A Knight of a sacred order
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You are Sir Tristram Thorn, the fabled Crimson Knight. In the Goblin Wars, you defended the the Abby of the Crimson Blade on your own, and so gained fame through those deeds. You are still young, a mere twenty six years old, and have the energy for perhaps another great quest or ten. | You are Sir Tristram Thorn, the fabled Crimson Knight. In the Goblin Wars, you defended the the Abby of the Crimson Blade on your own, and so gained fame through those deeds. You are still young, a mere twenty six years old, and have the energy for perhaps another great quest or ten. | ||
| - | A messenger arrives at your doorstep one morning. You open your door to see a woman of around seventeen, wearing torn villager's clothing that barely covers her cuts and bruises. | + | A messenger arrives at your doorstep one morning. You open your door to see a woman of around seventeen, wearing torn villager's clothing that barely covers her cuts and bruises. She clutches a note in one hand, and is breathing heavily. Her blonde hair is bound in a ponytail behind her back. Your eyes are quickly drawn to her cleavage; her attackers' blades barely nicked the skin, but sliced her shirt in half, exposing it. |
| - | + | 'Sir... Tristram... Thorn...' the woman mutters. 'I've been sent with a personal message... from his Majesty... The King...' And with that, she collapses. | |
| - | + | You drag the woman inside, and set her down next to the fire, before tenderly removing her clothes to treat her wounds. You apply a poultice to her cuts, before patching them up with bandages, then drape a blanket over her to preserve the messenger's modesty. What do you do now? | |
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| - | + | *[[The woman looks so tempting... rape the King's messenger]] | |
| - | + | *[[No, you are the Crimson Knight. You do not just rape messengers. Wait for her to wake up]] | |
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[[Category: Medieval Kingdom]] | [[Category: Medieval Kingdom]] | ||
Current revision as of 15:16, 11 August 2014
You are Sir Tristram Thorn, the fabled Crimson Knight. In the Goblin Wars, you defended the the Abby of the Crimson Blade on your own, and so gained fame through those deeds. You are still young, a mere twenty six years old, and have the energy for perhaps another great quest or ten.
A messenger arrives at your doorstep one morning. You open your door to see a woman of around seventeen, wearing torn villager's clothing that barely covers her cuts and bruises. She clutches a note in one hand, and is breathing heavily. Her blonde hair is bound in a ponytail behind her back. Your eyes are quickly drawn to her cleavage; her attackers' blades barely nicked the skin, but sliced her shirt in half, exposing it.
'Sir... Tristram... Thorn...' the woman mutters. 'I've been sent with a personal message... from his Majesty... The King...' And with that, she collapses.
You drag the woman inside, and set her down next to the fire, before tenderly removing her clothes to treat her wounds. You apply a poultice to her cuts, before patching them up with bandages, then drape a blanket over her to preserve the messenger's modesty. What do you do now?
