The Stables
"Four knights..." muttered Sir Richard, none too happy about his inherent curse where he was quickly disregarded or even forgotten. For some strange reason he couldn't fathom, he was always in a situation where he was less interesting than everyone else around him. Sir Richard the Uninteresting, his title was - among the few who regularly remembered his name, that is.
"Shouldn't be that much more than a dozen." Darius explained to Marcus. Truth be told, had Lyna not stopped Cain from finishing his sentence and had Marcus not gotten involved in the conversation, the argument could have gotten a lot worse. "There's nothing to suggest they're anything more than common brigands. So long as we keep our wits about us and remember our training, we shouldn't have any major trouble. Sir Riley doesn't want to risk the lives of the militia - at the end of the day, they are just farmers, after all."
"Anyways, we best be off. We've waited here long enough. Diamond formation - I'm at the front, Sir Cain and Sir Richard at the sides, Sir Marcus at the back." He waited for the knights to form up into said formation, and then set off on his horse at a light trot, the hooves clomping on the cobbled street. "We should reach Daralt by noon!"
Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.
10-Jul-2015 23:03:06
- Last edited on
11-Jul-2015 00:43:59
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NotFishing