The plain stretched before them. On the horizon, dust thrown up by the rampaging hordes merged into the grey clouds.
“What do you hear, Gragnark?” whispered King Nev.
“A thousand, no – wait”, Gragnark pressed his ear to the gravel-strewn ground. “Three thousand large shoes, flapping-”
“-a cacophony of honking and hooting. My lord, I fear the worst.”
King Nev loosened his sword, turned to his few remaining loyal knights, his eyes shining with emotion.
“Men. You are loyal and brave, but today we face a foe we cannot hope to defeat. The foulest, most depraved, bloodthirsty creatures. Nightmares become real. All we can hope for is a swift death.”
His head hung low, unwilling to meet the gaze of his knights, knowing that he has failed his kingdom.
“My lord, we would fight for you and the kingdom to the very end”, cried Gragnark, “What say you, gentlemen? We may be trampled under their oversized shoes, but let’s take some of the red-nosed bastards with us!”