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Description
His armor was made of black steel that when you gazed upon him sitting aloft his black steed you could see the screaming souls of hell. His razor sharp smile shined like the moon under eyes as cold and dark as a graveyard of fallen enemies on a chill night hidden by the shroud of his hood. It is said the very land were he walks breaths life for the last time.
His behemoth of a sword was forged and casted of steel made red with rust from the blood that dripped from fallen bodies, friends and enemies alike. His heart raged with the passion of destroying foes who might have grown stronger than he. He fought with impunity, knights or mercenary it did not matter to him.
The black steed, with its rigid frame and strict body, stamped the ground but barely made a whisper as it seemed to stand without breathing. It galloped so fast the only a trail of dust was viewed, only when death came to its enemies was the horse seen in the light of day.
Hist was scorched under the flame of tyranny and hatred by knights he thought were valiant and kind. Hist's village was burned to the ground by what they were told were allies. The knights turned around on their horses and turned against the people. Hist watched as his parents were slaughtered in front of him. His mother was run over with a quick and clean lopping off of the head but his father twitched as the sword went down into his body from the collar bone through the lung and out the back of the pelvis. Hist's reaction was not to cry in terror but charge after his enemy. He picked up his fathers sword and impaled the enemy in the eye, gouging out the enemies brain before putting his foot on the skull to rip the blade back out. A knight found him in the center of the village, mercilessly hunting everyone with armor down. He watched as the body went through fifty well-trained knights who were massacred so fast it seemed like a pile of bodies just grew around him.
When the boy stopped, exhausted from the fight, the approached carelessly and arrogant. He asked if the boy would become an honorable knight and use his skills in the fight for the greater good. The boy flung wildly at the knight, who conked him on the head with the but of his sword. The boy did not pass out until he was stabbed in the shoulder joint so that he would stop swinging the blade.
The boy joined the order by obliterating everyone during tournaments and many times he was called off from murdering the loser as Hist stood towering over his opponent. He went out unto every battlefield remained unfazed as no one left but him made it out of battles.
A dragon flew down upon the kingdom he was guarding, its mouth full of brimstone and leaking with fire. As a surprise attack, the dragon roared its head into knights wing sending a pillar of flame down the hallways of the keep. Knight Hist took the dragon by the inner maw and slammed its face into the brick and stone of the building. He bashed it repeatedly into the wall making sure the brains began to gush out through the eyes before stopping. He was said to be have been seen brushing dust off of his armor as he walked back to his post leaving the servants to clean up the mess.
He watched heartlessly as the kingdoms around him asked for assistance when they were in view distance and his lord said no. He watched and sometimes was seen smiling when other kingdoms were being slaughtered.
In taverns he was worshipped as the heart of every fire as his laughter roared through the kingdom. Bar fights broke out every night he was drinking and end the same time he finished drinking. Everywhere the legend of Knight Hist rested upon the ears of the innocent the fear of his legend grew even higher. Every woman laid hands on him but almost all of them knew better than to put her heart into him, every woman met him while contemplating the next battle. He went the taverns to celebrate good fights and everyday after that he could be seen swinging his blade and hardening his heart, steeling his mind for the next battle that inside. He was always prepared for every fight and every situation, he did not bother with politics the politicians were worthless to him. He was always seen saying, "Rules are just a means of control, the second you need to control something with rules is the second you have lost the fight for control."
As the northern armies clashed the walls of his keep, he alone rode out to battle to protect his lord from all harm. Inside he cared not for his lord, but for the challenging of defeating an army alone. One thousand men died as the faced his sword, each falling like nothing more than a blade of glass. He walked to the enemy keep, decimated their defenses, and took the king by the hair and forced his body whole unto a spike a propped it out into the courtyard. He selected knight who came near to besting him in his life and forced them into his service, Knight was so feared for his might throughout the land that when invaders came the went around Knight keep. Under his arms one can be glorified and hold with pride the passion of raw power and the hatred of all tyranny. The strength to bash in the teeth of a dragon and the spirit of a fighter with the heart of an executioner. Knight Hist was rumored never to have died. He fought endlessly against all who would fight him until one day he vanished into black smoke, or some say.

