Kaathe continued to look out. The cultists hadn't quite come close to the village yet. Still, he saw something. Something that, at this point, just didn't surprise him. The dark elf laughed quietly at the situation.
"Look at that..." mumbled Kaathe. "Famous knights are just popping up left and right...It's beginning to make me feel inadequate..."
Kaathe stayed where he was, waiting for Bartuc to come closer. As he did, he replied,
"One of the monsters of the Order knows of me? I wonder if I should take it as an honor, or a cause for concern."
Bartuc CrestFallen...a man whose surname had no business associating itself with. The large Templar was not even a bit crestfallen. In fact, he seemed more likely to embody the opposite meaning of the word, in Kaathe's opinion. This man was brash, just, and had a habit of just charging in swinging. Kaathe had heard quite a few rumors about him. Usually ones that detailed the damage and carnage caused by the man, but there were a few that spoke of his more heroic actions.
It was a miracle for a man such as Bartuc to have survived, given the rumors, but if they were true, then Kaathe could see the man running to his death soon. It wasn't Kaathe's problem, though. A monster can always be killed by something. If Bartuc chose to die charging at everything, then Kaathe would allow fate to decide what would happen.
Bartuc had finally come close enough for a proper introduction. He asked Kaathe a question, to which the dark elf responded in his calm voice,
"If you're looking for someone to lead you, then Knight-Captain Sunderland is at the Inn. Quite a few other knights have gathered to her. Some just as well-known as yourself."
