[hider=My Hider]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fEFAMMq5S0k
[/hider]


The fog rolled into the King's camp. It bustling with activity, soldiers moving and preparing around, a hectic chaos of clattering in weapons over the field in which they had camped. Tents came down as quickly as men started to run into formation for marching. 

A horn sounded in the distance that set the entire in on edge. Another came from behind, the side - all around, sounding almost like the cry of the damned as they echoed through the camp that was quickly struck within a blizzard. The fog swirled as snow began to pour out from the heavens as heavily as it could, yet there was no wind as it snowed; the wind around here had passed long ago, creating a still, chilly environment. One that was on stand-still, on either side was moor-land and for a hundred miles in all directions even if villages dotted all over the place, in-between cities and roads. It is there the final horn sounded.
The Northman replied with drums, blood-curling drums that sounded the coming of the deep. Thunderous booms echoed as more and more drum-men broke into their chorus. A man, at the front gates watched. He watched as hundreds of riders emerged from the mist and slowly approached, every man on horseback wielding a white flag. They came from all directions, surrounding the camp entirely in two rank deep horsemen formation, all ready to charge in need be. The men on horseback were clad in a steel plate, clear to the eye from the short distance the north-man just gaped at. They wore red-cloaks, each man to their own - some were dismounted, nigh a hundred mages wandered forward and presented their staves, though they dug white banners all around the camp - the signal of a ceasefire.

"Come at us then, ye' pricks!" One voice shouted out from the crowd of Northmen, all coming to bare weapons at the invaders. Though white-flags had quickly shot up in response. The neigh of horses arrived as a lone rider marched out from the column of riders, draped in a black and red cloak and wore a large, circular crown that radiated a white glowing, as did his right hand. He spoke as he arrived, his voice booming through the Staves of his Magi.
"I come bearing gifts for your King! An honourable gift. Come forth, King of the North. Grace me with your presence! I would look upon your face!" Enid spoke lightly though his voice echoed for miles through the Magic of the Magi in their own splintered line, a mage for every ten riders and their steeds.

It came in response as the King in Black and Red arrived at the entrance of the camp, carrying his own white banner with his own sigil beneath it. It bore a black sigil of a tree, it's leaves shedding on a red field. The King dismounted with a thud and wandered to the gate which was met by halberd men and archers - the fighting men did what they were trained for in the sight of a threat; especially one as this.

It took merely a minute for the King and his large entourage to arrive, the King's Knight's followed him on their own armoured Warhorses. King Leofric of the North dismounted to meet this man face to face.
"You're the one who has assailed my country?"
Enid smiled, digging his pole into the ground before he took off the single strap around his throat, plying off his crown to show off his face - it garnered more than a few sneers and laughs. The blizzard only grew more intense with the twitching of the man's features. "[Primitive fools.] 
His eyes turned on the King.
"I am. I hold your city and am prepared to trample you here and now. You've been gathering men to attack me. This will not do. So allow me to explain."
The young-looking man held up his hand.
"I am from a place further from your comprehension than you could possible realise. I came for one thing and he happened to be in that city. This... unfortunate mishap sparked your 'garrison' to attack my men. Barbaric, indeed. Without even a hailing and your dreaded Black Knight's wandered through the fold killing my men. And yet still! You kill more of my men." His expression darkness.
"And still, you think this is something I would accept. When my first warriors died, my brothers, it sparked a war I will not submit until I receive something akin to an apology, formally and now. With that, I will withdraw. As soon as you relinquish the wizard to me." Enid's eyes drifted to the glowing sword he could sense in the scabbard; his pale, moon-like eyes drifted towards the sword itself for a good few minutes as he awaited the response.

Silence followed for a good while as the King took a step forward to look at all the men arrayed before him, he gave a good look around and stiffened his jaw. He calmly turned back around and faced the towering, armoured figure and showed only confidence. 
"We have no sanctioned wizards in the Northlands. Whoever you are looking for is not there Although, one of them did visit last night. He told me to make peace with you - but how can I make peace with someone invaded my country without the slightest provocation?"

Enid clasped the hand around the sword at his flank, running his plated digits over the pommel before smirking in confidence. It was a battle of wits, or that is how the King of the Riders took it.
"Sanctioned? [By God.] He visited you and spoke wisdom? Int-... oh yes, I sense it. Seems we missed him by a few hours. How... unfortunate. Either way this is how it stands, North-man. I have invaded your sovereign territory. I have men ready and willing to drop your land into an un-survivable winter that will be followed by waves of blood. Every village and un-walled town will burn and everyone inside of those houses will burn also. That is what will be if my demands are not met. I will smash your force here and then smash any others that come down onto my men once more. Your city is mine and I will not allow my possession to be removed. I will break into the castle and capture all within. I already have nigh... what was it-..." He paused, tapping his chin in a cocky manner.
"Oh, yes, three-thousand civilians. Oh no, don't pull that face; I did not kill them. But you can." He leans back some and straightens his back - the men behind the King all looked at each-other and were prepared to laugh; they seemed very eager to knock down this funny-looking pretender. The King waited and valued his words, never dropping the demeanour of a proud man - he couldn't.
Leofric frowns irritably, though he doesn't reach for his weapon. "Your threats do not intimidate me, you wretch. We are no strangers to harsh winters or ruthless war. Even if you kill me and this army here, we will bring down an uncomfortable number of your own. And when you limp back to the capital to lick your wounds, others will be ready to take my place and hound you out from this kingdom."
Enid smiled and donned his crown, giving him a nod. "How amusing. You bite back. I like that in a man; a Human, no less. No matter, then. I believe I have said what I came here to say. But, my gift. How rude would I be not to bring you one." The Rider turned about on his heels and marched over to his steed to offer him the small little box that contained a mystery object, clearly. Enid brought this over to King Leofric and took a low bow before offering over the item, head lowered. Seems it was a sign of respect, in his culture at least. The men behind him too it as a sign of weakness, most burst into laughter for a second before the King raised his gauntlet - it quenched all humour in the crowd. Leofric reached for the box...

He took it in his grasp and clenched around it with his fingers, twisting it around in his gauntlets and just nodded slowly, tapping a few fingers on it. "Thank-you." He replied, thinly. It was short lived as the King bowed lowly once more and went to mount up on his horse.
"You have shown me tact, Lord. I merely tested you. I will release all your civilians to you in a day's time. You will do well do well to find them shelter. In the mean time, I will occupy your city until I get what is mine. If the Wizard is presented to me, no more blood will be shed. If not? Then it will flow like a river. A river of corpses and blood."
The King of the North stood stalwart and just stared at the box curiously, tapping a finger over the item absently as the Rider steered his horse away as did all his riders in near unison, all turning around and marching away - no man was left on the field by the time the King reached the miss. He visibly disappeared into a swirling, icy vortex in the distance.

The King of the Red Riders disappeared with his entire army. Into nothingness. Enid had accomplished what he came to achieve.