[center][h3]THE MAD KNIGHT[/h3][/center]

"A knight's place is on the battlefield."

"So it would seem, the Coward and his men seemed happy enough to have another sword."

"I require a horse."

"A horse? What happened to the old one?"

"An unfortunate encounter with a sand worm in the Great White Erg. It was a valiant fight, but alas, poor Liasos did not survive."

"And the worm?"

"It did not survive."

"You fought and killed a sand worm?"

"Of course, a knight does not retreat when faced with danger, especially not when her trusty steed has been slain by a foul creature."

"Yes, well, a sand worm is far beyond dangerous. I've seen them swallow entire caravans whole."

"The Old Ones protect me from the corrupted creatures of the desert."

"The Old Ones?"

"Yes."

"Listen, Meg, you know that they're dead right? It's been centuries since they walked this earth."

"They are not dead."

"What?"

"You are wrong, they are not gone."

"What do you mean?"

"I can hear them, I can see them, they walk across the sands of the Red Desert, hidden far from the eyes of the unworthy, the pitiful lords that have lost sight of the truth, and become corrupted by greed."

Samald looked nervous, fearful and full of despair, he looked around himself with the panicked eyes of a hunted animal, mindful of listening ears, twitching with anxiety, "Listen, lass, I'd be careful what you say about any lords and more importantly, I wouldn't talk about hearing the voices of the Old Ones...they're long dead and any vile wizard that hears talks of voices is going to assume you're possessed by some desert demon and they don't let such prizes escape, not when there's a war looming-"

"Samald," the Mad Knight said, rising to her feet, "I do not fear the hands of the unworthy, the Old Ones will not let their servant fall to such weak creatures."

"Why do I bother? You're never going to listen to me, are you?"

"Not when your words are driven by fear."

"Fear is nothing to be ashamed of, it keeps you alive-"

"Fear has no place in my mind."

"They'll kill you, you know, one of these days..."

"Samald, I have known you since you were child, I have known you as I have known your father, as I knew his father before him, and his father before him. I will not stop for death, not this time, not ever again. I will forge a path free from fate and the chains of the false gods that have corrupted this land."

Smiling, she finished the mug of water that stood in front of her, "You will not sway me from the path of righteousness, old friend, no matter what the cost."

"I know," Samald replied, letting out a deep, weary sigh, that spoke of the many years that coursed through his bones.

The whispering of an ancient tongue interrupted the thoughts of the Mad Knight. Flickering in and out of existence, like a distant radio transmission, noise masking much of the true signal, but one sentence repeated, rising to a shout, a terrible shout, full of power, mercilessly loud and leading the knight to stumble to her knees as she clutched her head, biting down on her lip to prevent the scream that threatened to escape, blood slowly falling as she broke her skin.

[i]Find the [b]compass[/b], do not delay, serve [b]the Coward[/b], do not stray, find the compass, [b]Delkin[/b] knows the way, speak with [b]Sothis[/b], he remembers the [b]abyss[/b].[/i]

"They say I must leave you now, Samald," Meg said mournfully, putting on the stone great helm she carried, and tossing a bag that weighed heavily with coin to Samald, "Find me a horse, a proper warhorse, the price does not matter, but trade well."

The grizzled artificer made no reply, but nodded, pressing against the wall as if afraid that the knight errant would devour him, and cautiously gesturing towards the door he muttered a prayer to the Old Ones. He didn't have the heart to tell the Mad Knight that a horse would not be much use on the battlements of the city, at least not before the Shashul managed to storm the gates.