Thread: A Knight's Tale (SevenRose/Fun_And_Games)

Sagaris's standard was as bold as the color of his tent, a bright red lion run rampant on a field of white, which was kept purposefully bright white in the sun. Indeed, there was a squire shining it, scrubbing off a small dot of dirt. Mostly, squires only did menial labor for the knights, and the servants took care of the tedious things like brushing tents of debris. But the symbol on the stand outside of the tent was a symbol of their lord, a matter of pride, and keeping it pristine at ALL times was the job of the squires. Scrubbing it was a common punishment for misdeeds or just to remind them of who they were. The squire scrubbing it now had a sour face, clearly not thinking it a just thing that he was the one stuck with the duty. His armor was a near match to her own, though had a shoulder and breast-plate addition...not a full knight's armor, but perhaps earned from his ongoing effort. Strange that he would be wearing it while cleaning...perhaps part of the punishment. He noticed their similarity as well, which had his eyes widening and mouth parting in surprise. But, unlike Z'Avar, he didn't have the right to simply impose himself on others, and squires learned to stop and wait before doing so. Squires might be the theoretical second-string in the camp when it came to ranking, but they were often treated as just one above the Unspoken. The servants and tradesmen were experts in their field, after all, and granted respect by the knights for being such. The squires were the 'errant children' that needed to be chastised and molded into new knights over time. His delay allowed Elizabeth to slide right by, but he finished not quite getting right his scrubbing so he could scurry off and spread the word that a woman in armor had entered the camp. Between him and those who had overheard Z'Avar chastising her, the entire camp would be fully aware of her being there within minutes. Meanwhile, she had entered the tent. It was more of a pavilion than a simple tent, and there was a foyer where she could slip inside...to be away from the open road where others might stumble on her while not yet invading the inner area where she might intrude. There were some logs set up as seats for waiting, but nothing else in the way of interest. Fortunately, she wasn't forced to linger in that sort of purgatory. Having heard her call, the semi-familiar voice of Lord Sagaris called from further in the tent, That you, Elizabeth? Enter, enter. Come attend me at my desk. If she obeyed, she would find the inner part of his tent split into two spaces if the outside size of the tent had to be accounted for. One half was off tot he left, and beyond her view. No doubt, his personal space that few would see inside. The one she walked into was the planning tent, reception tent...whatever he needed it to be. There was a firepit at the center with a draw up above in the tent space, allowing the smoke to escape. It drove away any of the outside chill left over from the morning, though it was burned low now with the expectation of a day that would be warm. Not as sweltering as high summer, but it was still early in the fall. All around the room, there were large structures upon which to hang maps. Huge tapestry style weavings were on them, depicting various lands that spread out around the Kingdom of Anglin which they all worked to defend. They were woven into the fabric, large of scale...everything within a month's ride in fairly exhaustive detail. On others, some of the details had been crafted in greater detail for some reason that was no doubt important, but not immediately evident. At the head of the tent, there was an impressive sized table. Or desk. Or both. It was large enough to have ten people stand around it debating battle tactics, though there was an semi-circular indent on the far end where one person could lean in a little further, a subtle marking of authority as to where the master of the conversation would stand. The table itself was heavy, but not so imposing as to be immovable. No doubt, it could be disassembled and carried along with the camp. But, the top was heavy, and the process would be undoubtedly long, complex, and difficult. Probably another ugly job for the squires who would not doubt had to strike down the massive tent for the Lord. Sagaris was standing in his proper place, looking over a map splayed out on the surface. This one was made of actual parchment, and there were several flags scattered over the breadth of it. He was staring at the results of his placements with some concern. The sight of Elizabeth entering seemed to shake him out of his displeasure, back to the realm of the light. He let a fatherly smile shine forth, stepping out from behind the desk and taking a couple strides toward her. Considering his rank and station, that he would close any of the distance himself was a mark of something...respect, or merely an acknowledgement of pride that she had actually answered the summons? Hard to say. Either way, the smile didn't fade. Well, Squire Elizabeth. I am gratified you answered my summons. I am sure it could not have been easy to bid farewell to all you know and love and hold dear for a life of service and hardship. But one day, it will be a life of service and PRIVILEGE and hardship if you fight hard enough. He gave an easy chuckle as he made it sound so perfectly awful. Good ride in? He flickered a hand, inviting her deeper into the tent. There was none of the overbearing pressure of Z'Avar...again, that vaguely paternal feeling coming from him, nothing different than the last time they had spoke. Indeed, even more pleasure at seeing her actually present and ready in her new attire.