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The Sublime Overlord of the Realm
She was heading towards hysterical, irrational, pouty. Her voice poured out of her like water from a glass, her tone scolding and huffy. The woman whirled on her heels, her silver white ribbon of a ponytail rippling around her. Her arms swept around her pool of wealth as she stuffed everything within the case and began to storm off. The pull hit him then. Yes, she's definitely the one.

With a gracefulness that his body did not appear to have to others, he swung up onto the back of the black animal he rode and urged Castelion after her. I am not going to slay you, girl! I thought that the call meant that I'd have to slay a red dragon, not find a red dragon. I don't know why and I'm just as unhappy to find I must follow you as you are having me follow you. And... She was still going. Away. At a brisk pace. By all that's holy! Oenshoome, are you sure that this is your will?! As if in answer, he felt the tug directing him towards her even though he let her gain a little lead from him. Damn.

Come, Castelion. We can't lose the vixen. He nudged his mount and the horse trotted, pushing through the throng of people on the street. Her height and coloration in the bold kiss of the sun made her an easy thing to spot despite the myriad shades of the press around her. It wasn't every day, however, that a person saw a cow leap a low cart. The horse cleared it well before landing heavily on his hooves before being urged to catch up to her again before she found a way out of sight. Roderick pulled ahead of her, angling Castelion in sharp to block of her path with the creature's bulky mass. He slid off, maintaining his grip on the reins before her. He dropped to one knee, right fist raising to his heart and his eyes to her feet like any knight would to a noble lady he was pledging himself to. With a clear voice, he began. My name is Sir Roderick. I am here to protect you from what danger that may come to pass. You may not have sent for me yourself, but it is Oenshoome's will. I will ever be at your side until my duty is complete. His voice was not altered by the curse placed upon him and still retained the way of speech and tone that he had been born with and raised to with his station.

As there was more than several people around, some decided to stop and stare as this was quite possibly the funniest thing that they had seen all day. A man and his cow pledging themselves to a fancily clothed bard woman. But the question was as it always was: What would happen next? Tragedy or comedy?
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By Fire's Light · City Randatria

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