The stillness and quiet of the night seemed a great contrast to the fury and horrorific violence of the previous day, the shadows softly wrapped the armored figure of a man as he settled for a while his back against a small outcrop of rocks.
His heart thumping still, fueled by the razor edge of adrenaline which was too often all the difference between life and death in the hell of blades, fangs and claws that had filled the day before. Dust caked his face and the hardened plates of his armor, streaked all over by runnels of sweat and blood, some his own, more of the foes, giving his visage an odd look where it cut through to reveal the gleaming plate beneath.
Resting, there was no time allowed for it, as duty remained still to be satisfied. He took a worn shovel and cut a shallow gash in the earth. Grunting with the effort of forcing tired muscles to work, beyond the limits of what they should, he rolled the now cold body of a young succession soldier into the tiny trench. Heaping a small cairn of stone above the corpse, and few short words of prayer "Great Gold, carry the soul of this young man away on your wings, and look upon him in a favorable light. He fought bravely by my side and that of his brothers. Your will be done Lord."
The sun is rising, red through the haze, and a breath of wind stirs the air, but instead of carrying relief to the weary, it brings the sound of the enemies weapons clinking, their voices quiet, but the language wrong, alien and full of hate. My enemy is coming...
A moment taken to hold the small gold pendant of the dragon and mutter "Lord, may your wings shield me this day to come.". Dusting down the emblem of his shield so that once more it shines as a beacon to those around, his weary arm given new life as it holds his sword once more. His voice a clarion to the weary soldiers around him "Get ready boys, the cursed cult is coming once more, lets give them a taste of Succession's steel.". Sword and shield ready, the wind whipping the dust at his back, the knight of the wyrm prepared to meet the charge of his enemy.