Ser Jonith's page

Handle Animal: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21
Ride: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (13) + 13 = 26
The cavalier guides his steed to a nearby tree and slices it's bark with his longsword, giving the weapon a small sheen of sap.

Um. sure.

Jonith only has masterwork weapons. Being a cavalier is expensive. You have to buy gear for both you and your mount.

"In lack of magical weapons, we retreat!"

"Dear God! How do we fight them?" Ser Jonith says, pulling his longsword, wondering the futility of the gesture.

Bewilderment registers on the cavalier's face. "As you say,..Ser Garnett."
Ser Jonith also feels the general unease of the very quiet forest.
The horseman gently pats his steed neck to calm it.
Handle Animal: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27

"I am of the opinion that we go through the forest, unless Ser Garnett deems it folly", states Ser Jonith.

Ahh. The fey." Ser Jonith tries to recover his flippant attitude in the shadow of Faylinn's sincerity. "That's an entirely different matter, then."

The cavalier chuckled slightly. "Ser Garnett, you make it sound like the forest is alive!"

"Ser Garnett", said Ser Jonith addressing the polemaster, "you are most familiar with this region, I cede to you experience in this matter. What say you?"

Still here. Don't know why, but I'm still here.

"I believe I speak for all of us in saying we have the provisions necessary for the travel ahead", said Ser Jonith, as he climbs onto his steed.

The cavalier huffed, "Fine. Walden, please assist Faylinn in the acquisition of the chains in question."
Bowing slightly to Lyari and Trimar, Jonith begged pardon. "Excuse me, gentlemen." Turning on his heel, Ser Jonith walked to the griffin enclosure to retrieve the specialized muzzle.

"I will not deny the thought of taking the beast alive has crossed my mind", responded Ser Jonith. "Of course you know, training is much earlier when the griffon is very young, and will be much harder to train an adult."
"But the orders of our king supercedes our wishes", continued the cavalier. "If the beast gives us the opportunity to take it alive, we should try. But if the Fates are against us, we must do what must be done to protect Riverport."
Turning to his squire, Ser Jonith states, "Walden. I believe we have a spare griffon muzzle near the griffon enclosure. The hard leather one."
Giving a slight bow to Ser Trimar, Jonith asks, "If I may, I would ask your squire to aquire several strong chains from the blacksmith, 3 to 4 in roughly 20 ft. length. I bow to your experience with griffons to the quality and size of the net".

Looking to Walden and the squires, Ser Jonith relays the information of the king's quest.
"Squires. You and your masters have been issued a royal quest to Riverport. The journey will take half a fortnight. I shall leave it to your sires to relay further information as we travel."
Addressing Walden, the cavalier adds, "With luck, we shall make our food stretch by some hunting."

Ser Jonith bows to both Markous and King Arthur.
"My fellow knights, I shall meet you at the stables. If I run into your squires, I shall tell them to find you immediately."
The cavalier exits the throne room to find his squire and pick up any supplies they might need on their journey.

Absolutely. As far as I know Jonith has been walking with Gawain for nearly a month now.

"Ah, Lemain. Of course." Gawains smile tightens a little but he inclines his head anyway. "Wonderful to meet you Heather. Now if you will both excuse me I will see to Scian before we head to the appointment!"

Before Gawain leaves, Ser Jonith interjects, "Might I join you on your way to the squires?" With a definitive tone, the cavailer nods to Heather and says, "Thank you, Heather."

With his intent focused on the lady, Ser Jonith is started by Prince Gawain's approach.
"Oh! Good morning, Gawain", say Jonith with an courtly bow. "Yes, Heather here just informed me of the King's request for an audience. Heather is one of Lemain's agents."

The cavalier considers Heather's words. "Thank you for letting me know." Leaning in close Ser Jonith, the knight whispers "How will I ever thank you?"

Ser Jonith laughs off the comment. "My awareness is fine. I was just seeing if I would see Prince Gawain flying this morning."
"Besides", continued the cavalier, "what is occuring at ten rising?"

Feeling the soft hands over his eyes, Ser Jonith figures he'll play along with the ruse, and pretends shock.
"Awhh! Alas! I am undone! Pray, please tell me the name of my executioner before I die?"

With the royal horse stable in order for the morning, Ser Jonith walks over to the opposite side of the courtyard to the griffon enclosure. One his way, the cavalier greets serfs and commoners also doing their morning chores for The Crown, keeping his eye to the skies.
Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15

Ser Jonith is in the stables. Last night came a early frost, so the cavalier is removing blankets from the horses, and and feeding covered hay, so the frost will not sully the beasts' breakfast.

