I am nothing if not honest, my Prince. I fight truthfully, no matter who my opponent is, no matter if I know I will win or lose.
But don’t sell yourself short, my Liege. I know you’re trained in the art of swordplay, though perhaps not as rigorously as us knights. I believe we would make good sparring partners, in fact, as I’ve only been a knight of your court for a brief time. You don’t yet know how I fight, nor I you. This should be interesting.
Now, the question is, armour off or on? I see you’ve got some protection there, but nothing to compare to a full kit. I think it’s only fair if I match you, stripping down to padded fabric and leather. And no helmet, obviously. Your hair will look so perfect mussed and sweaty, and I wonder if you’ll notice the same of me.
I can’t help but feel smaller out of armour. Obviously I’m more vulnerable to injury this way, but it’s more than that. In my kit, I’m a knight of the Crown; out of it, I’m just Errant. Even in armour, I’m not always taken seriously by some of my brothers in arms.
So when our match begins, expect me to proceed with a certain amount of spite. Not towards you, my Prince, but you can be sure we’ll have an audience. I certainly won’t be the only one wanting to face you, after all.
Wonderful, Sir Errant, let us commence at once. Just the gambesons will do fine. There is no need for plate simply to spar, after all, and I don’t want it in the way. I want to feel this, that way I can properly give it my all. Armor in this setting would only be a crutch for me to not have to prioritize evasion and countering.
Tis a shame to hear of thy mistreatment by the others — though I hear tell that some of it has been rather enjoyable — but at least this way we can work out our frustrations, yes? Show them what thou art capable of.
Let us see which of us shall find ourselves in the dirt.
