Steem Monsters Common Card Fantasy Story Contest! // Week 14 // Charge of the Silver Shield Knights

Gather round greenhorns and hear the tale of the charge of the Silver Shield Knights led by David McRoslyn on the plains of Ashford amidst the horde of the undead.

It is a story of valor and heroism. Remember these words and hold it close to your hearts to give you courage before the enemy as you lower down your visor and charge at them.

The snow has already fallen when riders from the North came to the capital. The undead was stirring and was amassing in Dead Man's point. A horde as far as the eye could see steadily streaming down invading the farms and homesteads.

All the lords were rallying everyone they could and were asking the king for support. The king and his advisers discussed the war plans and if the Royal army was going to be deployed. Several advisers were against as they needed them here in the Capital to defend when the horde comes. The north would be left to their fate as it can be repopulated once the invasion has been thwarted.

Others argued if left to their own devices would spell doom to the land as they would continue adding more bodies to their ranks if left unchecked.

Each side had a point and it lies with the king to make the final decision. Will they march north to certain death or hide behind the walls that for a thousand years no army has been able to breach.

In the end the lives of the many outweighed the lives of the few. The capital had the greatest concentration of people and it would be foolish to squander off the strength of the royal army against a horde that they would not have a chance fighting in the open field.

They will dash their bones against the impregnable walls of the capital the King proclaimed as the messenger from the north looked at those in attendance, looking for hope, a will to fight, to rescue their fellow countrymen. Yet all he saw were downcast eyes, full of shame as they were leaving the north to die.

"Not on my watch!" shouted a man resplendent in silver burnished full plate mail. The red plume on his helmet meant that this was an officer and this was no ordinary officer as this was our Grand Master David McRoslyn. Together with his eight division commanders they moved towards the messenger to ask more details.

The king and his advisers looked on in silence as David and his contingent left the throne room.

The barracks were full of activity as the quartermasters shouted orders and handed off lists to people. It would be like moving a small sized city to get the Order of the Silver Shield to march north.

Grand Master David spared no time as he ordered the Silver Shields to war!

They streamed out of the city, resplended in their silver armor wearing a grim expression. They knew what was awaiting them in the north. The crowds watched them, the women crying, holding back children as they waved goodbye to their fathers.

There was no pageantry nor festivities as they departed. They only had their resolve to protect the people from the horde.

Word of the march of the Order of the Silver Shield flew across the land. As merchants and minstrels brought word and song to every town and city along the way.

Townsfolks watched as they marched by and each place they passed through several people would heft whatever weapon they had and silently joined the ranks.

Blacksmiths, fletchers and, groomsmen carried their equipment. Starry-eyed youths out for glory and weathered mercenaries and former soldiers joined different companies.

The common folks knew that if the north fell, everything would be swallowed by the horde and so even to certain death they marched along with the Order of the Silver Shields.

The undead did not need rest nor supplies as they continued southward. Each village razed gave fresh corpses for the necromancers to animate. They were going to be a wave that would swallow the empire whole.

Grand Master David at this point continued to pour through maps and discussing with his division commanders the best place to wage war. The lords of the north fleeing from the undead and hearing that the Silver Shields was fighting for them flocked to the Grand Master and pledged their swords and lives.

He asked them of an easily defendable place and most of the lords agreed on the plains of Ashford. There were several hillforts that can be used as well as the ground that gave good footing for the horses.

Here the Order waited.

The Horde was a sea of undead with flashes of green light from time to time as the necromancers crackled with unholy energies.

It is disconcerting to be before an army so large and yet so silent. No war drums or trumpets, only the rustle of leather or metal that they wore when they died.

Then pillars of green light were raised as the undead army changed from a slow ramble to running towards the Order!

Archers let loose arrows tipped with fire, setting the ground ablaze, burning the rotting fat and flesh from the animated corpses but onwards they go undeterred by the damage. Some fall down, spent and smoldering in a lump of what was once a man, others ran on to the shields of the Silver Shield Warriors. Their shields locked together forming a wall and in between small gaps in their shields, their spears quickly darting to strike at the enemy.

"Strike hard and true!" the sergeants shouted as they aimed at the heads to stab at the brains. One by one the undead fell, trampled by their own, turning into mush. The warrriors were losing footing so they slowly moved back with shields raised and spears stabbing.

The thunder of a thousand horses rumbled as the first wave of knights crashed into the right flank of the undead. Armed with long lances, they impaled several corpses making it difficult for the enemies to move. Shortly another wave would crash against them and this time armed with maces and warhammers that exploded brain matter over their shiny suits of plate mail.

On and on this continued as the warriors held the undead at bay with their shields and spears, while the knights continued with their shock tactics.

