Hector the Mad's page

was well respected by the church. He was given the honorable and important duty an eight hour vigil over the royal

sepulchres, a very rare duty for a young paladin to draw. He was, needless to say, very proud to be serving his country in

such a regard.

Until he actually experienced his duty.

His first night on duty he was alone in the quiet and dark crypt, a creepifying enough prospect on its own. Near the end

of the first hour of his watch, he began to hear what may have been whispers, just quiet enough that they may have been the

wind. Near the end of the second hour, they coalesced into the first understandable call: "Come, join us." They said. He

tried to block it out of his mind, but by the end of the fourth hour they had risen almost to shouts "Come, Join us!" they

demanded. He could no longer ignore the call, and the constant demand of the whispering voices of the dead were beginning

to wear down his resolve. By the end of the fifth hour, the shouts had transformed to a litany coursing through his brain

and entering his very being. Near the end of his vigil, he had promised the dead his very soul, and was about to plunge

his sword into his own stomach.

"Wait!" they implored him

"We require your services..."

"I live to serve" He said, as his mind shattered

His relief, marched at the traditionally slow pace to the front of the sepulcher. As he turned the final corner, he saw a

flash as Hector slashed wildly at him, gibbering unintelligibly all the while. It was a simple feat for the experienced

paladin to subdue the almost feral Hector, disarming him and pinning him down to the ground.

"Hector, what are you doing? Have you gone mad?" the paladin demanded, unintentionally providing his new sobriquet.

Hector was quietly shuffled under the rug, and disappeared entirely from the public eye. Charged with attempted murder,

Hector was sentenced to death by beheading.