Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » (Closed) Nights in the Dark Woodland

Zero continued to watch the two converse, impressed with the Sable Knight's word choice, and over all content to continue listening to the two speak. It allowed him to get his mind off of things. Like the fact that he was abandoning some very important people to be here and do this. Well actually he'd been abandoning some very important people for a very long time.

He could feel a light breeze flowing through the square, passing them by, and it rustled the hair gently on his head, pushing some down and into his eyes. He could see the individual strands of the ever so slightly curled strands of it. The way it flowed in the slight breeze reminded him of his land, where despite the structures everywhere, there was a constant breeze that gave a peace to the place. It made him happier than normal.

Of course, Zero couldn't parade around there like he could here. And the reason behind that was something that he hoped he wouldn't have to share. At least not soon. He'd have to prove himself to these people before they believed him when he explained.

(Hey, sorry. I'm going to have to drop. My class load is getting very heavy now that we're half way through the semester AND some personal things have come up. You're free to push Cori to the side or use her as a NPC, but yeah. Sorry again)

(Fare the well, Kidd. Was nice having ya.)

"Ah... the Lord of the Lances, thou inquirest? The Lord of the Lances..."

The Sable Raven knight trailed off into silence. The point of his beaked visor clinked against the top of his breastplate as he lowered his head in thought.

"Nay," he murmured to himself a moment later, before speaking up again, "Nay, sir, alas, I must beg thy pardon, for I have not encountered such a name afore. And I must also beg thy indulgence, for sayest thee... that thou wert once a knight, yet... art no longer?"

Sir Brandyl seemed hesitant to actually phrase the question properly, as it might well be a sore subject for the Hanged Man. Once bequeathed, the nobility and dignity of a knighthood was not lightly stripped of a man, and it would take a great disgrace or a loathsome betrayal to merit such a forfeiture. It was not the Sable Knight's place to ask such a personal query of someone he had only just met, and so he decided to abandon that line of inquiry, changing the subject.

"In any event, we have many preparations to make before the daylight fails us and our road meets our feet. Wouldst join me in assembling our little coterie, Sir..."

The Sable Knight floundered.

"Oh... Sir, thou hast not yet told me thy name!"

The Hanged Man's eager face fell when Sable professed to not knowing the epithet. He drew a breath through his nose, and when he released it, he attempted to release some of his dismay as well. Whether Brandyl knew his master's name or not, the Caradonian still was a mysterious man from the west, and might have connections or clues of which even he was unawares.

The question gave the swordsman pause. It was a bitter question, yet time had lessened its bite. He grinned his wry and ugly grin and parted his lips to offer a response, but the Caradonian hurried past that line of questioning. He cast his eyes downward, the warped smile lingering.

"Aye, sir, t'is time to--to foray into the woods, methinks, while the day is with us."

When asked for introduction, the swordsman bowed his head to look at the white bird that still made a perch of his knuckles. "I've carried many names, sir. The Hanged Man, old crow, dog ... and--and plenty others too crude to repeat in your noble presence. Call me whatever you wish, sir."

The Hanged Man looked past Sable to the other lingering members of their entourage--the burly fellow from before, the pale woman, and the man with the bright blue eyes. He dipped his chin to his gorget to greet them. "Hail to you all," he rumbled. "What needs be done before we venture beyond the city walls?"