The snow was tinged with blood and guts creating an unstable footing. The necromancers were also adjusting as they cast quagmire and curses to the knights and their horses. One company was routed as their tired horses could not provide enough speed to punch through the undead. Surrounded and cut off, people heard the screams of the dying horses, drowning out the voices of their masters as they fought on with shield and sword.

The number of the undead was significantly destroyed but they still outnumber the Order four is to one. A crack team of Paladins mowed their way to the center where several necromancers were positioned and caved in their skulls and hundreds of corpses fell with them.

All of this was not enough as the Grand Master watched. They were simply not enough to crush the horde.

"Sound the retreat" Grand Manster David had said with clenched teeth. He was angry that he could not finish the battle. It became a war of attrition as each switched from defense to retreating every few miles while the knights made sure they were not flanked.

Each defensive stop would be a wall of spears and a smaller and smaller contingent of knights doing hit and run skirmishes as they would hit the vanguard and rearguard alternately further whittling down the enemies numbers.

The horses were being rotated but the knights kept at it until they had to strap on the lances. The Silver Shield Knights continued to fight with broken arms and cracked ribs because the land needed them.

Honor demanded that they fight to their last breathe. By the edge of the Great Forest of the east, the strength of the Order was spent. They knew they marched to their deaths but wanted to ensure that they removed as many enemies as they can before it hit the capital.

Atop a hill he addressed the remaining Silver Shield Knights. He already ordered the warriors and Paladins to escort the remaining civilians to the capital. He entrusted the survival of the Order to them.

He would be making his last stand on this hill. He bid his squire to bring his letter to his wife and child. To tell her that he died honorably protecting the Empire.

He raised his visor for all the men to see. This is your Grand Master taking one last charge against the enemy. He fought alongside his men, shared their pain, their thirst, their hunger througout the entire campaign.

He bled alongside his men, rallying them when they were at their weakest and ready to buckle. Jumping in to bolster their gaps. He fought where it was the heaviest, felling several Necromancers and Undead Priests.

He endured curses and weakness spells, never dropping or slowing down as he rallied and inspired them to push forward and trample the enemy.

Sword in hand, he hacked and slashed as he wheeled for another charge. Again and again as his war steed dripped blood from several cuts and bites when at last it fell dead.

Undeterred he loudly banged on his shield and taunted the enemies to come at him! To the last man our Grand Master David fought on. Poisoned, cursed, bleeding in several areas, his armor dented and covered in gore.

His proud nature would not let him kneel to an enemy so he stood there and waited for the end. He looked up to the heaven and said a little prayer. Eyes closed he never saw the bolt of unholy energy blast him.

Thus is the end of our Grandmaster David McRoslyn. The lone remaining necromancer approached his body determined to turn him. What irony it would be to have a protector of the Empire storm the capital as an undead minion!

Yet the heavens heard his prayer and an Angel of Light descended first blasting away the necromancer, felling some animated corpses as well.

Flying and protected with holy aura it rained destruction on the remaining undead. The horde was finished. This invasion a failure! A triumph for the Empire! Yet it came with a great cost.

The Angel of light carried our Grand Master with reverence. It flew over towns and cities towards the capital.

Landing here in the very stone that you now stand, gently setting him down, softly crying she wiped the blood off his face with her garment. Seeing his body, I began to cry, I felt a hand touch my shoulder and I saw the master of the novices crying as well, sharing in my pain. I saw all my brothers crying as we did not hold back the tears and grieved for the iron price paid by our Grand Master.

I remember seeing the king arrive and cry as well for not just losing a commander but also a friend. He gave posthumous honors to Grand Master David and declared the Order of the Silver Shield Knights as protectors of the realm.

We are the vanguard against the darkness. We are the sword and shield of the Empire. We strike hard and true!

Remember this as you start training to be part of the legacy of the Order of the Silver Shield Knights.

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Flavor Text:

"We are the vanguard against the darkness. We are the sword and shield of the Empire. We strike hard and true!"

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This is my entry for the Silver Shield Knight Steem Monsters Common Card Fantasy Story Contest! // Week 14 // 10 Booster Pack Prize!

I drew inspiration on a lot of stories. I was thinking of a militant order like the Knights Templar, of protecting the weak.

I also thought of Game of Thrones as the White Walkers marched to the South and the North was left on their own. Well they had Daenerys' and her dragons but if you watched the last season you know how that turned out.

The Angel of light was somehow like that instance only David did not get saved.

David McRoslyn I actually drew some inspiration from a Steemian, Dave McCoy, who was known as The Rallier as his Steemit card. I changed the last name to McRoslyn as still part of the Knights Templar and the Rosslyn Chapel in Scotland.

Taking cue from his ability Inspire I tried to incorporate how his tale would be an inspiration to Silver Shield Knights who in turn will also inspire in the battlefield because they have a certain standard.

This was by far my most enjoyable Steem Monster story writing.