Raphael_sings
Moon
- Joined
- Jan 9, 2009
The moon was still in the sky when the knight awoke. He sat up in his bunk and blinked away the last of his sleep, getting out of bed and stretching, the muscle cording underneath his taut skin. Pulling a plain, threadbare tunic and leather breeches out of his trunk, the knight dressed and put on his leather boots. He strapped his sword belt around his waist and slid his scabbard into it, readjusting until it fell to his side just right. Gazing at his reflection in the looking glass, the knight ran his fingers through his messy red hair, trying to tame it and, in the end, leaving it be. He could not afford to be late.
"How's it going, Arm?" The knight looked over his shoulder to see that his friend had also overslept and was on the verge of being late for the early morning practice bouts.
"I've told you a million times, it's Sir Armitael to you. Now pep up your step, we don't want to be late."
As always, the bouts were intese and tested every aspect of the knights, their speed and swordsmanship, their cunning, their teamwork, their ability to act calmly in a stressful situation. It was something most men couldn't have handled, it took a different type person to be a knight. At the end, Armitael was covered in a sheen of sweat and taking deep breaths. He'd removed his tunic and was trying to let the bright sunlight dry him off.
Just then, he was called to attention. As he snapped straight, he realized that it was the king doing so and instead, fell to a knee. "My liege. How may I help you?"
"How's it going, Arm?" The knight looked over his shoulder to see that his friend had also overslept and was on the verge of being late for the early morning practice bouts.
"I've told you a million times, it's Sir Armitael to you. Now pep up your step, we don't want to be late."
As always, the bouts were intese and tested every aspect of the knights, their speed and swordsmanship, their cunning, their teamwork, their ability to act calmly in a stressful situation. It was something most men couldn't have handled, it took a different type person to be a knight. At the end, Armitael was covered in a sheen of sweat and taking deep breaths. He'd removed his tunic and was trying to let the bright sunlight dry him off.
Just then, he was called to attention. As he snapped straight, he realized that it was the king doing so and instead, fell to a knee. "My liege. How may I help you?"