*** Rated M-MA, all characters owned by Marvel, all the pics I don't own either, story is mine based around some actual historical events in the year 1480.
Road to Rome
Bartolomeo whipped his horse into a lather, blood and sweat dripped from its flanks. He’d wanted to fight, but the mission came first. Bartolomeo had sent the man-ape to whatever hell ebony skinned savages go to when they die with arrows through the eyes, but the lion man mercenary and Bushman were in hot pursuit. He was still miles from Rome and the wound received from the lion man’s spear, the craven mongrel, was possibly poisoned. Bartolomeo hit his poor horse again as the sounds of Bushman’s horse thundered behind him.
Tower of St Nicholas
Sir Percy stood knee deep in Moorish corpses, his ebony blade cleaving men in twain like an axe through kindling. But still they surged. A whirlwind spun up behind the men and settled into the form of a sneering man.
“Leave him to me!” he roared. The soldiers parted like a curtain as the man walked directly at Sir Percy.
“Sir Percy of Scandia” stated Percy tipping his blade to his foe and kicking body parts away from his feet.
“Bah! I CARE NOT FOR TITLES OR RANK!” he laughed as sand formed on him and he tripled; quadrupled in size, into a giant sand creature “I ONLY CARE THAT YOU DIE!” A wall of hot sand flew from his mouth cutting into Percy’s eyes, mouth and skin. Percy swung his sword but it was like fighting air, nothing solid to hit.
“Good job Marko, my turn” Percy coughed up half the Sahara when he spotted a man in green robes, energy crackling from his eyes and hands forming up a huge ball of lighting. The man hurled it at Percy who barely managed to raise his blade. The jolt shot him back inside the tower but the lightning ricocheted back, hitting the sand monster Marko and flash frying him into a statue of fulgurite!
Percy wobbled to his feet when he heard a familiar sound in the distance. He looked up to see Piotr leaping from the battlements, tucked up like a cannonball “THE LORD IS MOST GRACIOUS IN HIS GIFTS!”
The metal man landed on the now glass-like Marko and shattered him into a million pieces, shards flying everywhere.
“Tonight we dine with our most gracious Lord and Saviour!” declared Piotr as he emerged from the rubble and began swinging his fists at the stunned Moorish soldiers. Percy wiped the blood and sand from his eyes and charged towards the green man, slicing soldiers as he ran.
“Die!” yelled Maximillian firing bolts of lightning which Percy deflected and parried with his enchanted blade. Bolt after bolt, Percy got closer, Maximillian shrieked like a girl and turned to run. Percy grabbed him by the back of the robe and hauled him back, the ebony blade swung freely at his exposed neck.
Maximillian looked down to see a piece of steel blocking his imminent death. Percy looked around to see a purple knight brandishing a sword, saving Maximillian’s life.
“Take zee tower” he said to Maximillian “I will deal with zis”
“Sir Percy of Scandia, in the service of the Knights Hospitaller”
“Jacques DuQuesne of ze court of René of Anjou, on loan to Mehmed II”
The knights nodded, eyed each other as the slowly circled around each other, a small piece of civility and chivalry amongst a warzone.
Pope Kurt Joseph I looked at the map of the world. He sighed at the vastness of it. Slowly he turned and paced the floor in silent prayer, turning his rosary beads over in his hands. He was sworn to defend Christendom, but until word was received from Rhodes his blue hands were tied and the Papal army remained garrisoned.
“Shall I continue with the mortification, your holiness?”
Kurt snapped back from his daydream to the young man kneeling in his chambers, a blood soaked knotted rope in his hands. Kurt smiled and walked down to him and brushed the tears and sweat from his eyes, then marked his forehead in the sign of the cross.
“Yes Banner, continue. And remember, you suffer for the greater good. Rejoice in this”
“Yes your holiness” Banner grabbed the rope again, bowed his head and exhales as it slapped hard against his flesh. Twak! His eyes watered, flashed green "I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, oh Lord!" Twak! "I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, oh Lord!" Twak!
City of Rhodes
The Knights Hospitaller regroup as the Moorish forces pushed in and occupied the tower of St Nicholas. Captain LeBeau, his eye bandaged from an errant arrow, barked orders.
“They have taken the tower! Heathen curs! If they control the tower, they control the harbour! Where is Antonio? Piotr? Percy?”
“Here Captain!” yelled Antonio Rigidio as he stepped up to the line, his armour battered, dented and coated in blood.
“What in God’s name happened to you?”
“That bratwurst smelling, lightning thrower!” spat Antonio as he tossed Maximillian’s decapitated head at Lebeau’s feet “My armour for his life, fair trade!”
“What in the Lord’s name?” LeBeau spotted Sir Percy trading blows with DuQuesne on the beach, a heated and torrid affair “Archers to the wall!”
Antonio grabbed his captain by the forearm “What in the Lord’s name, are YOU doing?”
LeBeau turned at Antonio “I am trying to prevent the godless hordes from sacking my city! If Percy wants to be a knight of honour he can do it elsewhere! ARCHERS TO THE WALL, I SAID! Now take your hands off me Rigidio, before I launch you off the wall”
Antonio stepped back, partly shocked, partly stunned “Yes Captain.”
To be continued
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Merry Xmas as well!