[Re-Introduction: Sir Dinadan]

[rebecs_with_the_straps]

Dinadan awakens, which is already several positive steps ahead of where he thought he'd be this morning (viz. in the void from which there is no awakening, or in the hereafter that he has done nothing particularly to avoid). A giddy thrill of relief washes through him. He cautiously cracks one eye open, and then the other. For a moment, the sunlight's brightness overwhelms him--an aching reminder that he is, somehow, alive.

But as the sunlight becomes bearable, he realizes that he is somehow, impossibly, once again, in Sagramore's cabbages.


"Christ, do you really only have one joke?" he calls to the sky--but he's grinning all the same. A life condemned to cabbages is better than a death condemned to Hell or the void, and given those are the only two options, he'll gladly take the cabbages.

Friends and strangers may find a tall, blond knight minstrel wandering around in Sagramore's borrowed clothes, occasionally strumming his rebec, definitely not touching anything he shouldn't.

Comments

[rebecs_with_the_straps]

"I can see why you and Sagramore are friends."

[futaille]

"That self-evident?"

[rebecs_with_the_straps]

"He also had a number of friends who were forced to take his ridiculous in stride."

[futaille]

"Forced? More like given the sublime opportunity!"

[rebecs_with_the_straps]

"I like the way you think."

[futaille]

"I'm glad to hear it. If you disagreed, I would be disappointed."

[rebecs_with_the_straps]

"He seems happy to be here, and honestly it's the first time I've ever seen him happy to be somewhere, so it's good to see him appreciated as he deserves."

[futaille]

"The fact that he wasn't is truly a travesty."

[rebecs_with_the_straps]

"It is. No accounting for taste, I suppose."

[futaille]

"I suppose so. Of course, it's well known that people are largely idiots anyway."

[rebecs_with_the_straps]

"Is it well known, in your time? In mine, it was a dreadful heresy to say such things."

[futaille]

"I think most people are fully willing to believe it of everyone else."

[rebecs_with_the_straps]

"Ah, an interesting mystery--a truth that everyone knows and few will speak. There's a story in that, I'm sure."

[futaille]

"Oh, very likely. I'm not the type of person to say there's probably a story in anything, as some things are interminably dull and I can't imagine there being a story in them-- Although I suppose a dull story still qualifies, but that's beside the point-- but I am just as sure there are stories galore to be found in human idiocy."

[rebecs_with_the_straps]

"Well--tell me a story of Sagramore, while we're on that subject. I want to know what new buffoonery he's devised here."

[futaille]

"He and I had an art salon not long ago."

[rebecs_with_the_straps]

"Oh? Does he make art now?"

[futaille]

"Certainly! He specializes in invisible art but he is beginning to expand his domain."

[rebecs_with_the_straps]

"What's next for him, inaudible music? Tasteless cuisine? Odorless perfume?"

[futaille]

"Well, he's tried his hand at visible art first, but you offer some excellent suggestions! I should mention them to him."

[rebecs_with_the_straps]

"Visible art," says Dinadan haughtily. "Pandering to the masses."

[futaille]

"Sadly, my own meager talents have yet to progress beyond the visible myself. He outstrips me in every regard."

[rebecs_with_the_straps]

"Take heart! You're young yet; he's well advanced in his years. There's time to catch him up."

[futaille]

He laughs. "Ah yes, Sagramore the wizened elder."

[rebecs_with_the_straps]

"At least three years my elder. Possibly four."