thoughtformed | (no subject)

Belike you've nothing better to do than roam about the Moore engaging in brigandage and outrage, but I'd beg a moment's grace for a humble address. I've been mocked often enough for having no liege and no arms to hang upon my shield, and 'tis true I've no lands, no squire, no one to vouch for my patents but my steed, Ducati. And a love of song and merry color has lead a wag or two to christen me the Red-Breasted Knight, or the Red-Robin for those who doubt my horse's testimony of nobility.

For myself, I say gramercy, and count the name a feather in my cap, for if my deeds gave you nothing to speak of, you'd need no name, for you'd know naught of me. And yet, it seems I'm spoken of often enough. I've never failed in honest test of arms, nor in the tilt or other such hastiludes. Perhaps that's worth a little speech. There might be one or two other feats of which mention is made as well. But my point is thus: speak of the Red-Breasted Knight as you will, and be welcome. But if your own ignoble deeds pass so far as to bring your own name to my lips -- why then, have a care. Not every knight athwart this isle will wait the King's good word to ride you down.