A blood boiling scream and the command to arm’s had held a significant spark in the soul of the golden eye’d stranger even all the way at the stables, where he lifted his head to listen to what would happen next.

	After mere moments, the stranger knew what he had to do. He slapped his palm against the rump of an unusually large snow white destrier that stood by him in the oak pillars of the stables. Leather bags caught his eye, as well as a long glinting object that laid all along the wall at a great length. A familiar glimmer shone in the golden eyes of the man as his finger tightened around the bags.

	Minutes passed and no other sound filled the ears of the stranger than those of the pounding hooves of his white destrier and the protests of rushing wind. His eyes were slits behind a thick and strange helmet and one hand held the reigns of the bit while the other couched a long lance. A long red cape fluttered behind him as he charged on top of the great white horse, giving him the view of a hero.

	Great armor covered his figure, quickly tightened with the skill of an old soldier, and yet the armor reflected the shining plates of the youth. The man’s muscles strained as his short lived charge came into fruition.

	The bodies of his comrades by chance blurred in his vision as his eyes refocused passed the roaring winds of the rush and onto a dark and evil knight. He tilted and aimed his lance, and the great weapon began to glow a white heat as he whispered words of holiness, the words of smite evil. He kicked his horse for one final rush of power and the great beast launched off it’s hinds as the mounted warrior completed his tilt and thrusted his lance forward to end the charge and attempt to skewer the evil before him.