Death of a White Knight
Red had heard the stories of course, they all had. She was a legend even amongst her nation's foes, a terrible bogeyman unleashed on the imaginations of stalwart recruits eager for glory, and oblivious to the swift death that awaited them at the slightest mis-step; she was a reminder that death would take most of them, the reality of their service given a fearsome form.
Roberta, the Black Knight!
Now, the young redhead lay beneath the blade of that very bogeyman. She'd witnessed Roberta cut through her friends, sending them shrieking to the ground one after another with a clatter of metal, and the hollow clang of their unbloodied blades! She trembled, as any in her position would, but as she slowly turned her head to look behind herself, she felt something more.
She had heard stories of Roberta's many victories, standing tall above her vanquished foes. And now Red found herself beneath Roberta's boot, a victim that would serve to feed the woman's legend.
'Did you hear? She killed 6 knights single-handedly last week!'
'They didn't stand a chance!'
'Sure hope I don't run into her..."
The gossip and tales of Roberta's feat thundered in Red's fear-strapped mind. Humiliation bloomed hotly in her cheeks, and she awaited what came next...
Roberta smirked, lifting her blade, "Now then, what was I here to do again...?" The words were not meant for Red. Roberta's gaze had already lifted, turning her thoughts towards the next step of her mission as her blade plunged down, and Red's scream echoed heavily across the ramparts...