You are nearing the end of your prepared material when a noisy clatter behind you attracts your attention. You flick a glance over your shoulder and are startled to see a thickly built man stumbling towards you.
He is partially armored, like a knight whose squire left in a huff just before the joust. Boiled leather greaves and boots in the dark green of Ponteroy province deck his stout legs and a chainmail cowl rests on his head and neck, but his torso is quite scandalously informal in a long woolen undershirt.
You remember him in a flash—Sir Jaundyce, an itinerant knight who joined a provincial campaign against Flenish spies a year ago and lingered in the area after the fighting was done.
It does not escape you that he has a dirk sheathed at his waist and holds a wicked mace low at his side.
Onward