Maybelle!

[knightlyyearner]

About mineself

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۝- Twenty-one years of age

۝- Height of 191 Centimeters. Broad build.

۝- Blonde, blue-eyed.

۝- Lover of all things armor and weaponry.

[knightlyyearner]

What doth thee mean by "Thou spendeth too much time amongst the nudist druids"? I'm only thon for... uhm- training...... in- uh! Nature sorts! Aye! That is all!

(Deception: Failed.)

[knightlyyearner]

Nay! I did not blush when the Queen we are against referred to me as a "devout mutt"! You hath imagined that!

[knightposter]

Holding my enemies at swordpoint but like I’m not gay about it or anything

[knightlyyearner]

Nay, Mineself is being quite queer about it.

[knightlyyearner]

Forcing the squire to lug a sack of "gear" into a meadow, stating its for training, instructing them to open it, to find a well prepared picnic meal, with a blanket.

Setting it up for them; Them, having expected a sparring session, befuddled, confused, as the knight sits down upon the blanket, and pats the spot next to them, instructing the squire to relax and eat.

[knightlyyearner]

Feeling the rondel, piercing your side. It found that sweet spot. You know. The spot where you had neglected to repair the chainmail, betwixt your torso and arm. "No blade could find it's way to strike that true" You had thought. Well, it hath. As the warm scarlet flows over the plate and chain, you remember her words before the battle. "You are not allowed to die. Not until I say so."

You must live, for her. As any good knight would.

[knightlyyearner]

Me, attempting to kiss the fair maiden I hath met

Mine helmet, introducing itself to her forehead:

[knightlyyearner]

The knight longeth for a pathetic squire.

A squire that blushes when the knight removes her helm.

A squire that flusters as the knight refers to thee as "Her squire"

[knights-hand]

I need someone to dote on and princess-carry around for no reason real bad. Bonus points if I can absolutely wreck them in bed too. I think I'm sick and the only cure is a high maintenance prince curled up against my chest.

[knightlyyearner]

I doth believe my love language is crossing swords, battering shields, exchanging warhammer blows. The such. This seems the norm, aye?

[knightlyyearner]

Nay. I do not covereth my blush with mine helm... I just... Prefer to have the visor shut!

Wh...What doth thou mean thou can see'th through mine helm's visor...

[knightlyyearner]

Remember. Aft a particularly heavy sparring with thou squire, ye must carry them to thon bed, place thy lips in the land between their brows, and tell them just how wonderful they were. This will ensure the peak morale of thy squire. As a bonus, this will also raise the morale of thee.

[knightlyyearner]

I have a question I oft ponder.

Be it normal to blush as you grapple with your opponent, feeling the steel of thee plate impacting upon your own, to find the clashing of steel blades, wooded shields sensual?

Asking for an acquaintance.

[knightlyyearner]

One must remember to let their squire win a sparring match here and there, for it is good for their mental state.

You must also remember to pat their heads, and give them treats at times.

[synthetictorque]

NORMALISE HANGING OUT WITH YOUR ONLY BEST FRIEND

Be confident with SPEAKING IN ONLY LIES

Support them SPEAKING ONLY TRUTH

Live in a OLD GATEHOUSE AND WEAR SHINY ARMOUR

[girlhlp]

[knightlyyearner]

Mi Lord, A carriage hath impacted the watchtower.

Yee gads. It's horrible, at least thon treasury is safe, aye?

Nay, mi Lord. Struck by a wagon of the plague'd.

By the divines... Thon wagons be the King's carriages and wagons... Thon stone is too strong to have crumbled from these...