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The Black Knight speaks with an easy confidence and companionable grin that you would not have thought could come easily to one that looks so young as he. <span class="mu-i"> “The hour grows late, and I’ll not bore my veteran brothers-in-arms with grandiose speeches and lofty affirmations. We’ll save that for the next change of Rota.”</span>
Chuckles and scoffs from a dozen men at a dozen tables greet the cheerful wink of their Lord Captain as he continues.
<span class="mu-i">“But first, I hear we have a few new worthies deemed fit to join our ranks. Come! Step forth and be recognised, and don’t let the size of the thing intimidate you.”</span> More chuckles and guffaws answer the Black Knight’s last line, timed with the unsheathing of a massive claymore as yourself and the Sir Cedrics step out from your table with the 43rd Talon and approach the dias.
The jovial mood seems to take a more solemn turn as every knight, lowborn man-at-arms and foreign cataphract rises to their feet. Every eye in the room is upon you and your fellow new recruits as you take a knee in line at the feet of the Black Knight.
The claymore swings down, halting with a soft <span class="mu-i">tink</span> on the pauldron of the first Sir Cedric twin. <span class="mu-i">“Do you swear to obey the Dragon, to heed His rightful commands?”</span>
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