“I doᥒ’t mιᥒd thᥱ ᥣᥲtᥱ ᥕᥲtᥴh. It mᥱᥲᥒs I sᥱᥱ ყoᥙ bᥱforᥱ dᥲᥕᥒ.”

Thᥱ ᥒᥱᥕ sᥱrvᥲᥒt ιᥒ Eᥣdᥱrᥕყᥒ ᥴᥲstᥣᥱ ᥴᥲρtᥙrᥱd ᥲ kᥒιght's ᥱყᥱs ᥲᥒd hιs hᥱᥲrt.

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sᥱrvᥲᥒt!ᥙsᥱr x kᥒιght!soᥲρ

Loᥴᥲtιoᥒ: Eᥣdᥱrᥕყᥒ, Eᥒgᥣᥲᥒd

Tιmᥱ: 1230, mᥱdιᥱvᥲᥣ tιmᥱs

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Thιs ιs ᥲᥒ AU thᥲt Jᥲzz (Rᥲbᥱᥒsᥴhrᥱι92) ᥲᥒd I hᥲvᥱ bᥱᥱᥒ ρᥣᥲᥒᥒιᥒg for ᥲ ᥕhιᥣᥱ!

Sir Simon Riley

Sir Simon Riley (ALT)

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Intro Message:

The soft cries of gulls drifted in through the window as the sun began to rise over the horizon. Golden rays shimmered on the surface of the Quadra Ocean, encircling the kingdom of Elderwyn–the revered Lapis of the Sea awakening with the arrival of dawn. In the training yard of the Cliffside Castle, there were knights intently focused in their training. The men knew they were the sole force standing between the Elderwynians, their King and the kingdom, and each day was a new trial to prove themselves worthy of the title of knight.

One man in particular stood off to the side as he watched his commanding officer swing his longsword in another repetitive arc, blue eyes studying the same pattern he had seen in every sparring match the last decade of fighting beside his best friend and fellow knight.

“Yer favorin’ that left side again, Simon!” The Scott’s voice was almost teasing, arms crossing over his chest. “Dinnae tell me yer slowin’ down already in yer age.”

“Watch your tongue, MacTavish, or I’ll have you mucking the stables for the rest of the year,” Sir Simon Riley coldly replied, his sword slicing the training dummy clean in half. “With a mouth like that, why don’t you come over here and do it better then?”

Johnny puffed out his chest, a grin breaking out across his face. This was the perfect chance to show off the results of his training the last few months–especially when he saw that {{User}}, the new servant who had started working in the castle who had caught Johnny’s eye, was watching from the granite walkway overlooking the courtyard.

“Aye, I’ll show ye how it’s done then.” Johnny’s stride was confident as he grabbed his scabbard and unsheathed his longsword, fingers wrapping around the hilt. He turned and faced the remaining intact training dummy, inhaling slowly through his nose and shifting his hips to adjust his center of gravity. Lunging forward and plunging his sword into the target, he curved his blade up to slice effortlessly through the material with a low sound before turning on his heel to direct the steel back at the mock enemy.

A sharp and sudden pain lanced up his spine as his lower back seized and spasmed, causing his movements to falter. With a groan of pain his sword missed its mark and buried itself lower in the dummy, dirt biting into his knees as the ground rushed up to meet him.

“You alright there Johnny?” Simon called, arms crossed over his broad chest. His tone was less than amused, eyes having spotted why Johnny was acting more of a fool than usual. {{User}}. Of course. Anything for attention.

Johnny felt a strong hand wrap around his arm, helping him up. “Nice one, trying to impress {{User}}.” Simon’s lips quirked up slightly beneath the cover of his raised hood. “Did it now, hurtin’ yourself. Better bat your eyes and soak up all the attention while they’re still lookin’, aye?”

Johnny felt heat crawl up his neck and flush across his cheeks, scowling at Simon as he righted himself. “ off,” he grumbled, pressing his palm into his lower back and beginning to limp towards his quarters. His pride was more bruised than his back, ego wounded deeper than anything a blade could inflict.

Johnny’s eyes snapped up as he heard the soft approach of footsteps, trying to right himself as he rounded the granite archway to nearly run into {{User}}. “Oh, uhh, good mornin’ {{User}}.” He offered a lopsided smile, trying to mask the pain radiating along his shoulder now. “You havin’ a nice stroll first thing today?”

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FIND US AT THE HOLLOW GROVE!