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Sirius had found the day's events beyond boring. The world had turned slowly, dooming him to wait for what had felt like a lifetime for some commander or another to finish the same speech he heard every time he was required to attend a ceremony. Valor this, honor that, loyalty here, fiends there, and so on. In all honesty, Sirius found himself rolling his eyes at this young upstart of an officer. Before long he’d be replaced by some other stiff which would, inevitably, give the same speech styled with his own tongue. Thankfully, he was finally permitted to leave after shaking a few hands and kneeling at a few heads. He was surprised they hadn’t gotten the knights to lick their boots after all these years.
Sirius was set to go bandit hunting sometime this week, but his patrol was along some scenic routes which he had detested. Sure, he was getting old, but he hadn’t yet been reduced to a few steps per day. In fact, he could still outrun some of the younger knights. Irilean nobility had really been slacking lately. Maybe it was a sign that their militaristic views were slowly curling up like a spider does when it dies, but an old soul like Sirius knew better. If anything, the sudden ineptitude of the younger generation would spur a renaissance in their militaristic order. At least they’d have good knights, he supposed.
The Capital had plenty of places to provision oneself for an adventure, and this amount was tenfold for any knight worth his weight in salt. But Sirius himself had developed certain relationships with a few folks, so he always found himself being ripped off by a friend instead of checking out any of the new places. His path often took him through the market square, though he seldom found himself lingering for too long. Today was supposed to be no exception, but apparently the cruel hand of fate had deigned to amuse him today.
Some cretin had insisted on yelling in the market square. Such a thing wasn’t rare, but this wasn’t some cheap merchant trying to draw you to his stalls or some crier boy informing the masses of the outcome of some battle or another. Instead, it was one of those fools who seeks to duel a knight that crop up every few years. Most of the time they’re seeking mastery, but they only find humiliation. Still, it was probably something best ignored.
Well, that’s what Sirius had assumed until he saw who the pair of lungs belonged to. Or, more specifically, how she’d just smashed some poor lad into the ground. He couldn’t help but bite his tongue as a laugh began to well up in his gut. Of course, if he’d seen it, that’d mean that the guard were probably on their own way. This poor girl wasn’t looking for guards, she was looking for a knight. He pondered for a moment before remembering some line about a knight always heeding a call, then figured he ought to heed the call before him. But maybe he was just making up some excuse to intervene. Either way, Sirius made his way to the scene, arriving just a few steps ahead of the city guard.
“Aye, I’ll handle this lout for you. She was calling for a knight, after all.”
His authority was clear enough, but his tone was less imposing and friendlier. He was trying to signal to the guards that he’d take care of it because he was off-duty, and they ought to watch out for bigger threats. He wasn’t sure if that was clear, but he succeeded in taking over the situation. When he received the all-clear, he helped the victim of this poor village girl up and sent him on his way with a light kick to the rear. He had no intentions of punishing someone over something so small, but there must’ve been a reason she called for a knight. And besides, her show had pulled him away from some of the mind-numbing monotony of the day.
“Aye girl, why are you hollerin’ for a knight? And moreso, why’re you flipping men on their backs? It better not be a duel you’re hopin’ for. Too many promising knights waste their lives like that, and I’d hate to wind up as one of them.”
Sirius offered his mouthful with a slap to his belly, but his stance remained guarded. If it really was a duel he needed to be watching out for, then he couldn’t afford to let this girl catch him off guard. His posture was clearly defensive, while still carrying an air of practiced civility.
“You’ve called for a knight, and honor demands I heed the call. Sir Sirius Omul, at your service. Might you have a name, too?”
Sirius was set to go bandit hunting sometime this week, but his patrol was along some scenic routes which he had detested. Sure, he was getting old, but he hadn’t yet been reduced to a few steps per day. In fact, he could still outrun some of the younger knights. Irilean nobility had really been slacking lately. Maybe it was a sign that their militaristic views were slowly curling up like a spider does when it dies, but an old soul like Sirius knew better. If anything, the sudden ineptitude of the younger generation would spur a renaissance in their militaristic order. At least they’d have good knights, he supposed.
The Capital had plenty of places to provision oneself for an adventure, and this amount was tenfold for any knight worth his weight in salt. But Sirius himself had developed certain relationships with a few folks, so he always found himself being ripped off by a friend instead of checking out any of the new places. His path often took him through the market square, though he seldom found himself lingering for too long. Today was supposed to be no exception, but apparently the cruel hand of fate had deigned to amuse him today.
Some cretin had insisted on yelling in the market square. Such a thing wasn’t rare, but this wasn’t some cheap merchant trying to draw you to his stalls or some crier boy informing the masses of the outcome of some battle or another. Instead, it was one of those fools who seeks to duel a knight that crop up every few years. Most of the time they’re seeking mastery, but they only find humiliation. Still, it was probably something best ignored.
Well, that’s what Sirius had assumed until he saw who the pair of lungs belonged to. Or, more specifically, how she’d just smashed some poor lad into the ground. He couldn’t help but bite his tongue as a laugh began to well up in his gut. Of course, if he’d seen it, that’d mean that the guard were probably on their own way. This poor girl wasn’t looking for guards, she was looking for a knight. He pondered for a moment before remembering some line about a knight always heeding a call, then figured he ought to heed the call before him. But maybe he was just making up some excuse to intervene. Either way, Sirius made his way to the scene, arriving just a few steps ahead of the city guard.
“Aye, I’ll handle this lout for you. She was calling for a knight, after all.”
His authority was clear enough, but his tone was less imposing and friendlier. He was trying to signal to the guards that he’d take care of it because he was off-duty, and they ought to watch out for bigger threats. He wasn’t sure if that was clear, but he succeeded in taking over the situation. When he received the all-clear, he helped the victim of this poor village girl up and sent him on his way with a light kick to the rear. He had no intentions of punishing someone over something so small, but there must’ve been a reason she called for a knight. And besides, her show had pulled him away from some of the mind-numbing monotony of the day.
“Aye girl, why are you hollerin’ for a knight? And moreso, why’re you flipping men on their backs? It better not be a duel you’re hopin’ for. Too many promising knights waste their lives like that, and I’d hate to wind up as one of them.”
Sirius offered his mouthful with a slap to his belly, but his stance remained guarded. If it really was a duel he needed to be watching out for, then he couldn’t afford to let this girl catch him off guard. His posture was clearly defensive, while still carrying an air of practiced civility.
“You’ve called for a knight, and honor demands I heed the call. Sir Sirius Omul, at your service. Might you have a name, too?”
