As the lady spoke, Carver was almost awestruck by her grace. She seemed as though she did not belong in the world around her - she was a statue given motion, a relic of a bygone, more beautiful age. More than admiration, the knight felt something strange for her... kinship?

Behind the helmet, Carver furrowed his brow at her words. "There may well be unsavory characters in these parts, milady, the sort that emerge after dark. Such a fair maiden as yourself would seem imperiled..." he held up a steel hand. "But, perhaps I am presuming. Doubtless you know the region better than I."

That was when a new figure approached, hooded, wearing a sword at his belt. A strange taste entered the knight's mouth as he approached - a sort of dark, metallic tang. Perhaps he was getting ill - that would certainly explain all the odd feelings he'd been getting today, though come to think of it, he couldn't remember ever having been sick. 

"Hail, traveler. A fine night to you and yours." He turned back to the lady as she spoke of the castle's master. "Ah! A castle for a king! Tell me, does your liege have need of a fine knight? Is there any task he needs completed? I seek a noble quest to dedicate myself to."