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open rp post

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[dragonslew]

I've never heard of this... Nym. [It was surprising, if not true enough. Ornstein often kept himself within the walls of Anor Londo, unless tasked outside for differing reasons. Often this had to do with protecting the lands that were ruled by Lord Gwyn, unnamed territories directly neighboring the golden city. Even then, he had met his fair share of travelers. None from a now-vacant city called Nym.

He watches as Arthur heals himself, face illuminated slightly by the blue-green light. When all is said and done, and he's met with the question of his own health, he shakes his head.]

Nothing that requires the aid of magic to heal. [His side feels sore -- bruised, probably -- but that was nothing in the face of the scars he's obtained in the past. Negligible in his eyes.]

[inklongdry]

I suppose the name wouldn't mean much, unless you had a deep interest in history.

[ He takes his book back at last, placing it back on his belt. There is a brief moment of somewhat awkward silence that follows- Arthur isn't very well-versed in post-dragon slaying conversation. ]

I ah. I don't believe I ever got your name. I'm Arthur. Arthur Inkwell.

[dragonslew]

[The awkward silence is real, though Ornstein seems relatively unconcerned by it. Small talk isn't his forte, either, unless it's discussing ways to improve one's fighting prowess or the varying tactics on how to slay dragons.

Still, something proud permeates his words as he exchanges introductions with this man.]

You have my gratitude, Arthur Inkwell, for aiding me in battle. You fight well for a man of magic and miracles. [That's meant to be a compliment, it really is.]

My name is Ornstein, Captain of the Knights of Gwyn. I hail from Anor Londo.

[inklongdry]

[ Arthur quirks a brow. That didn't seem very... compliment-like, but even so-- ] I'll take that as a compliment.

It's a pleasure, though I could have done without the dragon, personally.

[dragonslew]

[He makes a noise in the back of his throat, something sounding like a "harumph". Turning his head, it's hard enough to miss the dead dragon behind him, having bled out into the earth. The sight prompts him to turn on his heel and grab his spear still stuck in the creature, yanking it out with a forceful pull. The sound of flesh tearing accompanies the gesture, but it more or less comes out as cleanly as it went in. He speaks as he does so.]

Dragons are oft a terrible nuisance, clinging to the shadows of the past. Are you very familiar with them?

[inklongdry]

I've only run into a few smaller ones. Until now, anything larger was relegated to books.

[ And of course there was the neighboring city-state of Ishgard, which had been at war with dragons or thousands of years. Rumor had it that was slowly drawing to a close, however.

He shrugs. ]

I do a lot of reading.

[dragonslew]

[Spear regained, he turns to face Arthur again, letting his weapon settle into earth as he holds it up beside him.]

As most who share your inclination of magic oft do. Holed up with their books and their scrolls.