Sinking to his knees, a hundred feet away from the portal through which he could see the lush evergreens of the northern Swordcoast, his chest heaved as he panted for breath. Korm wiped the sweat from his eyes, swallowed and that's when he heard the crunch of gravel behind him. Cautiously, he turned and eyed his adversary, his predator and the killer of the rest of his party.
Sitting astride a huge nightmare, whose coat was blacker than any deep tunnel Korm had seen, was the death knight. The nightmarish mount pranced and neighed, smoke and embers blowing from it's nostrils as it caught scent of it's prey. The knight easily brought the creature under control, and just sat there, with his lance raised, peering at the broken dwarf with his floating, bloodred eyes.
With a immense sigh, Korm drug himself to his feet, his plate mail already battered and beaten from previous bouts with the specter. The Seven Blades had found no treasure on this excursion, only pain and death. The stout warrior readied his shield and spear, spread his feet and took one last look at the portal. "Clangeddin, Father o' battle, I'll be comin' to ye sooner than I expected," Korm muttered under his breath. To the knight, he cried, "C'mon you bastard!! Let's not make a mess of it!!"
The death knight lowered the visor of his helm, a beautifully crafted piece that, with the visor down, made the glowing red eyes seem to peer from a dragon's gaping maw. He lowered his lance, that deadly blade that had killed 3 of Korm's party, and almost tenderly, touched his spurs to the nightmare's flanks...