The King's Champion

The Rider of the South entered the tower on horseback, having not dismounted since he got the hose. He rode in, the charger walking and moving as he willed it to. It was the way of the South East.

"King!" Nahk roared as he entered. He knew there was a new king. Anyone who cared would know. Nahk, however, did not want the throne. He was not the man to rule, but rather the man to fight. He was a fighter, a killer; a raider. He did not want to rule, but be the sword of the ruler, wild and untamed. 

He would wait, quarterstaff in hand, mounted upon his steed, watching to see if the king would show.

King James walked into the throne room, from a small tunnel behind the throne that lead off to the balconies, after being told by own of the servant maids that a man on a horse had rode into the throne room. 
He smiled and said, "Hello, young raider of South East. Have you come to swear fealty to your new king, or do you come with a boon?"
James walked over to his throne, and sat upon it, curious as to what the man on the horse wanted from him. A cold serious look came over  James as he stared upon the man, waiting for the man's next move.

Nahk looked at the man who was king as he crossed the floor. At first, he was glad to see this man. He was not a god or hero of legend, but simply another human, such as himself, who had risen to the throne first. Nahk judged the two were of equal strength, and this pleased him; it meant that the king was more likely to accept his proposition.

"You are king," Nahk said. He regretted the fact that his knowledge of the common tongue was dismal, and speaking was difficult for him, but he knew enough words to get his point across. "Saying that is fealty enough.

"I come to fight, but not you," he continued. "For you."
"Every king needs a champion to fight wars and kill enemies while the king rules. I can fight, I can kill. I will do these things for you," he said, nodding fiercely.

He meant them, though his words were strange and brutish, his muscles were strong, and his mind was ready to kill. If the king would accept this, Nahk felt that it would be good for the both of them. Nahk was not fit to rule, but to fight, and for James, the king, one cannot make war while so heavily weighed down by politics.

James looked at the man, and smiled.
"You wish to be my champion, yes. I need a champion to fight for me. Let it be so."
James then stood up, and said, "Here me, raider. Fight for me, and I shall never betray you."
He then, anticlimatic, sat back down and said, "Now then, are you wanting pay along with that?"

The short man, sitting upon his horse looked down at the king before him, and allowed a smile to float across his face. The king had agreed; good. That would make things much easier for future events. Then, more good news with the option of gold being involved.

"More gold gives better weapons," Nahk said, nodding again. "Better weapons means better killing, and better champion. I will not demand any, but give me gold, and good will come. The king's good; your good."

Nahk finished, hoping the king would understand that this meant the more money he had, the more efficient he would be. Upon his steed, he was faster than any, but with just the quaterstaff in his hands, and no armor on his body, Nahk was still very weak. Being a fighter and warrior to the heart, Nahk relied on his body rather than magic, and in such would need better weapons.

"The king's decision," he then said, gesturing to Jame's with his staff.

He liked this king. He was reasonable, but more importantly, not turned away by Nahk's inability to speak properly. He would be a good king, and Nahk would fight any battle for him, on any day.

James rose and said, "Good.  We are in agreeance. How about to start, five gold each week. As the kingdom expands, your pay increases. And as such, if you ever need gold for equipment, come and ask me for it, and if there are funds for it, and I feel like it would help this kingdom, I will provide you with the funds you need.'
He strode up to the man on the horse, and held up his hand. "Seal this with a hand shake? I have no sword to knight you with, but maybe a handshake for now to show that we agree. I'll knight you when I have the proper gear and equipment.'

In a fluid motion, Nahk swung one leg quickly over the side of his horse, and landed heavily on the ground next to James. Turning to him, Nahk extended his own hand, and shook James' own proudly.

"My lance is yours," Nahk said, triumphantly, tapping his staff into the ground once, as for the time being it was his makeshift lance. "And the blood of your enemies will be spilled when you say so."

"You are a good king," Nahk said, nodding his head after the handshake. "We will be strong."

With that, Nahk nodded once more, and if James had nothing more to say, he would mount his horse once more. He was glad that James was willing to not only listen to Nahk, but to also help him, and in turn, help the kingdom. He was the champion of the realm now, and would hold the title highly.

James smiled, and went back to his throne. He sat down and said, "Ride forth, my champion. Let all fear the might of the kingdom of South Eastern."
With that, he sat back on his throne, and smiled, thinking of all the things that he had in mind to make South Eastern mighty.


[end, with James sitting on throne, unless Nank has anything more to add. 338 words+6 ap, (+3 to patience, +3 to patience)]

(Nope, I got nothing else.
Exit, 686 twc. Requesting 13 stats, 6 to patience, and 7 to memory. Putting 200/200=686 towards small healing rune, and inscribing it 200/200=486 and again 200/200=286, and one last time 200/200=86. 3 inscriptions total, covering both thumbs, and the right pointer finger.)

Approving you both.