Sir Garrett’s horse Thunder’s hooves pounded the ground at a steady pace allowing the paladin a chance calm his mind. He always did best when he worked from a peaceful place, but his mind was out of sorts with the anticipation of marrying the Princess. Riding became a form of meditation when you did it as often as a knight. It felt good to have his piece of mind back because he saw an ogre lumbering out of the woods drawing his travels to a halt.
Hot drool spilled from the fat lips of the ten foot monster. It paused as it realized it was no longer the sole ruler of the road and rage filled it as the realization of that dawned. The ogre’s feet pounded the ground as it charged the paladin sitting on his mount.
Thunder’s years of training were showing as the only indication it took notice of the ogre’s charge was a snort of eager anticipation. He didn’t have long to wait for Sir Garrett had grabbed a lance and set it within moments of the sighting of the ogre. With only a tap of the knight’s foot the horse launched forward with a speed that seemed to ignore the rider and armor on its back.
The ogre wasn’t prepared for the laws of physics which had always been on its side to betray it so thoroughly. A lance coming at you from a steed charging at thirty miles per hour is not helpful to the survival of a living creature especially when it hits you in the throat. Sir Garrett removed the lance but found it was bent and he didn’t feel he had the time to stop and get it repaired. As it was removing an ogre from the road and covering the body took several hours of thankless work. No one besides Sir Garrett and his steed would likely know a rampaging ogre’s life had been ended with a bent lance to mark the grave, and honestly thinking of the families that would never know the loss he had ever experienced was all the thanks he needed.
Sir Garrett had reached a crossroads where he would have to decide how he wanted to proceed. The map showed a small trail that he could use to take Thunder with him. He could contact the local lizard people for help or information, and finally he could take the direct path by himself through the swamp sending his horse back to the order’s monastery.
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