Breadman
Big loaf supreme
The time came for them to leave shadows and enter the arena. Goldbert followed the other competitors as they walked towards the exit. The sunlight shinning down upon them as the grand champions would show the symbols of the houses they represented. The watchman resisted the urge to wave, opting to simply stand at attendance as if he was on top of the Wall keeping his watch for any invaders. As for the famous men who would give their speeches, he would keep quiet to hide his ignorance. While news would reach the wall of the going ons in the Empire proper, he would usually be found beyond the posts somewhere in the snowy fields. Very little interested him in the way of news. So should anyone question him on what he thinks, he'd have to bite down his tongue to keep silent for once.
But that was for later. Now the watchman had to focus on the tournament he slithered into. Maybe his place was not among any of these champions, but he would make sure that they would remember him.
Up in the seats where the lords stayed, Vigot and Pila looked at the champions. Both with their arms crossed and having spotted one champion in particular.
"Did he ask for permission?" Pila finally peeled a question from her lips.
"No and I wonder where he would get an invitation to enter the tournament?" The high lord gave a cold answer. "What should we do with him?"
"I would skin him, but that would limit his use." The shieldmaiden spoke with something that caught Vigot's curiosity. Jealousy, She wanted to be down there in the field.
"Let us decide what his punishment should be after his performance then." He scratched his beard. "Perhaps we can use this to our advantage. You did train him to use a sword, did you not?" Pila looked to her commander with pause. She did not expect that question, nor did she have anything to answer him other than a nod.
But that was for later. Now the watchman had to focus on the tournament he slithered into. Maybe his place was not among any of these champions, but he would make sure that they would remember him.
Up in the seats where the lords stayed, Vigot and Pila looked at the champions. Both with their arms crossed and having spotted one champion in particular.
"Did he ask for permission?" Pila finally peeled a question from her lips.
"No and I wonder where he would get an invitation to enter the tournament?" The high lord gave a cold answer. "What should we do with him?"
"I would skin him, but that would limit his use." The shieldmaiden spoke with something that caught Vigot's curiosity. Jealousy, She wanted to be down there in the field.
"Let us decide what his punishment should be after his performance then." He scratched his beard. "Perhaps we can use this to our advantage. You did train him to use a sword, did you not?" Pila looked to her commander with pause. She did not expect that question, nor did she have anything to answer him other than a nod.