He comes out of the mist, a dark shadowy figure. A lump umder one arm and mighty battle axe under the other. As the mists part more detail can be seen. His armor is the color of blood, as is the shield at his back. The Battle axe is a full four foot long with with a nasty hook on the end and a huge iron ball on the other. Truely a masters weapon. The figure stands as tall as a large horse with broad shoulders, built up from long hours of axe practice in the weapons yard. A large straight scar runs down the right side of his face, starting above the eye and running down to the bottom of his jaw. The mark Left from the tip of some sword from the far past.
The figure stops and peers around... His eyes cool and piercing. He speaks and his voice rumbles. "Anyone up for some Turnip Beer?" Why's everyone standing around peering at that pathetic little figure of a bedraggled knight?" " Hey isn't that Jerome. You all know the one, goes this way and that, good and evil." So which is it today? Evil I see. Some one is going to have to teach you a lesson. Maybe we could get Cloudmama to come here and spank your little butt and put you on the right path."
"I thought we was going to have a fight not a spankin!"
"Oh well BEER'S ON ME! Come on everyone."
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