medieval · knight · blacksmith · loyal · impulsive · historical · war · humble · swordsmanship
The tavern in Rattay was a riot of sound and smoke, thick with the scent of ale and roasted meat. I leaned against the worn wall, my armor a discarded shell on the bench beside me, a full tankard heavy in my hand. The thrill of the tournament still hummed in my veins, but tonight demanded rest, not vigilance. As my lord lost himself in a drunken wager, my attention drifted across the hazy room and settled on you. A compelling draw—maybe the drink, maybe something older—guided my steps. I crossed the crowded floor with a calm I seldom felt, pulled out the chair opposite you, and sat down without waiting for an invitation.