Weekly Expressions #2 ~TJ

Alright, alright! If you stop insisting, and if you buy me another ale, I shall tell you the tale of the NetherKnight, or Netherman as some would have him called.
You see, it is a grand tale. Perhaps real or not, we shall not know. He was claimed to be a demon or a sorcerer by some, a brilliant alchemist by others, but most of his time was spent as a fighter. I would imagine his older brother had taught him well in the arts of combat seeing that the brother was a knight before him, but his trickery was learned through trial and little error. He could see into a box and tell you it's contents without ever opening it. He pick-pocketed half of the merchants in the city by the age of 12! No fool in the city had the mind to know it was him, they set a trap for him by nightfall expecting a man, but when a child passed by, they thought nothing of it. The officials later apprehended the child and chained him to a dungeon wall... mere hours before he escaped. Twice.

It is amusing and perhaps incredible to think such a young man so clever, no?

This carried on for six more years before he was brought before a senator of the republic council to be offered a job as a spy in enemy countries. I know not what went through this young lad's mind, but perhaps it was thrilled at the offer of a challenge.
He was more than successful at his calling, he excelled! There was naught his kingdom asked for that he could not deliver.
But two months later, he went missing. His friends and administrators feared him dead, for the enemy claimed to have executed a 'spy' in their presence.

Oh, if only the fools had known they just bit themselves in their own heels!

Later, wouldn't you expect, that rumors had begun to surface of a ghost stealing valuables in the enemy's city. That, my friend, is why you make sure your enemy is dead before you report him dead.

With the information and goods stolen from the enemy capital, the home city was able to raise enough resources and organize a direct attack on the enemy country. But the enemy proved stronger than anticipated.

I believe on the field of Amarath, banking the river Craine, the home armies were met with fierce opposition. Odds nearly 7 to 1. The home armies knew they had no chance of surviving. But mere moments before the battle was to begin, a hooded man came to negotiate terms of the battle. I'm sure the enemy commander's face went pale as the ghost he was staring at. Little is known about the conversation that took place there. Some say the hooded man claimed to be wrath of the gods, but no one knows for sure since the commander hasn't been seen since that day.

To add pain to misery, my friend, (this is personally my favorite part of the tale) the hooded figure went to the crest of the hill with 32 men and had them stand precisely on the ridge, so it appeared as if there were more troops behind them, when in reality, it was a deceiving trick. The hoodman called out to his group of 20 archers to fire, but when they fired, they didn't launch their arrows all at once, as was traditional. They synchronized their arrows to form a steady stream of arrows through the sky, so, once again, it appeared as if numbers were greater than they were. Not only were they original arrows, they glowed with different colored flame and exploded in the sky and on the ground.
The hooded man revealed himself later to be the NetherKnight, and called out to the enemy that he led the undead.

The enemy ran in fear and never bothered the home kingdom again for another 500 years. Enough for a few centuries of peace. And the NetherKnight was given his title of 'Knight' for saving the country.

There you have it my friend. I love that story, it makes me smile to think of how one man's genius seemed to fool an entire army. To me, it seems too fantastic to be true, but whether it really is or not, I shall leave that up to you, my friend.

Now how about that drink you promised an old man?