The local shepard's insistence on bringing the Lord Bernard's knights to deal with his snake problem should have been a warning in itself. The town bailiff and guard took it upon themselves to eradicate the sheep eating pest, a decision they would regret as soon as the scaly beast slid from it's burrow. The serpent sprayed it's venom into the wide eyes of two of the guardsmen, who perished in a matter of minutes. The rest of the guard quickly rushed in with their spears and cleavers, which the beast's scales resisted, much like eastern lamellar. With each strike the men were doomed to wither from poison, burying their weapons in the beasts scales before succumbing or being crushed in it's coils.



The spearmen rallied close, arms presented in such a way to dissuade and punish the snake's lunges, while the remaining cleavermen readied themselves in their ranks. The serpent's last lunge caught the spear of a guardsman as the bailiff brought his cleaver down on the beast's neck.





Only four guards and the bailiff returned to town bearing the mixed news, and requesting volunteers to both butcher the beast and bury the dead. The legend spread quickly as the volunteers saw the monster dead by the husk of a great tree. The beast's skull was returned prominently displayed in the town hall.



In return for sparing his knight from their likely doom, the feif's lord granted the veteran's and the families of the fallen a hundred pieces of silver as compensation, as well as an offer of knighthood to the remaining four guardsmen.





They all accepted the offer and became known as the Bernard's Serpentine Knights, and the legend would make them larger than life, useful for both troop morale and political leverage.

