A chilling rain from the night before dampened the grass and softened the dirt. Attila, the great commander of the royal army was out on his weekly patrol of the country’s border. His horse stepping carefully, it’s hooves sinking into the sopping mud with each step. One misplaced step sent a snake hurling from the foliage toward the horse, spooking it and sending it into a panicked gallop. Attila tried desperately to calm his stead, until one sharp turn sent him flying from his mount and toward the cliff side. Frantically he clawed at the dirt, trying to get a hold of anything that he could. With one slip, he plummeted toward the bottom of the cliff. At the bottom, he lay unconscious, his arm and leg broken.