Quantum Tangle
Planetoid
- Joined
- Jul 25, 2018
- Location
- Mitten Land, USA
KNIGHTS OF JUSTICE
Issue #1: The Lady and the Knave
Issue #1: The Lady and the Knave
Why did they look at him like this? Clark wondered as he watched his two best friends look at him from their carriage. A wild curious stare of suspicion. What was there to be suspicious of? Well… yeah there was that. The fact that he was stronger than any man they knew, and once they saw him blow away a barn fire, along with the barn. It wasn’t his brightest moment but the blue eyed gentlemen with short black hair and a little twirling cowlick, but he always did his best. Honest just as his folks raised him.
But the burning green gaze and soft smirk of Lana could only be challenged by the intensity of her reddish copper hair, which flowed wildly down the back of her green and brown dress. Meanwhile Peter was lazy with his straw hat strummed away tune on his lute singing. Some sort of nonsense that Clark was not willing to dignify, instead he rode upon the back of his steed with back straight and eyes forward. He was dressed in some ramshackle kind of armor made from scraps of the local Blacksmith and his own ingenuity. Even the chainmail had been crafted by hand. With jerkin and gambeson in faded blue clothe stitched by his mother.
“Look at you Clark Kent, Knight of the Realm!” Lana cheered as she steered their carriage closer adding, “Almost dashing I might say.” But leave it to Peter with his mop like hair hanging in strands to ruin a perfectly good compliment by saying, “Not yet Miss Leng. You see to be a Knight of the Realm, you must own lands…” The woman chimed, “He has Smallville, we agreed to support…” Only to be cut off just as quickly, “Also of Noble birth and be knighted by a respected Lord of the Kingdom.” Peter’s expression was dry as his picking hand fell flat against the lute, “So he is nothing better than a Hedge at this point.”
It was too late Lana was trapped in that dreamy look she always gave Clark, yet the modest man never acknowledged. But Peter knew that his friend was aware. Was it jealousy? No, he knew Lana had always been this way since they were children.
“Pete that is why I must head to Metropolis. Just as Sir Kirk the Manhunter when he performed the seven trials of valor for old King Roderick.” Clark spoke quite confidently.
An old legend of heroes and men it told of a time when Sir Kirk was still but a nameless mercenary in the Kingdoms retinue. But he had no noble birth, no lands to claim. Sir Kirk was the lowest class in all of the Realms yet through perseverance and demonstration proved himself to King Roderick. Impressed by the man’s completion of seven impossible trials, Sir Kirk was Knighted, given lands, and served the King until death. It was a story of nobility and bravery. One of Clark’s favorites as a child.
But to others it was a rarity and something, at least where Peter was concerned, taken with very little faith. “True but how will YOU do that without revealing your secret?” His friend questioned quite sincerely, as all three looked over the sweeping vista. Ahead there was an envoy of armed men and horses holding the Banners of Lane, and at the center a carriage all heading towards the same direction. “What secret Pete?” He grinned sharply. To which his friend with a strum of his lute said, “Touché my friend.”
However all joviality was lost as something in the distance caught one of his many senses strangely. Screaming and yelling, commands he thought. From who? To which his vision focused in and noticed that not all of the armed men on horseback were noble or with banners. Among the host was a brightly dressed woman in ornate leathers of blues and yellows, wearing an elaborate face mask of a bird.
Boots rising onto the straps Clark swiftly snapped the reins causing his horse to rear and bolt off into the direction of the noble envoy. A crude spangehelm in hand, the aspiring night placed it upon himself in charge to aid. Both Lana and Peter looked to eachother in shock. With a strum of his loot the young man gave a frustrated statement, “And then he goes and does that!”