“Shut your mouth boy!” Gawain spat back at the mage, though it was not as much an argument as just petty squabbling between a raving madman and a mage that had just suffered the loss of not only his family but also his kingdom, and his master. In any other situation the exchange of words would have been petty, but to Gawain the exchange made as much sense as ever.
“I am not mo-mocking you boy, I am simply telling you the.. truth. Yes. The truth. Your home is gone. Great. Now you can swear of magic and- maybe.. no.. perhaps? 'twould be a sight..” Gawain mused over something that apparently only he understood the meaning of - and the term 'understood' would be used rather loosely in that. He had no control anymore, simply babbling to fill the time while confusion and headache filled his head.
“My own land? Areta? Hm.. perhaps these creatures will come. That must m-mean Vicenna sent them. Those bastards.. you would know, wouldn't you, magus-boy-man? No.. I fear not for Areta.” Suddenly his posture changed from hanging slump, barely holding on, to a straightened back and a chin held high, even if he swayed more to the left and right than before.
“Areta fields the finest soldiers, and unlike the mages, we are with many, we are strong, and we can kill these beasts. I cut one his legs, and he bellowed and beckoned like a co-cow in a slaughterhouse. I am sure if.. hmm.. three? Five.. Yes, five. Five men can take down such a critter, with no trouble.”He spoke about Areta with a sense of pride - perhaps an unfulfilled pride, since Gawain had not done much for his country, nor his country for him, but being an Aretan with no goal was always better than being a Vicenni mage.
Always. Slowly he slumped forwards again, looking left and right in a haze of foggy vision. It was then that the man up front spoke up, the one in the fancy clothing that Gawain had yet to realize was his very own king, his Monarch, God on Earth.
“Missing knight? Me?” For a moment Gawain pondered upon the man's words, thinking about whether he had been missing.
“I knew where I was all along.. did I? Was I.. lost?” he said to himself rather silently, a frown forming on his face as he thought long, only enhancing his headache.
“Placate.. you?” “Captured.. yes, captured. Ahem!” His cough was the prelude to a long rant about his capture - from the start to finish, a rather lengthy story to keep himself busy in his delirious state of mind. He raised his voice then, hailing the man at the front. Whomever it was, he had shown an interest in Gawain for some reason, and that was well received by Gawain's ego.
“Yes, it's true! Th-this here mage fellow, he and his 'master' captured me. First of all, they only managed to do so with tr-tricks not befitting of a noble man like myself, you understand surely.. second of all, they were.. are.. been mages.. and they committed crimes against God. Against our Monarch, truly. Then the elves came..” He waited for a moment to gather his thoughts through the haze in his mind - collecting images, words, the things he required to form a rambling but somewhat cohesive story. As far as that was possible..
“Yes.. the elves. They burned the town. I felt bad, see, the villagers may have supported a mage, but frankly, the elves treated them much worse, killing and raiding. It was like a band of Eretol feasting upon the remains of a abandoned caravan in the desert. They found us, in the jail, prison I mean. And they knocked the old mage unconscious - a despicable act. They hadn't found him worthy of a decent death, in combat, instead taking him down like he was some poor old fool in a back-street that got mugged.. I had released myself after that, through my cunning and intriguing skills. But then the elves came back and captured me once more. I was unable to defend myself as the mage had taken my blade, and I was unarmored. I exchanged words with one of the.. hm.. that man. And a woman. Two women.. two men, too. One was a human, the rest elves.. they treated me roughly, ungentlemanly, and beat me up, for no reason. I had shown nothing but respect.. Ah yes. And then.. they killed the mage. I heard him gurgling in his own blood, drowning in it if you will, a death not worthy of a mage, even if he is a heretic.. I wish we had gotten to purge him from his misdeeds at a pyre, but instead he shall remain in the hells of the Monarch, paying the price for magic..”Most of the story was probably made up and made no sense, but Gawain had talked for some time then, and he felt rather accomplished with the story he told. Maybe he shouldn't have become a knight.. maybe he should've been a bard. Playing an instrument sounded like fun right now. He glanced around some more, before his eyes fell upon the mage.
“Well mage. At least you have us.. until the Inquisitors arrive and-” An interruption from the man that rode up front, in his royal clothes. Must've been some nobleman - little did Gawain know his thoughts were not only true, but he was looking at the king.
“Hear that mage.. you're free to stay alive. Just don't pull any spooky magic from your.. where does magic even come from.. Ah, what do I care. Just don't p-pull it no more. I saw you casting that fire, and it was well timed though unneeded. Heretic magic is never needed boy..” At times he sounded like a madman - at times he sounded like a drinking companion that had a few too many mugs of beer. At least he was not yelling.
As they strode into the small city that was, apparently, called
Udny Pass, Gawain got to take a look at the many colorful canopies that had been placed here.
“Eretol? Inside our villages? Pre-preposterous.” They may not have been Eretol but at that point, any person living in a tent was practically an Eretol to Gawain. A the small party stopped and dismounted, Gawain clumsily followed their lead and also dismounted. It would've been best for the mage to dismount quickly, or else he'd risk being pulled into a fall by Gawain.
Ultimately it took him a full minute to dismount, though that wasn't so strange given the mans mental state. He'd always been noble, but most of that came from his title and not his behavior, as was evident right now. Spotting a pot of water near the refugees, Gawain quickly made way there, sitting down next to the pot without saying as much as a word. He gripped the edges and..
SPLASH!He had thrown his face into the water, submerging his head entirely under water, drinking it as he went under. He hung in there for some time, to the great surprise and fear of the refugees, who did not seem to understand what overcame them. When he finally pulled himself out he was smiling, and looked considerably more fresh.
“By the Monarch!” he proclaimed, before folding his hands together and raising them to the sky in a gesture of prayer.
“Bless you, Monarch! Your bounties know no limits!” Well, the bounties of the refugees knew no limits. And it was forcefully taken from them. But Gawain cared little - it was just some water after all, and got up from his knees leaving the refugees behind again as he approached the group again.
Wait, when did the king join them? For a brief moment Gawain wondered if he'd been sleeping the entire time, but he remembered profoundly that a noble man had asked him his life story, which he'd gladly provided for him..
In his mind he decided to not say anything for fear of appearing stupid, though he did not realize that, yes,
that too had likely already been accomplished. He simply grasped the pommel of his sword, wanting to appear like he was actually on guard like a knight was supposed to be. He stood near the mage, wanting to keep an eye on him, but also feeling himself strangely drawn to him as if he had known the boy for a long time and gone through some major things with him. Perhaps, one might say, that was true. Gawain would say that was horseshit and he simply wanted to ensure no magic would be cast near or around the king.
@Thortimer