Just what we need. Another knight.

[sonofpellinore]

He's not wearing his armor, though he is wearing his sword, and carrying his shield. He's clearly a knight, though, even with out it, in the way he carries himself, and the way he rides. Riding out of the woods, he frowns. The house that appears before him is not even remotely familiar. It's not even like anything that's familiar. And he isn't

Comments

[sweariwontdie]

"It has neither, monsieur. Well, we sometimes call it the Mansion."

[sonofpellinore]

"Neither a name, nor a lord, sir?" He frowns, then dismounts. "But it is such a grand house. Is it not odd?"

[sweariwontdie]

"Very, but some of us have been here for years. We're used to it by now." He looks over the man's attire. "You seem even more lost than I. I'm Armand St. Just, originally from Paris." He bows.

[sonofpellinore]

He returns it. "Sir Lamorak of King Arthur's court."

[sweariwontdie]

Armand's eyes widen. It's not that he doesn't know King Arthur's people are here, but he never sees them. Except Mordred. Sometimes.

"Oh my... such an illustrious new person. I think... that you may find friends and allies at a house in the woods where they've set themselves up. I am afraid, though, I don't know where it is."

[sonofpellinore]

He smiles a bit. "Really? I've not heard of them visiting such a place that I can recall. Are we in Wales?" he asks, picking a place at random.

[sweariwontdie]

"Not Wales, nor England nor Scotland. It's not any nation we know."

[sonofpellinore]

He looked confused. "Then...how did I ride here, sir?"

[sweariwontdie]

"Tis magic, Sir Lamorak."

[sonofpellinore]

"Magic, sir?"

[sweariwontdie]

"I'm afraid so. The Mansion is magical. It's like a fish trap. You can get in, but no one gets back out again. Or very few do."

[sonofpellinore]

"Who is the enchanter?"

[sweariwontdie]

"Another unanswerable question. The Mansion itself we believe. I think it's lonely."

[sonofpellinore]

He looks distrustful. "You do not jest, sir?"

[sweariwontdie]

"Well, I'm not qualified to judge anything magical." He nervously rubs a ring on his right hand. "But here we are, and no one at the Mansion goes without if they know where to look."

[sonofpellinore]

He frowns to himself, taking this in. "A muddled sort of enchantment, then. Has no one succeeded in breaking it? I suppose not, if we are here, speaking to one another."