The wind blew rank. The stench of decay, ash, [i]evil[/i] heavy on the breeze. Daniel of Columbia savored it. It smelled just like home. If there were any higher powers watching this, he supposed it was a small kindness, a little favor in the face of the incredible bloodlust radiating from up ahead. He adjusted his grip on the sword in his right, hefted close the shield in his left, and turned to face the source of it-- a miasma of hatred that washed over him like heat.


"It really is! A f***ing knight, walking around in this day and age." He called out to Daniel, "Hey, Sir Shitsalot, you get lost looking for the Jabberwocky or something? Don't tell me you came to slay the big mean dragon!"

Daniel waited, silently.

"Tell you what, I'll let you live if you get down on your knees and sacrifice a virgin. Unless, of course, you are one, in which case, [color=9e0b0f]DIE![/color]"

It literally unsheathed a pair of wicked looking blades from its back, and stood as menace incarnate. It's scales were the color of gore, it's expression crazed like a warlord who'd gotten too old for his skin. Daniel smiled beneath his helm as it babbled meaningless insults. This was truly perfect. The reason that Daniel had become a knight. He gathered his thoughts and primed his muscles in preparation for battle.

"Verily, a dragon yonder," he spoke, almost to himself, "By Washington, may my blade strike true. And make thee pay for thy sins."

Daniel charged at full speed with the shield Destiny at the ready, closing the gap between him and his foe in the time it takes to gasp.