On the rolling plains of Everglast, a knight rides his horse. Up the winding hills and towards Castle Marchevelai. Passing through the iron gates, a single red rose in hand he rides to the courtyard. The people cheer him on, and he rides forth. Proud, wealthy, and handsome, a true gentleman.
As he arrives to the courtyard, a giant crowd sits around, at the center on a large stand is Princess Valera. Her beauty shines like a beacon throughout the land, bringing suitors like a moth to flames. But through his strength, valor, and chivalry, the knight knows he will win her heart today.
"Sir Necko," Count Tobis calls, "I am so glad you have come here today."
"A pleasure, Count Tobis," Sir Necko nods before riding past the stand.
Sir Necko throws the princess the rose as he rides by, she catches it and blushes.
"M'lady." Sir Necko bows his head before riding to the nearby stables and dismounting his horse.
Nearby, the competitions have begun, jousting, archery, sweeping, mad games of chess. A half smile graces Necko's face. Mad plebs, do they not know what they are getting themselves into?
*********
A gust in the wind, a petal upon the water, a shadow in the night. Light feet move across the ground, leaving barely a trace. Dextrous hands grab every hold and opening in the stone wall.
Standing upon the ramparts, a man stands silhouetted in the sunlight, but only for a moment. The stranger runs, arms dragging in the air just slightly behind him. He hops down from one thatch hut, awning, foothold in the stone until he nimbly lands down upon the dirt in the courtyard.
Sir Necko turns to see this new visitor, but catches not a glimpse as the shadow darts its way towards the Princess. An assassin?
No, he stops just short of Valera, dropping down on one knee and producing a rose seemingly from nowhere. She looks bewildred as she takes the rose.
"And who are you, fine sir?" She asks, blushing.
The man stands up, for the first time plainly visible as all eyes are drawn to him. He wears light armor, made of the finest wood and painted black. His helmet adorned with devil horns and with various flowing sheets of steel to deflect blows.
"I am Otakis Miziaki." He adresses the crowd before spinning around to face the Princess. "I have come from a far away land, tales of your beauty and elegance have spread far and wide, just as you will when I wed you."
The Princess' head jerks back at this remark, and the crowd gasps.
Face flushed red, Sir Necko stomps forward.
"That is no way to speak to the lady!" He says, "she is royalty. Besides, a foul knave like you could never win her heart, it belongs to me!"
"Perhaps we should settle this like men?" Otakis draws his katana before twirling around and swiping, flipping, and spinning the blade around.
The crowd appears impressed by the fancy sword flipping and footwork. Sir Necko is not nearly as fancy and just draws his broadsword and charges forward.
Otakis is caught off guard, nearly losing his head. Yet he remains light on his feet, constantly deflecting and evading the blows from Sir Necko's blade. He trips Necko to the ground and jams the blade behind him, hoping for a killing blow. The katana merely clanks against the knights armor and stops.
Otakis feels an arm entangle with his before the sword slams into his helmet, not once, but twice. The helmet cracks and dents, but before the final blow is struck the samurai manages to swipe his blade behind the knights knee. He stumbles and falls but still manages to stop the katana from burying into his neck.
With a roar Sir Necko stands and attacks, a flurry of anger and honor. In a rush to not have his head cleaved in two, Otakis steps back and lifts his sword. Sir Necko's blade smashes into the edge, shattering it in half. With a yelp of dismay Otakis rolls under another blow, sticking his leg out behind him and kicking Necko's wound.
In a flash the samurai nearly takes the blade from Necko's grip, but the knight attempts to use his momentum against him and throw him to the ground, but the sword clatters away. The two engage in a vicious game of fisticuffs, neither really having the upperhand at this point.
The girl stands at the cash register, watching the two grown men sissy slap at each other and roll around on the ground in the aisle. Two roses lay in the trashcan next to her, as he picks up the phone, maybe to call the police or her manager. The man with the fedora, and gross, tangly puby neckbeard far outweighs the weeb. The weeb with his "Hentai can't say no" shirt, and gay emo hair covering one oh his eyes and dyed red.
She can smell their obnoxious body odor even from several feet away. She sets down the phone as the police storm in, tazing both individuals before ramming their batons up their asses and out of their faces.