Resting on a pitchfolk, Ser Jonith remembers when these stables were at near ruin. Amazing the difference three years make.

Wonderful! Thanks for the update!

Walden finally catches up with Ser Jonith as they all head to the pratice area. "What did I miss?" He asked as he raised an eyebrow.

"Not much", said Ser Jonith with a small shake to his head. The cavalier motioned his squire to sit next to him.

The cavalier shakes his head, and finds a good seat to watch.

The cavalier nods in understanding of Ser Gawain's request.

Feylinn, what did you do to poor Squire Walden?

"Walden is carrying out our daily duties with the same level of duty and care we normally do. The young squire knows the level of admonishment he would receive if he did any less."

Ser Jonith steps back to give the incoming cleric and squire room to administer to Ser Dealan.
The cavalier thinks careful about his next words, then speaks The Crown Prince.
Your Royal Highness, as a Knight of The Realm, I see far too many shades of gray for my liking. Yes, one knows that to live in the real world, one must tell a lie to spare pain, but I try to do so as little as possible, lest the gray areas of life become too comfortable"
Having said his peace, Ser Jonith takes the offered mug of mead from the returning squire.

"Now now Ser Jonith, no need for that. We are equals here and now. Galahad, please get Ser Jonith a drink if you would. Something strong and warming." The squire bowed his head and made his way to go do just that.

"Your Royal Highness", Says Ser Jonith, "I hope that Ser Dealan knows what I said was in jest", turning to give the injured knight a short, but official bow. "I have great respect for his personage and station."

As talk turned to the training of Squires, Gawain sighed slightly. "Galahad is a talented fighter, strong and true, and quite a kind and caring man, filled with the goodness and strength of Arkay. But by the gods he is as interesting as a wet blanket. The man needs to learn to lighten up. I am trying to teach him to enjoy life, but gods it is a struggle."

"Ah, Your Royal Highness, yet Galahad has the enviable position of being a squire to the Crown Prince. His drive to prove his worth of such a post may be bordering on manic at times. He places himself under extreme stress to succeed under your tutelage."

As Ser Trimar begins to underdress, Sir Jonith looks to the distant wooden pillars of the room, until the ranger is decent.

"Ser Dealan, bleeding: as it is your custom", said Ser Jonith, with a very so slight smile. "You realize the ladyfolk will only tolerate so much scar tissue on their men, lest your 'rugged handsome' turn into 'horribly disfigured'."
The cavalier then gives the fighter a serious look. "I'm sorry, Myla. He doesn't look to be in a serious way, but bandages would go a long way to stopping any infections."
Looking to the squire, Sir Jonith asks, "What brought this on?"

Two more men on horseback gallop into town, and begin to stable their horse in the public stables next to a common tavern.
The taller of the two quickly dismounts and secures his light horse into one of the better built horse pens. The young cavalier wears a high quality chainmail armor with a tabard emblazoned with a roaring lion.
"Walden", says Ser Jonith, addressing his squire, "please make sure both horses and fed, watered, and brushed down, with my lance secured."

Wide eyed with the instructions before him, the light blue-haied young man responds, "Ser Jonith! You will not be assisting me with the care of the mounts?

"Not this time", spoke the cavalier. "It has been several weeks since I've had the pleasure of the company of my fellow knights, other than Ser Lady Marcia, of course, and I am eager to met with them. As you well know, it is a rare event that care of the horse are solely yours, so do not despair. Once you have completed the tasks to my level of satisfaction, I wish you to join me, as always", nodded Sir Jonith.

"Yes, Ser", said Walden, as he straightened his posture. With a small, wry smile, the squire continued. "Who knows, Ser Jonith. Perhaps the Fates will conspire to have Ser Lady Tanith in attendance".

With a furrowed brow, Ser Jonith responds, "Try not to take too long, Walden, lest I add destoning the hooves to your list of tasks." With that, Ser Jonith walked up to the doors of the tavern. Checking the bulge of his belt pouch to make sure he had his coinage (and deck of cards) on his person, the cavalier opens the doors and walks into the building.

Looking around the large room, Ser Jonith immediately notices the ragged visage of Ser Dealan, and is surprised to see the countenance of Crown Prince Gawain! He walks quickly to both men, smiling quickly to both squires in attendance, giving Dealean a knightly salute, and Gawain a low, courtly bow.