At the suggestion of this land being *his* a sour look graced his youthful features. Yet, it was also one of resignation.

“Yes, I am the Duke. Armand D’Aquitaine. Please…do not bow or share any more pleasantries than you normally would.”

The sight of the falcon brought a smile to the face of the knight. It was a knowing smile, yet the familiarity would not be stated upfront by him.

“Well, you and your companion find yourselves in the Duchy of Aquitaine in the Kingdom of Bretonnia in the world of Mallus.”

+

With every syllable that was stated about where the Halfling woman was from, the now exposed brows of the knight furrowed more and more out of sheer confusion.

“I…see. Well, I can’t say I’m familiar with…anywhere that was mentioned I’m afraid.”

+

Raven locks cascaded down to his shoulders, gently moving with the wind that caressed past.
“May I ask from which land you hail? Or, what group you hail from? I know of some folk who spend their lives moving with the sun…an enviable life.”

At the oldest, he looked like he was in his mid-twenties. His youthful features looked like they were attempted to be offset by the short and well-groomed black beard he sported. Deep blue eyes like a roiling ocean gleamed in the sun that overlooked the many fields surrounding them.

+

It was the steed who responded first, though with an impatient raspberry. A scoff that mixed annoyance and amusement tumbled out of the knight’s helmet like a waterfall.
Patting the horse on its head, the armored man dismounted from his companion, and removed his helmet.

+

This stranger would not be the first Halfling he’d met. Though they were more common to find in The Empire, roving bands of nomadic Halflings weren’t unheard of in Bretonnia either. He’d had some of the best meals in his life when he guested with a troupe of Halflings on his grail quest.

Though his face was obscured behind the gaze of a helmet made of steel, the mounted man’s moment of pause and consideration spoke of a budding interest in the stranger and the situation they were seemingly in.

“A traveler, then? Unsure of where you are, or merely seeing what’s around?”
+

//…getting some interactions with all the lovely people who have recently followed me here. I haven’t had the opportunity to use Armand much in the almost year of his existence. I’ve realized recently that I still haven’t quite hammered down how I want to play him, so I need to stretch those legs!

//This image is too glorious for my mortal brain to comprehend.

“It’s best we get headed out now. In fact, it appears that we have been blessed with a quicker trip than I had thought.” Pure giddy excitement curled around every word.

Truly, it was heartening to know that even so far from home, The Lady still blessed him.

…and there was a good reason he despised both of them.

Before the words could cascade from his mouth, he saw movement from the corner of his eyes. Mist rolled across the branches like a gentle tide. Armand grinned like a child ready to show a trick to his sibling as he looked to Miri.

+

“…to help me in my many travels.”

Feeling a bit antsy, the begrudging Duke was ready to politely…if forward ask her to saddle up behind him. Armand was well aware of his curtness, and he greatly appreciated her own up-front attitude. Empty pleasantries were for snakes and his court…

+

Those lakes of blue in Armand’s eyes couldn’t help but lighten from the mirth on his face as his trusted companion enjoyed the attention from this woman of the woods.
“You truly have a gift. Barangor isn’t the friendliest horse. But, I couldn’t ask for a better companion….”

+

Armand’s steed had the same level of patience and timidity as his rider; namely, none at all. As soon as the sorceress raised her hand to him, the mottled steed plunged his snout into her appendage. He snorted and enjoyed the scent, and even gave her flesh a curious and gentle nibble.

+

The glory of purpose, it all felt too right to him. Just like it felt right to offer a hand of assistance to the stranger who was in need as far as he could guess. Perhaps she was too proud to admit it? Such a mindset wasn’t new to him. After all, he named his horse after one such person.

+

…to enjoy the setting sun as it painted the surrounding flora with a masterful stroke of phantasmal pinks and bruised purples.
Truthfully, he did quite like the look of the nature that he now found himself in, but as soon as he was given a directive, it was as rote as riding from bed.

+

//Love a good sidequest!

//Armand in that moment may very well be like