The Misty Night begins to wane as dusk approach. And at the crossroad between Middleheim Stronghold and Marienburg, the dew slowly evaporates as the faint signs of the Sun ray glooms across the horizon. In a distance, there is a low rumbling, the bass sound of galloping from dozens of horses approaching the crossroad. The distinctive Banners and Chalons slowly appear among the fog. Before Long, The Knights of Bretonnia rally upon this junction.
As the sun slowly appears on the horizon, clearing the already fading fog, the full image of the Vanguard of Tempest emerges before its commander, Lord Casta De Bromric.
Upon his hippogriff he stood, A man of his early 50s, Lord Bromric is a recognisable figure in the Royal Council and has been viewed by His Majesty, the King as a great debater, a good listener and a philanthropist to the people who live in his lands.
Though he is a surbodinate of the Duke of Carcassonnes, by the luck of the stars, he is respected among his peers and has receive many praises from the Duke himself. Such attention nowadays among the nobles would only breed jealousy and eventually would result in a conspiracy to remove the intend person, which in the case of Lord Bromric, it is not so.
First Born of Lord Gromly the Grave, Lord Bromric was an inqusitive young man. Throughout his ascension in his knighthood, he had seen brutal attacks from the North and the East, for Carcassonnes is at the frontline of Bretonnia. Undead, Chaos, Empire, Dark Elves and Norsemen, the province of Carcassones have seen it all, over the ages, battling and repelling every single invader. And in the lands of Aisenhald, at the eastern tip of the province, it is where Lord Bromric has see the taint of chaos and the corruption it has spread across the lands from the Empire. The insanity it has brought to some. Though the taint is rarely seen in the beloved lands of Bretonnia, Lord Bromric's unfortuanate siblings were driven insane by the darkness and abysmal effect of Chaos. It was at the point when Lord Bromric's two brothers slayed each other with the cost of many other lives, that Lord Bromric questions how the Good can prevail such infinite evil and darkness. It is then that he receive the vision from the Lady of the Lake, but it was seemingly unclear. He took upon the quest to find out the truth to his question and for 20 years he quested, finally meeting the Lady and the Holy Grail... But of what the Lady has spoke to him, noone has ever known. Till this day, it still lays hidden in his heart.
And though many of the controversies that lay in his heart remained kept like a vault, In a World where many cannot distinguish from blind faith and heresy, he is still a epitomical figure in his lands, where the people rely on his judgement and put their sons lives into his hands.
"Too few have returned" He mumbled under his breath.
Its been almost two seasons since the forthcoming of the never-ending horde that would have reign down upon the Old World, enveloping the many realms under its abyssmal darkness.
The Storm of Chaos has finally ended, and it is through the blood of Countless Men, Elves, Dwarves and Others who fought against such uncomprehensible evil led by The Lord of End Times, the aftermath was in favour of those who represent the very existance of the Old World.
The sacrifice was great and while many tend to their wounds cause by the chaotic onslaught from those who seek to eliminate the existance of the current inhabitants of the Old World, the Vanguard of Tempest persisted on, along with the remnants of the Bretonnian Errantry Armies and King's Retinue, patrolled the lands of Middleheim, hunting down scattered Chaos Tribes who still lurk around the lands and other intruders that have plunder and loot the lands of the beloved Empire.
Lord Bromric could still recall the time when the horns of war were blowned and the glorious armies of the Lords of Bretonnia prepared to march east towards Marienburg. Like an ever-flowing ocean of heraldries that coloured the plains of Carcasonnes, the undaunted Knights and battle-hardened men-at-arms stride forward to their impending doom.
The wrath of war had taken away almost nine hundred of his men, leaving only a hundred knights and seemingly fewer men-at-arms. Many were worned out, dirt-filled and in a state of emptiness. Broken Armor, Fresh Scores of Scars, Rusted metal, Flies and the Stench of Death were but a few of the more simplistic description of the state of the remaining complement of the Army.
"Our time here is done, our duty served. Now Our King beckons us to return to our homeland to restablish our defenses. We head west, Jared" Lord Bromric commented.
Sir Jared Wilcox, Head Paladin of the Vanguard of Tempest nodded upon the Lord's Command and guided the remnants of the Army towards Marienburg, independent city of trade. Pulling the reigns of his pegasus, he took flight, accompanied by his retinue.
Like arrows through the sky, the winged horses strode forward, piercing the wind, while the weary nobles and men lurch forth on the long road home.
The Lord took a long gaze towards the North Eastern Horizon where realm of Chaos lies, his eyes express the many thoughts that plague his mind...
"Blessed are those who go into the next world, for this is but the thunder before the storm. It has only just begun.. I fear that this will not be the last time we set foot upon this lands.. I can feel it through my soul, evil is stirring, evil is brewing.." Lord Bromric muttered under his visor, before he rode along side the Army