Sir Edward nodded his head solemnly, which left his oversized helmet rocking back and forth. "We might start here," he said, drawing an 'X' in a spot that marked the small farming village of Pie, right outside the capital city. This was where the Cavorting Croissant was! And it was also small enough that the Pastry Clerics - and Sir Edward shuddered at the thought of them - would be unlikely to find them.
Sir Edward scrunched up his bushy brows. Weapons? Was he going to need a weapon? He was never a combatant, though he could swing a broomstick or two when he needed it. Perhaps some of the others might need to visit the blacksmith instead.
As for supplies, he'd brought his whole stash with him on his two horses. They had come from his small estate. He had brought three week's supply of ice-enchanted dough. If they met a fire mage along the way, they would be able to defrost and bake the dough to scrumptious bready perfection. Other than that, he had a week's supply of biscuits, which could be eaten right away.
Aeron nodded. "I've come prepared as well and can leave as soon as needed."
Sir Edward seemed uncomfortable with the mention of weapons, though, so he decided to err on the side of caution and not mention the small armory he had in his saddlebags outside.
"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus "From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf "A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni [they/he]
"Wonderful." Crissy patted the sword at her side. "I'm skilled in hand-to-hand combat as well as swordfighting. Now then..." She trailed off as she spotted a messenger boy running in through a side door.
"Excellent!" the king said in a booming voice. He hopped off of his toast-shaped throne and strode towards the doors. "Onward, then - to the village of Pie!"
Sir Edward followed behind him. Outside, six saddled horses were waiting.
“It’s my job to assist my lady, should she need it.” Marion held out her hand.
She/They/Fae
“the wist i knew would never allow a straight boy in their stories” ~Omni “Hi Omni can I request wist get the role mom friend :]" ~winter “ah yes, fear Wist's smile :) <- speaks of layers and layers of secrets” ~mint
Sir Edward sent his one of his own horses away with the stable boy who worked on his estate. He transferred some of his supplies to a horse supplied by the king. The horse regarded him curiously as he huffed and puffed and stocked the wagon with ice-enchanted dough. It gave the feather on his helmet a sniff.
He patted the horse's snout. "His Grace's horses are fine and strong. They have a weakness for apples, but not so much for pie crust."
Aeron silently surveilled the horses and then approached a beautiful dapple gelding. He looked at the stable boy holding him. "What's his name?"
"Blueb."
Aeron raised an eyebrow. "...Blueb?"
"Yeah, like blueberry... but without the 'erry'."
"Why not just Blue?"
"Why not just respect his name?"
Aeron was quiet for a moment, then inclined his head. "Very well. Blueb it is. I'll take him."
"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus "From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf "A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni [they/he]
The king strode out further. His horse was the magnificent mare with a mane the colour of butter. He would not ride on the saddle, oh no. He would sit in the carriage behind the horse, which was sturdy and prosaic, certainly not kingly at all, so as to disguise himself from ne'er-do-wells.
"Knights, you must beware," he said in a kingly voice. "A force within the kingdom has its knife and fork positioned over the Butter Dragon's magic as we speak. They are very likely to interfere."
Then, in a much less kingly, whispering voice, he named said force: "The Pastry Clerics."
He let a moment pass, just to be dramatic. Then, he hopped into the carriage.
How can I be king of the world? Because I am king of rubbish. And rubbish is what the world is made of. — Kate DiCamillo, The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane
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