Bismarck's (attempts at) Dailies

John already knew they were too late. Smoke rose over the hill as they approached.

"Keep your eyes open. We're going headfirst into hell by the looks of it." said Lieutenant Stark gravely. John nodded and urged his horse forward. The cavalry rounded the hill and paused to observe the scene. Half the town was aflame, the front gates smashed down. John could see the remains of the guards strewn around it, and he grimaced. Lieutenant Stark drew his sword.
"For queen and country! Forward! Put the bastards to the sword!" he shouted. Hooves pounded on the earth as they charged, a battle cry rising through the air.

It was met with a terrible roar from somewhere in the village, and the Shadowborn were moving. They were mostly the armoured types they had been running into previously, but as John neared the village he spotted a gruesome newcomer to their ranks: tall and spindly, with dagger-like hands, featureless faces save for pure white eyes, their skin hanging loose on black bones. He saw one slip between two buildings as they passed through the gates and disappear into the shadows. A quintet of Cataphracts formed a shield wall, spears held forward. The cavalry crashed into them, a spear finding its way into the chest of the horse next to John's and sending both it and rider to the earth. The Cataphracts fell easily enough, but they had broken their charge, and more Shadowborn were closing in now.
"Don't let them surround us! Watch the spears!" Lieutenant Stark shouted. Light built in John's sword and he sent a lance through the head of a nearby cataphract, shattering the helm and sending it crumpling to the earth. A pair advanced on his sword, shields raised. Arrows bounced off their armour to little effect. A shot from Stark's pistol took one in the eye and it staggered, and John pressed the attack and charged forward. The other moved to its defense and his horse reared up, a lance of light lashing out and knocking the spear aside. The horse kicked the cataphract's shield, knocking it back, and John urged it forward again, slashing across its throat as he passed and watching the helm tumble to the earth.

He turned to see the skeletal horrors had returned to the fray as one leapt up onto the back of a soldier's horse with frightening agility. Its claws sank into his flesh and yanked him from the saddle; then it turned its attention to the steed, slashing downwards, the horse crying out as the blade-like claws tore ribbons from its flesh. John lashed out with a bolt of light and struck the thing in the shoulder, and it rolled off the horse and slunk towards him on all fours like some hideous insect. Another crept from the shadows nearby and swiped at his horse's leg. The claw narrowly missed, but his horse spooked and he dismounted. The thing moved silently, circling him slowly with predatory movements. John licked his parched lips, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead as he adjusted his grip on his sword. The Shadowborn lunged and he sidestepped, but the thing was quick and struck again. Claws raked along his breastplate and knocked him back a step. He tried to counterattack, but it withdrew and began to circle him again. It lunged, claws reaching for his face and shoulders. He threw up his arm and they closed around it, sharp pains lancing through his skin where the claws pierced the metal. He drove his sword forward and sank it in the thing's shoulder, then gave it a twist, one spindly arm separating from its body. It made no sound - its eyes didn't even betray any pain - and it withdrew again, continuing to circle him. A pair of gunshots rang out and the thing crumpled.

"This is bad. This is very bad." said Stark from the back of his horse, pistol smoking. The bellowing roar they had heard before rang out again and John winced. He turned towards the center of town to see a lumbering beast akin to a massive misshapen bull plodding down the street towards them. Its hide was like cooled magma, lines of red breaking the craggy black exterior, its eyes spheres of hate. The bull's horns were a massive quartet, all pointed forward.

"Merciful Goddess." John breathed. The bull reared back and roared, the sound shaking the earth and rattling John's ears and bones, and the moment its hooves met the earth it charged.