Jerusalem, 1178 AD


It had been nigh on ten years since the King had left the city under arms. To do so would mean death for him from his disease, but the Kingdom was under its greatest threat, and so the King marched forth to join the armies in the north. At the head of the column, the King could not help but feel sad as he passed through the city gates. He his city as he loved none other, but as he went through the gates, he knew deep down that he would never see the city again. As he looked back on what he loved for the last time, a tear ran down his face. Turning away, the King began his march north and the last march he would ever take in this world.