Quay Lionfury
Lighkeep
Quay's steps echoed through the sleeping halls of the Palace. Despite the Palace being spick and span at all times, Quay could smell death in the air, he knew that he was just apprehensive, the 'death' that he smelled was dampness that the rain brought which hung thick in the air.
Quay sighed, his dream played over and over again in his head. Trance in flames, the Kingsguard dead, and his father kneeling before the Overlord, a blade deep in his stomach. Quay shook his head in defiance, coolness was his birthright, dwelling over the impossible would do him no good.
Quay found the Armory fairly quickly it's iron double-doors oh so familiar to him. The guard that stood at the door bowed low and opened the door for Quay.
"My Prince." The guard said through his helmet, head down.
Quay simply nodded, despite the fact the guard wouldn't see him do it. He quickly walked past the guard and stepped into the Armory, the wooden floors creaking under his weight. He walked among the rows of weapons, hundreds of weapons, all made for the war effort. Quay picked out a random
Rapier, it was wicked sharp, and it's cold steel glistened in the dim light.
"This will do." Quay mumbled to himself despondently.
He quickly left the Armory and waved for the Guard to close the large door. As he walked away from the Armory the deep, grutle voice of Rouen stopped Quay in his tracks. It was the Kingsguard job to protect the Royal family, the man had every right to be concerned and know about his whereabouts.
"Can't sleep, decided to practice my sword play in preparation for tomorrow. Quay said, raising up the blade for the Kingsguard to see. Quay had known this man since he was a baby, and yet, it never ceased to amaze him how he still lived, the man was and old timer when he was born apparently.
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