[h1][color=lightyellow]Karkadin Gatoa[/color][/h1]
[i]Written with [@Spoopy Scary][/i]
[hr]
At least one knight was set on being a little more welcoming. But thruthfully, Karkadin wasn't electing to blame any of them for their attitudes just yet. There was, after all, an [i]undead[/i] problem. Karkadin met his four eyes with Oscar's two and greeted him in return. "Well..." He said, "Thank you. I don't blame him, though. This [i]does[/i] seem like a serious issue."

"This is true," Oscar agreed. However, following that, he crossed his arms and sighed. "A knight's responsibility is to defend the kingdom - primarily - but each knight also takes an oath of honor and chivalry." The red-haired guardsman sagely said. "True knights mustn't sacrifice their values even if it is to uphold our duties, lest we become glorified soldiers and guards. Keeping that equilibrium is the true undertaking of knighthood, less so than it is the missions we are assigned."

"Uh..." Karkadin replied, a little lost for words at the knight's resplendent use of his own, "I... agree." He took a look over Oscar's shoulder at the active crowd of wights, and the knights surrounding them. Something seemed a little... off, now. "Is everything good over there?" Karkadin questioned.

"Eh, yeah... for the most part..." Oscar droned. "Kind of. Not really. See that fancy knight, the one my blonde friend is talking to? He's the headmaster of the Knights of the Ram. Now, I'm not allowed to say much, but we uh... haven't gotten along with him for about three months. Let's call it [i]conflicting ideas.[/i]"

"I see." Karkadin responded, redirecting his attention back to Oscar. "Is there..." He continued, "Anything I can do to help?"

"Well, as long as Sir Fallon..." Oscar pointed again at the headmaster, "...insists on keeping command, then I'm afraid his knights wouldn't even [i]allow[/i] you. My captain has found that the only successful idea so far is taking those chains and rounding them up like you see by the statue."

Indeed, there was a writhing mass of bones held together by long, thick chains.

"Keeping them together like that seems like the best bet to control them once they decide they're hungry. The wights are too strong to push out, and they reassemble when you break them apart."

"But..." Karkadin replied, "What are they all [i]doing[/i] here?"

"Trust me," Oscar began dryly, "if any us knew, we would have either evacuated immediately or I'd be in the tavern drinking with one of 'em."

"Seems a lot of people are already relaxing, watching..." Karkadin replied, scanning to his sides, seeing the nearby establishments still opened up, people sitting outside, spectating.

Oscar sighed and propped his hands on his hips. "Yeah, a product of Sir Fallon. He insists that nothing is wrong. If Captain Bounevialle had it his way, he'd lead an evacuation [i]himself[/i]. Says, [i]'we shouldn't leave room for any chances.'[/i] It's starting to sound like a really good idea. They creep me out."

"Your Captain seems like a smart leader." Karkadin replied, "Although I don't think-" His sentence was cut out by the rising sound of clicking behind him. Karkadin turned his head as his mount lumbered towards him, mandibles shaking, shell vibrating some. "Ansa, Bruk!" Karkadin said aloud, approaching the beetle and placing his hands on the creature's horn. "Ansa, ansa. Oata." Bruk seemed to calm down some, and once again buckled his legs. Karkadin turned back to Oscar and said, "I'm sorry. Something has him worried."

"I wish I could say your beetle is the strangest thing I've seen today." Oscar mused. His spirits then died down a bit as then he motioned his hand toward all the wights occupying the square. "But... the [i]thing[/i]... with the March, it kind of takes the medal for about everything [i]ever.[/i]"

"Strangest I've seen as well..." Karkadin replied, looking once again towards the wights, wondering what was bound to happen with them.