FANPORT OVERFLOW LOG

[maskormods]

WHO: ImPorts!
WHERE: Heropa's Convention Centre.
WHEN: April 14-16, from 9 AM - 12 AM every day.
WHAT: Registration is in motion alongside FanPort, the most popular imPort convention around! Come on in and see imPort-led panels, the artist's alley, cosplayers, and more! If you have any questions, or wish to amend the way we have written up your characters' panels, let us know here! The original log can be found HERE.
WARNINGS: None anticipated; please let us know if this should be changed.

Comments

Keladry

[wizzardly]

((continued from here))

Eight years of training? [she hardly looks old enough to have put all that time in. Even wizards didn't leave for University until they were thirteen.]

And what's that last part? "The Ordeal"? Nothing about that sounds good.

[protects_the_small]

It's not like the army or navy, we have to learn to lead but also work on our own. Most nobles send their sons to get the education that comes with it.

[She grimaces]

The Ordeal is...Well, you have to survive it without speaking. No one's allowed to talk about what happens during it.

[Not that they would want to....]

[wizzardly]

Sorry, and you lot want to put yourselves through all of this? [Rincewind seems particularly stuck on this point.]

This isn't some mandatory service? You actually try to get beat about for eight years and go through some trial so horrible you can't even talk about it afterwards? It's voluntary?

[protects_the_small]

Of course, I wanted to be a knight.

[She glances at him, amused]

You don't have a very high opinion of such work, do you?

[wizzardly]

Do I have a very high opinion of a living made by killing other people? No. Sorry. I know it's meant to be for 'honor' or 'protection of the realm' and what not, but it's not something you'll ever see me wave a banner for.

[protects_the_small]

[Kel sighs through her nose, calling up her internal image of a mountain lake with nary a ripple on it.]

I'm not a mercenary, nor an assassin. I don't kill 'for a living'. I've done disaster relief, and trained refugees to fight when the army didn't deign to give us enough soldiers to protect us from an invading force. I've chased bandits, and brought supplies to a village about to slide into the sea after an earthquake.

There's plenty of ways to protect the realm. Sometimes it involves killing a person so they stop killing people who can't fight.

[She glances at him once, her eyes hard]

I help people. It's what I've always wanted to do.

[wizzardly]

[none of this seems to faze him. He takes another small sip from the bottle, listening politely as she lists all the things she does to help people, all the ways she's proven that knighthood is more than just swinging a sword.

Rincewind waits, and then he asks:]

And everyone else? Your fellow knights? Are they each just as honorable? When one of your number goes riding into a village - is it ever fear they're greeted with?

[he shrugs.] I could be wrong, of course. Your world isn't my world. Only, I find it difficult to believe that all those lovely things you listed - that that's all that attracts people to a life like that. Because there's something about the power there, isn't there? About being the tall person on the big horse with the shiny sword, that attracts a certain type. And in my experience, for that type... the draw is absolutely being able to kill. And what a bargain, that they can get medals for doing it.

[It was never Kel Rincewind doubted; she's practically just a more aware Twoflower, the sort who when they speak of justice and standing up for the little people, you only need to look into their eyes to know they actually mean it, the crazy buggers. But the Twoflowers of the world - of any world - will always be a rare breed among the hordes of thugs who never grew out of pulling the wings off anything smaller than them.]

[protects_the_small]

[Kel looks down and realizes her fists are clenched so that her knuckles are turning white. Somehow the vision of her mountain lake isn't helping anymore.]

You asked why I wanted to become a knight. And I told you.

[wizzardly]

[Rincewind is tipsily unobservant enough to miss the shift in mood. He shrugs.]

And you asked my opinion of it. So there you are.

For what it's worth, it would be higher if there were more like you.

[but there aren't, is the part which goes unspoken.]

[protects_the_small]

[Kel could argue. She could give list after list of men she's worked with, trained with, who believe and live the same Code she does. She could tell him about the ones who changed, or the ones who didn't get through, some at the cost of their lives.

She could....

But she's tired, and as she glances over at him, she can tell it would do exactly zero amount of difference.

Suddenly Kel wants to be home in a way she hasn't since she first stepped out of the porter.]

As you say. You are, of course, the expert on how it is in my world, and your experience is the one that matters.

[She stands and walks a few steps before turning and allowing herself one more last word]

I've noticed that the people who say 'Things won't change' are either the ones who don't want it to, or the ones too cowardly to even try.

[with that, she stalks down the hall, back straight with outrage]

[wizzardly]

[Rincewind realizes - late, far too late - that he's upset her somehow. He frowns his startled confusion, opens his mouth to ask something or other, but by then she's already prowling away from him. The wizard's mouth closes again, watching her proud, taut back until it's out of sight.

Damn. Rincewind glares down at his feet, disliking the strange sense of guilt curling his stomach. He never claimed to be a bloody expert. And change? Change what, exactly? Human nature? Change the way people are, the way he's always found them to be?

So he's disappointed her with his cowardice. ...Well, fine. He's used to that.]

Don't look at me like that. [muttered sideways to the Luggage and its wooden judgement.] Better she know who I am now.

[predictable silence answers him.

Rincewind tugs his hat down over his eyes.]