No Knight

[anonromance]

No Knight Long ago, in a distant land... That's how a fairy tale would start, followed by velvet words and beautiful images on parchment, telling of the adventures of heroes. But you? You don't get a fairy tale - you certainly don't get the prerequisite knight in shining armor, whether you wanted one or not. It's the right time, yet the wrong place and the wrong person, for sure. Maybe you're being protected, somehow; on the other hand, you could be getting kidnapped. At any rate, your companion is a rough-edged warrior, a commoner, a ruffian rogue, or even worse, a savage. Will you even survive this story unscathed? Because you certainly won't get a picture-book ending or, far be it, true love...right? Comment with your character, preferences, etc. Whether you want a picturesque fable setting or something more akin to realism or a gritty fantasy world a la Game of Thrones, we've got you covered! Reply to others. Thread.

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[salvatore_underfoot]

The fireball was accident. Honest. He'd just ... lost control. A little. Forgot where he was. And that he was alone.

Not entirely alone. The others were around. Somewhere. He'd king of snuck off to make the acquisition. And maybe didn't think other people would also be after the same rare book and would maybe ambush him after he'd purchased it.

Hence. Fireball. In pubic. In front of lots of people.

And running.

Maker, he hates running.

[judgemewhole]

The market square, which was really more like a long market mall, was long enough that Norrington and his people really didn't hear the commotion until it was almost on top of them. They were purchasing various supplies - food, flint, and of course lyrium. Norrington had to keep Anamaria from gutting the first dwarf they had approached as he put forth vials of red lyrium. Norrington told her to see to getting fresh water, before turning on the dwarf letting him know he would be informing the local guard captain.

The dwarf had disappeared after that, and he had moved onto the next merchant.

He had just gotten twenty four precious little vials, securing them on his person, when the cry went out, "MAGE! MAGE!"

Screams were coming from every corner, and Norrington looked around, seeing weapons already drawn. He frowned, before he yelled out, "TEMPLARS. FORM UP."

He saw the young man running as if his life depended upon it - and for all they both knew it did. He stepped to the center of the street, pulling his shield and eying the mage. Just a boy, really, looking scared as Hell.

So he called out, shifting just slightly, "You will put up your weapons! NOW! The boy is under the Templar's protection!"

Then he grimly waited to see what the mage, and the crowd would do. The fact that he was no Red Templar should put some points of faith back in his corner, he hoped.

[salvatore_underfoot]

Sal didn't work well under pressure, as evidenced by his current predicament. He didn't know if his magic trick got the muggers to back off. But it did succeed in riling up a mob. And gaining the attention of Templars.

Everything was white noise and his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. He saw the Templars move to the middle of the street and skid to the halt before reaching them. Protection? Did he hear that right?

Bullshit.

He looked desperately for another escape and darted for an alley nearby.

[judgemewhole]

Well honestly, I should have seen that one coming. James thought to himself, but the common folk were still frozen as if waiting for a cue from him. He was considering just letting the boy run - the mob had been stopped, when he saw the rough looking characters pushing from the back of the crowd, making for an intersecting course.

Ah. Right, well. He didn't even stop, just headed sideways into the next alleyway, calling out orders to his men. One group would come up behind the muggers, the rest would follow him, they could catch them in a pincher motion and hopefully keep the mage from being murdered.

He had left his helm back with his horse, but his sword and shield always came with him in public, so he detached the sword while he ran. He skidded to the end of the alley, doing a quick review of where the mage could have gone from here.

[salvatore_underfoot]

Legs burning and breath heaving, Sal came out the other end of the alley to find himself at the back-end of a bunch of buildings tightly packed together. Something of a courtyard. Worse, it was a dead end. There were a couple of doors available, and he could only hope one was unlocked. He made for the nearest.

But he didn't get more than halfway before a shout drew his attention to one of the alleyways, and there were the ruffians who had started this whole mess. He backed away, pulling his staff free and preparing a spell. He'd already outed himself, what did he have to lose now?

And then the Templar appeared and... You know what? This was going down as the world's most shitty day. And he was probably going to die.

[judgemewhole]

James had skidded to a halt to get his bearings, but there they all were. The mage, the ruffians, and of course him. He knew back up was on the way, could hear them pounding up behind him, so he did what he had been trained to do.

He stepped up to the mage's side, lifting his shield to put it slightly in front of the mage, to deflect any incoming weapons, while he growled at the low-lifes before him. "In case I had not made myself clear before - the mage is under Templar Protection."

Under his breath, with his teeth bared, he muttered, "Make for one of the doors. I will cover your escape. They will not follow, reinforcements are on the way."

[salvatore_underfoot]

"I don't need Templar protection." He said it through clenched teeth, though sweat beaded his brow and he shook with exhaustion. Even so, he glanced at the door.

But pride - and idiocy - was not going to let him admit he need a Templar's help to escape a couple of low-life muggers. He shook his head. "I didn't ask for your help."

[judgemewhole]

"You may not need protection, and you may not have asked for my help." Was James's flat reply, "But I am not going to let you die just because you hate the uniform I wear, boy. Now, if you are going to throw your spells - do it now. I'll shield you."

Pride was a fool man's bread, that he could take his fill on until he was buried in his grave. James had no intention of being there any time soon.

[salvatore_underfoot]

He cast a glare at the Templar - boy? - but raised his staff and hand. They could argue later. He could see reinforcements arriving behind the ruffians, so he aimed an explosion just in front of them to drive them back toward the other soldiers.

[judgemewhole]

The ruffians in front of them fled backwards from the fire, but that didn't keep their archers from taking aim. James's shield came up once, then twice, blocking arrows that were aimed at the mage's head,

Then his men hit them from behind, while the rest swarmed forward around the fire. He made a grim, satisfied noise, before he pressed forward, calling out to the mage, "Keep it up, man!"

[salvatore_underfoot]

"Don't tell me what to do," Sal muttered. But, begrudgingly, he was thankful for not getting arrows in his head. He cast Horror on the men pressing forward, letting the fear spirits unleashed fill them terror. It would be a long count before he could throw the next fireball.

[judgemewhole]

Which was fine, the Templars are going to take out the rest of the ruffians. They may be trained professionals, but Templars had taken out much, much worse. And Norrington is right in the middle of it, shield swinging up to block, bash, and ram, while his sword flashed through the ruffians.

[salvatore_underfoot]

He moves back, away from the fighting. All he has for defense is his staff, and it's fairly useless when he's between spells. He could thwack at anyone who comes near, but that won't get him very far. So he inches back, watching the ruffians fall. He will forever deny being impressed by Templar fighting techniques.

He finds himself at the door, trying the handle. It's locked. Figures.

[judgemewhole]

The Templars make short work of the ruffians, and at Norrington's order, went ahead and sheathed their swords. Norrington himself put up his sword, before turned to look at the mage. Who was, of course, trying to escape.

Back in the days when the Circles were strong, Norrington and his men might have had a quiet laugh about this situation later. Waited for the mage to realize he didn't have anywhere to go, and gently would have taken him back to his tower or circle. Norrington would have talked to him about the honor of serving, that mages had abilities that could truly change the world and running away from that responsibility was basically running away from the part of him that was blessed by these gifts.

Those days, however, were long over.

So Norrington slung his shield over his shoulder, and nodded at the young mage. "Good luck to you. I have a feeling you shall assuredly need it." He nodded towards his men, "Move out."