Welcome to Gaia! ::

*As a church tower bell rings an echoey sound indicating 12 midnight, a thick fog desendes on a graveyard in bretonia. In amongst the sogy grass, putrid earth and rotting corpses resting under cracked and weatherd gravestones, the screams of mortal men can be heard in amongst the ringing of the bell. I, Count Valmire of the Blood Dragon Vampires, have been awoken by a vengefull force of Bretonian Men-at-arms, knights errant, peasent bowmen and a betronian lord leading the force. Do these foolish mortals honestly belive that they can kill me so easaly? A full fledged Blood Dragon? Ha! They wouldn't have a chance in hell of killing me even when I was myself a mortal bretonian knight of the relm. I now ware Blood red armour with a gold trim shield and dragon statue on my helmet, along with a sword that has seen me through many battles. These pathetic mortals are not worth my time in battle, so I have sent a few of my falowers, the Grave Guard and Black Knights to hold them off. Still, I must admit that they have some talent as they have managed to kill a few of my white lords, and at least 2 units of men at arms have goten through to me. Still, I swing my sword and cut through their armour and flesh as if it were made of butter. But I will not drink their blood, no. They do not desearv that houner. These scum are not even worth turning into mindless zombies. No, that houner is researved for the leader of this regiment, The Bretonian lord. He smashes his way through the grave gaurd with his mighty methril silver axe and stops infront of me. He is wareing full chainmail armour with Iron Boots and an iron helmet on his head, with a red flowing cloak behind him. He climbs off his horse and calls out to me*

Lord: Foul minion of the undead, I am here to perge this beutifull land of your tainted blood. Perpare to fight me, and die at the hands of a bretonian!

Of corse I will fight you. What kind of a blood dragon would I be if I refused your chalinge?

Lord: Very well. For Bretonia!

*The Lord charges at me with suprising speed, and I do take a decent amount of effort blocking his attacks. He is a skilled one this one. Still, he is no match for me. After blocking his 6th attack and swerve past him and swing my sword down at his back, which he suprisingly manages to block. After numerouse blocks by the lord, I dive under a horizontal swing from his axe and slice my sword across his belly spewing his guts out. He cries out in pain, but I pay no attention and drive my sword into the back of his neck. As he lays on the ground, with his vains slowly draining of blood and turning the serounding pudles a deep red colour, I pick him up by throte and sink my teeth into his neck. But I share none of my own blood with him, he is not worthy of even becoming a low class thrall. I then slam his lifless body onto the ground, as rain starts to shoot down from the dark sky.*

You will make a good white lord someday. But for now, I shal let the skaven of this riegon fiest upon your rotting flesh. Fare-the-well, Bretonian Lord.

*I then slowly walk away back to the main tomb, as my minions decend back into the earth from which they came.*