Post by Strangers and Travelers on Feb 24, 2020 19:26:18 GMT -8
Ort chuckled, rapping on the armor with a bony knuckle. The thin metal produced a thin, hollow clunk at his touch, hardly the solid, reassuring sound of real armor.
"Free knight's services, eh? Well, that'll get him listening for sure. If there's one thing that man is good at, it's cutting costs and saving himself money. As for your walking stick, I put it over there with the coats."
He gestured vaguely towards the entrance, where a series of coat hooks were attached to the wall. The hooks were noticeably devoid of any coats, a testament to the inn's poor business. Day would spot his walking stick leaning against the wall, looking quite a bit more like an old broom handle than a knight's weapon of choice.
"If you'd like a horse," Ort continued, "We have an old mare out back. Not exactly a knight's destrier but she's got four legs and a strong back. She'll carry you up that hill well enough, although there's not enough carrots in the world to convince her to carry you in a joust. It'd be a bit odd to have a knight of your stature walking everywhere, wouldn't it? Don't you think, Bessie?"
This last bit was called out over his shoulder, towards the back of the inn. From outside, Day would hear a soft whinny as the horse recognized her name being called.
"She's a smart one, ol' Bessie," chuckled Ort. "I don't suppose you've got any livery, Sir Brennan of Archen? If there's nothing else you can think of, perhaps it would be best to head up to meet with the lord. I don't wish to rush you, but I fear that every moment we delay brings us closer to tragedy. Some days, it seems the wind blowing through the boughs of that tree are just whispering in everyone's ear, bringing their hands ever closer to the handles of their knives. Time is of the essence, Brennan."
"Free knight's services, eh? Well, that'll get him listening for sure. If there's one thing that man is good at, it's cutting costs and saving himself money. As for your walking stick, I put it over there with the coats."
He gestured vaguely towards the entrance, where a series of coat hooks were attached to the wall. The hooks were noticeably devoid of any coats, a testament to the inn's poor business. Day would spot his walking stick leaning against the wall, looking quite a bit more like an old broom handle than a knight's weapon of choice.
"If you'd like a horse," Ort continued, "We have an old mare out back. Not exactly a knight's destrier but she's got four legs and a strong back. She'll carry you up that hill well enough, although there's not enough carrots in the world to convince her to carry you in a joust. It'd be a bit odd to have a knight of your stature walking everywhere, wouldn't it? Don't you think, Bessie?"
This last bit was called out over his shoulder, towards the back of the inn. From outside, Day would hear a soft whinny as the horse recognized her name being called.
"She's a smart one, ol' Bessie," chuckled Ort. "I don't suppose you've got any livery, Sir Brennan of Archen? If there's nothing else you can think of, perhaps it would be best to head up to meet with the lord. I don't wish to rush you, but I fear that every moment we delay brings us closer to tragedy. Some days, it seems the wind blowing through the boughs of that tree are just whispering in everyone's ear, bringing their hands ever closer to the handles of their knives. Time is of the essence, Brennan."