Gawain rode his horse, nearly falling from it, his mere determination to survive being the only force keeping him upright in the saddle. He had begun stammering, saying something about 'lichens' and 'giant thorns' as the horse pushed it's limits and headed towards the king, whom was running from the lands that were once called Vicenna. “Mage,” Gawain stammered as he slumped slightly forwards onto his horse. “You’re clever. Can you hear it? The singing noise? I think it's the Monarch, calling me.” His words were slurred, slightly, and the man was clearly exhausted from the imprisonment.
They followed behind the king and his two knightly companions, though Gawain could only make out the moving visages of three figures, bobbing up and down, left and right as they made their escape from the desert. “It's getting louder, Monarch guide me, it's getting louder, mage..” he stammered while the horse caught up with the king and the two knights. As he drew closer, Gawain could make out the figure that was unmistakably Captain Amon Serona. The last time he'd seen that man was when he left the capital to go on his business near the border of Vicenna, the very same trip that had landed him in the clutches of that damned mage. “C-captain? You're a long way from home, captain..” he stammered, before looking at the figure that was riding with him. He did not recognize the man, though even if he had been more stable mentally, it was likely that he'd still not recognize Kolbe.
Finally his gaze rested upon that figure at the front of it all, leading them further into Areta whilst shouting that the further into Areta they got, the safer they were. Gawain chuckled slightly while he leaned against the mage, whom was still with him. “Hear that mage? You might very well be the last man.. the last mage from Vicenna that is alive..” He raised his hand in the sky, before sending it down onto the mages' back, slapping him rather hard while laughing at the boys' misfortune. His family was likely dead, as were his masters and fellow apprentices, and whomever else a mage apprentice would be familiar with. Oh, the agony. It didn't seem to connect in Gawain's deluded mind yet that they, too, were in grave danger as long as this threat would poise itself in the face of Areta.
And he had taken the mage to testify that Vicenna was at fault here, without realizing the mage likely knew nothing of this either.
“What a story you can tell when you get back home, mage. That is, if.. if I don't spit you atop my sword for herecy.. hehe! Hehehehe! Hehehrughh!!” He spat out on the sandy desert below his horses feet, the sand becoming a bit too much for his sore throat. “Ah yes. Quite a story..” he mumbled to himself, now barely holding onto the horse. He'd gone how long without water now, in this god forsaken desert. Without food, without rest. He slowly brought himself to ride next to the captain, looking to his right. The image he saw was vague, with the captains visage being blurred almost as if he was in a deep sleep or something akin to that. “Captain commander Serona. I've brought this... this here, heretic from Vicenna. Dragged from the clutches of spiders and elves alike, whom.. took me prisoner as if I were some low-born peasant!” Again he spat on the sandy desert floor, this time out of disgust.
He shook side to side in the saddle while his horse - out of instinct or training - kept the pace with the rest of the band. It would be in Gawain's favour if they got rest soon, and water, and food. His current half-delusional state did not help them further escape the claws of whatever it was that shook Vicenna, and it did not help the rest of the knights in their duty to protect the king. “It's good to see an Aretan again, captain.. last I saw was an Eretol bitch who said she'd opened her legs for all of Areta. 'twas not a plea-pleasant experience.”
The rest of the journey would be filled with Gawain's random mumbling, stammering and talking about random subjects that were neither of grave importance nor of any interest to the men.
They followed behind the king and his two knightly companions, though Gawain could only make out the moving visages of three figures, bobbing up and down, left and right as they made their escape from the desert. “It's getting louder, Monarch guide me, it's getting louder, mage..” he stammered while the horse caught up with the king and the two knights. As he drew closer, Gawain could make out the figure that was unmistakably Captain Amon Serona. The last time he'd seen that man was when he left the capital to go on his business near the border of Vicenna, the very same trip that had landed him in the clutches of that damned mage. “C-captain? You're a long way from home, captain..” he stammered, before looking at the figure that was riding with him. He did not recognize the man, though even if he had been more stable mentally, it was likely that he'd still not recognize Kolbe.
Finally his gaze rested upon that figure at the front of it all, leading them further into Areta whilst shouting that the further into Areta they got, the safer they were. Gawain chuckled slightly while he leaned against the mage, whom was still with him. “Hear that mage? You might very well be the last man.. the last mage from Vicenna that is alive..” He raised his hand in the sky, before sending it down onto the mages' back, slapping him rather hard while laughing at the boys' misfortune. His family was likely dead, as were his masters and fellow apprentices, and whomever else a mage apprentice would be familiar with. Oh, the agony. It didn't seem to connect in Gawain's deluded mind yet that they, too, were in grave danger as long as this threat would poise itself in the face of Areta.
And he had taken the mage to testify that Vicenna was at fault here, without realizing the mage likely knew nothing of this either.
“What a story you can tell when you get back home, mage. That is, if.. if I don't spit you atop my sword for herecy.. hehe! Hehehehe! Hehehrughh!!” He spat out on the sandy desert below his horses feet, the sand becoming a bit too much for his sore throat. “Ah yes. Quite a story..” he mumbled to himself, now barely holding onto the horse. He'd gone how long without water now, in this god forsaken desert. Without food, without rest. He slowly brought himself to ride next to the captain, looking to his right. The image he saw was vague, with the captains visage being blurred almost as if he was in a deep sleep or something akin to that. “Captain commander Serona. I've brought this... this here, heretic from Vicenna. Dragged from the clutches of spiders and elves alike, whom.. took me prisoner as if I were some low-born peasant!” Again he spat on the sandy desert floor, this time out of disgust.
He shook side to side in the saddle while his horse - out of instinct or training - kept the pace with the rest of the band. It would be in Gawain's favour if they got rest soon, and water, and food. His current half-delusional state did not help them further escape the claws of whatever it was that shook Vicenna, and it did not help the rest of the knights in their duty to protect the king. “It's good to see an Aretan again, captain.. last I saw was an Eretol bitch who said she'd opened her legs for all of Areta. 'twas not a plea-pleasant experience.”
The rest of the journey would be filled with Gawain's random mumbling, stammering and talking about random subjects that were neither of grave importance nor of any interest to the men.
