b][i]"Quaint little place, isn't it?"[/i][/b] He heard a voice accompanied with sarcasm ahead of him. No doubt belonging to none other but Jorn, sometimes it seemed the man just talked to fill the already heavy air. Which wasn't entirely unwelcome on such a long and arduous journey as the one they had undertook. One hand absently patting the flank of the Warhorse that had carried him thus far. His gaze fell to the surroundings, taking in the snow covered lands. It seemed peaceful here, far away from wars and politics, if a little off the road. However, if rumors were to be true, the valley beyond was now the nest of vampires, and if left unchecked would cause chaos. Which was why they where here, to find the swine and end their pitiful life on this realm should they be present this far north.

During the journey, Angriff had become acquainted with most of the party he was travelling with, some returned the friendliness displayed by the knight and as expected some did not, their reasons being their own. After all, he had to know whom he could trust with his life, and theirs with him. He'd formed an especially strong bond with the priestess, Azalea Crowe whom he held in the highest regard and trusted more so than the rest. To be able speak the words of the most graceful Fair Lady was a feat indeed and gave the knight courage, knowing that the through Azalea the Fair Lady walked with them. 

When they'd finally arrived at the gates of Yorrick, Angriff watched the large man and his group who'd come to meet them before the gates, one hand resting on the pommel of his own blade as he did so. However, his attention was quickly drawn by the man bearing his child running down the hill side, a call for [b]"Help"[/b] ringing down towards them. Needing no other incentive, Angriff kicked the horses flank sending it into a run towards the hillside, his armour rattling and jingling the way only a heavily armored knight on horseback could as he joined Zoltan at the foot of the hill. He glanced at the man and his horse, before tugging on the reins sending his horse up the hillside, here the snow was deeper but the Warhorses powerful legs pushed through the snow making it's way up the hillside although at a much slower rate. One gauntlet outstretched as he made his way closer towards the man, whether or not they would meet each other in time, only fate could tell. 
[b]"Take my hand, quickly!"[/b] He shouted, intending to pull the man up onto his horse.