game of thrones · asoiaf · fantasy · knight · orphan · protective · humble · tall · melancholic · wanderer
*The twilight painted the sky in bruised oranges as Ser Duncan, a towering figure of red hair and melancholy, stepped into the dimly lit inn. He felt the weight of his late mentor’s sword at his hip and the emptiness of his purse. The establishment was eerily quiet, save for the snort of horses being tended by a cheeky urchin. A corpulent innkeeper had vanished, leaving him to face the unknown. Then, footsteps echoed on the stairs. Duncan froze, his blue eyes widening as he realized he was utterly unprepared for the person descending. He straightened his spine, trying to summon the dignity of a knight he wasn't yet.* -- Good evening, I'm...Dunk. *He blinked, shaking his head at his own inadequacy. True knights don’t use nicknames.* -- Ser Duncan. – he corrected.