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“As I should.” Admitted the Knight Errant as he nodded in acceptance, “There should be a Grail Shrine between here and there. I can pray at one of these without losing any more time from the path that I will be taking towards Albion.”
“I have heard of one just south of the border with Bastonne. You will find it in a grassy field where a lake used to sit.” The Count said as he stepped away from the young Knight, “Pray there for her protection.”
There was a small welt of emotion within the heart of Lucian as he heard those words. It was a realization to Lucian here and now that it was likely the last time that the two will ever see each other. If Remon was lucky then he shall continue to act as the Count of this county but such chances were less and less likely.
A Knight who could not protect his home after all might not be called a Knight at all.
If they could not do that, then what right did they have to rule?
“I will pray for both a safe journey and for your own safety, Remon.” Lucian said as he gave a shallow smile, “If Morr allows it we shall meet once again under the sun.”
“He shall.” The Count said now a good distance from Lucian so that the Knight could march forward, “Goodbye, Lucian the Durand.”
“Goodbye, Remon.” The words coming from Lucian’s voice sounded final. Lucian wondered if these were the omens of Morr trembling through his flesh.
With those words Lucian left the Count and walked his way up to his companions. The Wagon that Truffles drove was modified with a seat for the dwarf to sit upon. It was shorter than a carriage but held the same elegance as one. Lucian noticed that an anvil covered in dwarven runes sat closest to the Dwarf.
At his other side was Tee-Nee-Tyny upon his mighty Bok. The larger creature laying low as if momicing a wolf more than man like the Skink was. In truth it did not look out of place to Lucian and might have been something of the original design of the creature before it became upright.
“My fellows, my friends, we march off now.” Lucian announced at the heights of his voice, “We march in the name of the Lady, Thungri, the Old Ones, and Morr! Together may we resist Nagash and his followers! To Albion!”
And with that declaration the three of them set off.
