Marsden probably knew him better than anyone and he was a very kind person at heart, and normally would probably have never harmed a hair on anybody’s head. Yet, at the diamond mine his family helped bring about, there was a merciless slaughter. This incident gave rise to the Douglas most everyone knows in battle. The grimness and wear in his face showed his age, along with the scars and tribal fashioned tattoos. He was thirty-five years old, one of the oldest of the Knights.
The weapon he fashioned was a large spiked ball at the end of a chain, about two and a half feet, which was attached to a hefty steel pole, only about three feet in length, that Douglas clung to, and wielded with such precision and poise, that it was any wonder that he had any scars at all. Of course, he wore no armor, only tight animal leather pants, with fur trim about his waist and mid calves.
Speaking of scars, story of the next warrior that had just entered the fray should be told. Her blonde hair unmistakable on the battlefield as the sun’s rays struck it, for as it glistened it appeared as a trailing white flame. Of course it was offset by the trails of blood that splattered through the air in her wake.
The lovely, lethal Templin. One of the two females of the Knights of the Realm. Having earned their place they were respected as Knights, and while they were employed as such they were treated as equals to the men. Templin especially fits into this category probably even more so than any of them.
For her love of the King had become so great that in a battle, in order to save the King’s life, she had taken a blow that should have ended her life. This happened not long after Marsden had been Knighted and at the time he was unaware of the history between the two. It seemed at some point Arimanthea thought that Templin would eventually become Queen because of her love she displayed toward King Jehosh Greyhawk.