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The Warcamp of Grimidal was clearly meant for the giant and no others. It was a multi-layered creation that spanned underneath the edge of a cliff face that jetted out hundreds of yards out above the camp. For normal men such a place would be constraining. As there were many fires in there, Lucian could imagine the smell of smoke that carried itself through the camp thanks to the enclosement of the ceiling.
But for a Giant who does not wish to have rain fall upon his skin as he slept, this was the perfect place for him. Where his men would suffer from the disease of sunless days and have their lungs rotted out through the smell of purging fires, he could simply stay in a place that could shelter his immense size.
Now that they were there, with the camp in sight, both Bok and Nightshade were in a rush.
Without sneaking Lucian could guess the scouts of Grimidal were witness to their approach. The camp would not fully assemble their forces for the coming assault for why would they bother? Lucian was but one man mounted upon a steed and Bok was still a singular Kroxigor.
Just as expected, Lucian could see a thin rank of Norscans forming up and preparing to throw their spears. Their arms drawn back, the men quickly rained javelins upon their approach.
This might have been the most risky moment. If there was a failure here then their advance would have been lost even before the Knight swung his scythe. Death at range, a dishonor that befell even the greatest Knights of Bretonnia such as Gilles the Uniter. If he was struck, that would have meant the end of his quest and the loss of Bretonnia to the forces of darkness.
Yet, with every step Nightshade took to gallop, three javelins landed to either side of Lucian. As the wind would brush against Lucian’s face the winds brushed the heads of those dreadful, unworthy projectiles. Each of them failed to score on either Lucian or Bok, both of them slamming into the ranks of Norscan Marauders within a minute of sighting them. His scythe cutting through them as the rune embedded in his chest sung with songs of devastation and Grimnir.
Fresh blood feeding the blood god’s grass, Lucian and Bok threw themselves into the camp. It would seem that the Slaves of Darkness would need to face them after all, thanks to the Blessing of the Lady.
>Thone Chamber of Grimidal
>Mighty Fire of Famine’s Feast
>Open Temple of Ruinous Ruin