Description
His armor was made of black steel that when you gazed upon him sitting aloft his black steed you could see the screaming souls of hell. His razor sharp smile shined like the moon under eyes as cold and dark as a graveyard of fallen enemies on a chill night hidden by the shroud of his hood. It is said the very land were he walks breaths life for the last time.
His behemoth of a sword was forged and casted of steel made red with rust from the blood that dripped from fallen bodies, friends and enemies alike. His heart raged with the passion of destroying foes who might have grown stronger than he. He fought with impunity, knights or mercenary it did not matter to him.
The black steed, with its rigid frame and strict body, stamped the ground but barely made a whisper as it seemed to stand without breathing. It galloped so fast the only a trail of dust was viewed, only when death came to its enemies was the horse seen in the light of day.
Hist was scorched under the flame of tyranny and hatred by knights he thought were valiant and kind. Hist's village was burned to the ground by what they were told were allies. The knights turned around on their horses and turned against the people. Hist watched as his parents were slaughtered in front of him. His mother was run over with a quick and clean lopping off of the head but his father twitched as the sword went down into his body from the collar bone through the lung and out the back of the pelvis. Hist's reaction was not to cry in terror but charge after his enemy. He picked up his fathers sword and impaled the enemy in the eye, gouging out the enemies brain before putting his foot on the skull to rip the blade back out. A knight found him in the center of the village, mercilessly hunting everyone with armor down. He watched as the body went through fifty well-trained knights who were massacred so fast it seemed like a pile of bodies just grew around him.
When the boy stopped, exhausted from the fight, the approached carelessly and arrogant. He asked if the boy would become an honorable knight and use his skills in the fight for the greater good. The boy flung wildly at the knight, who conked him on the head with the but of his sword. The boy did not pass out until he was stabbed in the shoulder joint so that he would stop swinging the blade.
The boy joined the order by obliterating everyone during tournaments and many times he was called off from murdering the loser as Hist stood towering over his opponent. He went out unto every battlefield remained unfazed as no one left but him made it out of battles.
A dragon flew down upon the kingdom he was guarding, its mouth full of brimstone and leaking with fire. As a surprise attack, the dragon roared its head into knights wing sending a pillar of flame down the hallways of the keep. Knight Hist took the dragon by the inner maw and slammed its face into the brick and stone of the building. He bashed it repeatedly into the wall making sure the brains began to gush out through the eyes before stopping. He was said to be have been seen brushing dust off of his armor as he walked back to his post leaving the servants to clean up the mess.
He watched heartlessly as the kingdoms around him asked for assistance when they were in view distance and his lord said no. He watched and sometimes was seen smiling when other kingdoms were being slaughtered.
In taverns he was worshipped as the heart of every fire as his laughter roared through the kingdom. Bar fights broke out every night he was drinking and end the same time he finished drinking. Everywhere the legend of Knight Hist rested upon the ears of the innocent the fear of his legend grew even higher. Every woman laid hands on him but almost all of them knew better than to put her heart into him, every woman met him while contemplating the next battle. He went the taverns to celebrate good fights and everyday after that he could be seen swinging his blade and hardening his heart, steeling his mind for the next battle that inside. He was always prepared for every fight and every situation, he did not bother with politics the politicians were worthless to him. He was always seen saying, "Rules are just a means of control, the second you need to control something with rules is the second you have lost the fight for control."
As the northern armies clashed the walls of his keep, he alone rode out to battle to protect his lord from all harm. Inside he cared not for his lord, but for the challenging of defeating an army alone. One thousand men died as the faced his sword, each falling like nothing more than a blade of glass. He walked to the enemy keep, decimated their defenses, and took the king by the hair and forced his body whole unto a spike a propped it out into the courtyard. He selected knight who came near to besting him in his life and forced them into his service, Knight was so feared for his might throughout the land that when invaders came the went around Knight keep. Under his arms one can be glorified and hold with pride the passion of raw power and the hatred of all tyranny. The strength to bash in the teeth of a dragon and the spirit of a fighter with the heart of an executioner. Knight Hist was rumored never to have died. He fought endlessly against all who would fight him until one day he vanished into black smoke, or some say.