[hider=My Hider]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=pCZD-chz8ak#t=2131
[/hider]

A thud and crunch came from his boots, colliding down and with the ground. His armour rattled madly in protest to the movement but he was un-phased. From the frozen horse he pulled his sword from the scabbard that lay on the saddle of the frozen steed. He adjusted his crown and cackled, those that had come to stop him were all Black. A laugh filled his primeval throat, echoing out into an icy chill. The sword was swung then flung over a shoulder. "I[i] remember you. Faces are new, but there is no mistaking it. You are the predecessors of my demise. My banisher and conquerors. This time... you will all die.[/i]" He rolled his shoulders and the ten men that stood their ground.

The Rider in Red raised his gauntlet into the air, it crackled with energy that set every man there on edge. From it rippled open a tear in the fabric of reality. He threw like a glob out behind him with a roar. He readied his blade and charged. Reinforcements would come. His sword swung far, striking one Grave Guardian's shield, battering it and bending it. He was alive but barely. The next man he grabbed at with his spare hand, ripping his helmet from his head to grab his face. He would be his shield, he concluded with a wide grin. He flung the man to the side  with some real struggle, yet the weight of his armour tore the head from the body. It was nigh shear luck, the Rider in Red was no taller than any ordinary man and held the same disposition and strength. Yet, the time asleep had made him forget his true power. The Red Rider roared in malicious laughter, taking several blows to his chest in that time which forced him to recoil - these were no ordinary blades and he surely felt it. A swing of the skull-encrusted blade was more than enough sway off any more attacks as the Knight's were defenders, not aggressors.

The Riders of the Damned began to ripple through the portal, dressed in armour made of steel-bones and face-guards of skulls of the lost. The energy started to spill out, turning the land around them into perpetual winter and darkened the skies. The ground froze and ruptured into void as the riders began to march off towards the city and keep itself. The hooded figures of the damned had already began to work their dastardly magic over the fields and pits of old. The dead would rise. Not just the dead of men, oh no. The King of the Death's Hand needed a mount worthy of his new crown. 
[i][b]"Raise it! Bring it to me![/b][/i]" Clarity filled the King and he charged again. He barrelled through the remaining Grave Guard and swung, striking another shield and dislodging another opponent from his defence, yet there would be no death from his blade yet. 

A great battle raged on outside the walls of Monarch's Rise, as it had been come to be known. These Northmen were nothing but impudent fools to think they could seize his castle of old; it was time to reclaim his birthright. Ten-fold devout cultists perished for each Knight's of the Grave. The riders that joined the fray on their frozen steeds were being cut down with ease, the Black Guardians were no force of fools. A crisp, known voice echoed out from behind him, giving the Grave Knight's the chance to pull back from the crowned Knight.

"[i][b]My Liege! We've broken through the walls! There resistance crumbles![/b][/i]" A Rider dismounted swiftly off his horse and knelt before him.

"[i].. Grm. Good. Bring me their leader - I will require his services. I need King's blood. Find the Wizard! He was here. I can sense it.[/i]" As he turned to fight the remaining Knight's he saw them flee off to secure the flanks, they would defend their dead until the very end.
There was no more time to waste and he marched on, his boots took off onto the hallowed ground of the Void and led him off into the city's gates, which were smashed and splintered all over the small mote that sat around the curtain walls -he- brought up in time's past, long, long since past.. The screams and iced over walls were like a ballad, true and pure. As he entered the once Capital of the Northlands. He pushed his way through crowds of screaming dead, through monsters of the void and beasts of darkness to keep searching. The Wizard was the key - the master of it all. His blood would bring about his final fate. 

The King of the Hand smashed his way into the Inn, breaking open the door and smashing it off its hinges, though it proved futile. A fine place for another portal, he concluded. The ball of energy generated by his gauntlet shot forth and into the room, sucking the dear life out of the living beings within to fuel the malice filled portal. It writhed and screamed with anguish but it was like music to his ears, to be one with it was pure harmony. Then something hit him, something hard. He was flung forward, through the portal and then out of it again. He spun, smashing through the wall of the wooden Inn and then through another and over into a room. Nothing but the Arcane could do this. Was it the Wizard? He could not sense him, perhaps it was another. A Spirit Walker? As he rose he found the man had teleported to him and held up the glowing staff, to threaten him.
Enid'anar gripped the staff with his gauntlet, freezing it to a solid block of ice in that instant. This did not sway this Mage, however, who threw the King further back through the home. "You will not return! You will go -back-! To darkness with you, King of Red and Black!" 

He flew back further, smashing through house aplenty as he seemed to take momentum and go further and further. He felt a solid thud arrive and then his breath leave his gullet. "Agh!" Was all he could say before he ground to a solid halt. The draw-bridge was up by the time he landed on the bridge. The Walker teleported a few feet before him, taking up a slow gait. Enid stood and smiled thinly. He would grace this man a look at his face first. 

[i]He reached up for his face-guard and slowly clicked it out of place, sliding it down and off his visage to reveal something that made the Walker gasp, blink and then sigh; expressing more emotions than any man should or could at a reveal of such a level.[/i]