The Flower of King and Knights

The Tale of Sir Ulrich

Sir Ulrich rode down the road towards the Castle of Lord Dalaran has he ran into Sir Culwech. “Sir Culwech, what a pleasant surprise to see you here.”

“Aye, tis a nice turn of events. Say, what brings a knight such as you out in these parts?”

“King Ector tasked me to find a Lord not from here, Dalaran I believe. He’s been holding maidens against their will, defiling them and what not. You know, usual knight business. Would you like to accompany me?”

“Why not. Normally I tend to tend to my own travels, but it is nice to get some action every so often. Do you know how to get to this lord’s castle?”

“…No. I’ve trying to get some townsfolk to tell me. But they simply tell me I’m a fool or an idiot, and then run back into their houses or hovels or huts. Not very friendly are they?”

“Ah, you just need to give them time. Or you could start aimlessly killing, whatever suits your taste.”

“I think I’ll pass on the random killing, thank you.”

Culwech shrugged, “Meh, to each their own.”

The two knights rode towards a burnt hut, bodies of the fallen littered the road and ditches. Ulrich made a cross upon his chest as Culwech examined the scene. “Hmm, foul work is afoot here.”

“Is this the work of bandits?”

“Doubt it, they don’t spend much time burning huts in these parts. No, tis the work of the Lord of these parts. I’ve heard that he’s slaughtered whole villages for the slightest of offenses; men, women, children, everything.”

They left the scene to find a Red Knight standing near a well polishing his armor while the Knight’s squire tended to their horses. Sir Culwech turned to Sir Ulrich, “Good knight, let us travel another road. This is a knight from The Order. You are young, but lacking experience that would greatly aid you. Men of his sort are hard to defeat, and nearly impossible to kill.”

“True, but I am in need of a drink. And will try my luck and fortune.”

Sir Culwech tried once more to convince Sir Ulrich otherwise, but the young knight approached the Red Knight, who now began to sharpen his blade with a stone. “Good sir knight of The Order. May I ask a request?”

The Knight’s head rose quickly, “To you wish to fight to the death, and test your skills of war against mine.”

“In all honesty, I was hoping to have a drink from the well that you are next to.”

“Oh, be my guest, you are more than welcomed.”

Sir Ulrich and Culwech refreshed themselves at the well when suddenly a woman ran out of the forest. “My lords, save me! There is a mad knight who wishes to defile me.”

“How rude,” said Sir Ulrich as he rushed to remount his steed.

No sooner had he lifted himself up did the pursuing knight emerged to grab his intended victim. Culwech barely had time to grab his spear, seeing that he could not reach the maiden in time, aimed his spear and threw it with such accuracy that it pierced the knight’s heart. Ulrich turned to the Welsh knight, “Excellent throw!”

“Thank you, we try to keep things lively in our lands.”

A voice came the woods, “Yes and I heard that the Welsh do not joust with spear, but with maces upon poles.”

“Tis a funny jest, coming from a man whose name means ripped coat,” Culwech said sarcastically.

At that moment, La Cote Male Tail appeared from the woods. His armor was silver with gold etchings, and a long pole axe in hand. “I see you found the fair maiden that I was looking for.”