text: ound here, but why don't they place it on the floor?" asks Tyrwill. Since there are no dogs with you, you fear it must be meant for you. Bomboulos is just staring at it and it seems, if you give him some time, he'll probably come to the same conclusion. So you'll allow him the honor to explain it to the rest of your friends and continue your conversation with Orlag.
  
  "Perhaps you're right..." you say, while you stroke your chin. Hoping nobody notices that you don't have any idea how.
  
  "And that's were inns are for, there are always a few who know every rumor," says Orlag while he slowly observes the room, then he stands up and walks towards a man in a corner. He has a thick beard, with pieces of his last meal still in it. He's smoking a pipe and doesn't seem surprised in the slightest when Orlag approaches him. They exchange a few words and the man smiles. Then he kicks back his char and comes to you, it seems he already drank quite a bit. He rudely plops down in a chair opposite of you and shows his dirty brown teeth.
  
  "So our little kiddo wants some information eh? Well the only information I'm willing to give away for free is... that all my information has a price, measured in gold crowns," says the man while he rubbing his thumb against his index and middle finger. He also probably thinking he's funny with that low-class joke. Since even a monkey can tell that you're rich, he's probably assuming he's sitting across a golden goose. Although he's right, you don't have the habit of being accommodating to rude beggars.
  
  Fame: Nobody knows you and probably nobody cares. (25)
  Popularity: You're a knight, they're peasants. They're completely indifferent to you. (-10)
  
  > persuade him to give it for free.
  How kind of him, to give something away for free. Why shouldn't you follow his example? You snap your fingers and the next moment, four members of your personal guard surround him. They grab him and take him away for a brief private discussion. Soon he will learn that they are true Samaritans, the amount of brute violence they give away for free is just shocking.
  
  A moment later he's sitting back across you, now with a blue eye, broken teeth, and a few missing fingers, but a lot more polite this time. "Aaah! Have mercy!! My lord! I'll tell you anything you wish to know! So please spare me!!"
  
  How eager to help all of a sudden. "Where was the bandit, called Ragnar, last sighted?"
  
  "To the east, near the village of Hyn!"
  
  Fame: Nobody knows you and probably nobody cares. (25)
  Popularity: You're a knight, they're peasants. They're completely indifferent to you. (-20)
  
  > Continue.
  After you're done dealing with him, you politely request him to leave. While your guards drag him away, it seems Bomboulos has finally processed that the thing before him is his food. Furiously he jumps up and screams, "T-This is an insult to a true gourmet!" Well, well, you always thought he would stuff himself with anything even remotely edible, but it seems he's got standards too. The rest of your knight order doesn't seem to be pleased with the food either. Except for Orlag, he probably got some peasant blood somewhere.
  
  Hallas also refuses to touch the food, but that doesn't apply to the beer. "The food ain't much, but the booze is still okay!"
  
  "Really? Looks more like horse piss to me," says Fariera. She wipes her hand with a silk handkerchief after touching the mug. She's a bit exaggerating this time, in your opinion.
  
  At least that is what you think until one of the peasants at another table yells, "And what exactly is wrong with horse piss??! Burp!" Hallas spits out his drink, making the dinner even more unappetizing. Although the peasant looks quite drunk and may be lying, none of you feel any need to verify it.
  
  The next day, you're on the road again and traveling to the village of Hyn. The night at the inn is a subject you'd rather not talk about. Let's say this, the bed was as bad as the food. End of subject. An hour later you arrive at the village of Hyn, where everything still seems fine. Smoke is coming out of the chimney, the children are playing on the streets and the peasants are working in the fields. And like always, none of the peasants knows anything even remotely useful.
  
  Luckily an exhausted peasant arrives at the village, looking for aid. "Help! Bandits attacked my village! Please, somebody, help!" Unfortunately, the peasant doesn't know if it's the bandits you're looking for, but he's at least capable of giving you the directions to his village. Less than a half hour later, you arrive at the village in question, which has already turned into a smoking ruin. It seems you're too late. Fleeing peasants have never been known for being fast. One of your soldiers inspects the tracks on the road and reports he probably went further south. Honestly said, it's a little embarrassing that the same thing is happening to you which happened to those nobles. What next?
  
  Fame: Nobody knows you and probably nobody cares. (25)
  Popularity: You're a knight, they're peasants. They're completely indifferent to you. (-20)
  
  > look for any survivors.
  You order your soldiers to spread out and search for any survivors. Slowly you direct your horse through the smoldering buildings and look at the corpses, sprawled on the road. It's a gruesome sight, one you have never witnessed before.
  
  "What?? we hurried here for nothing and now we're wasting time?" yells Bomboulos, while he gives voice to everybody's displeasure. "We must probably be the most unfortunate people in the whole world! Why won't the heavens look kindly on us for once? My poor sore butt, it hurts so much!!"
  
  While Bomboulos is wailing about his misery, Fariera points to a nearby tree and lifts her brown. "Isn't that person a tiny little bit more miserable than you, poser?" You all follow Fariera's finger and there you see a tattered corpse hanging on a branch. It seems he was brutally tortured before his death.
  
  "Pff! That doesn't count! He's a peasant, they got an unfair advantage when it comes to being miserable," says Bomboulos, while he waves Fariera's objection away.
  
  Fame: Nobody knows you and probably nobody cares. (25)
  Popularity: You're a knight, they're peasants. They're completely indifferent to you. (-20)
  
  > Yes, you're more miserable.
  Who cares that somebody lost his home and family? Whether they lost a loved one or an arm, whether they were tortured, it doesn't matter. You're far more miserable, that's for sure. Even the smallest inconvenience that you're experiencing, weights far more than all the misery in this village added together! Then the peasant, that came begging for help, arrives at his village and falls down on his knees while crying. And he's beginning to hit the ground with his fists while yelling, "No! No, no! Why!?"
  
  Such a boorish fool, can he not see that you're far more miserable than him? You're in this backwater hole in order not to lose your crown. Your noble quest is plagued by bad food, an uncomfortable bed and lots of dumb peasants. You must be the most unfortunate and saddest person in the world! If your tale ever gets recorded in some kind of journal, the person reading it will surely empathize with you.
  
  After a long wait, it seems one of those maggots managed to survive. Peasants are really as persistent as weeds. Two of your soldiers bring a bruised boy towards you. According to his story, his mother hid him in a secret storage room before she was killed. Luckily the piece of luggage also managed to do something good, he overheard Ragnar speaking to the rest of the bandits. They're going to pretend to head south, in order to shake off any possible pursuers. But then they'll bow off to the west and attack the village of Dreine.
  
  Now you can finally catch Ragnar and be done with it. You leave the boy behind, the man can look after him. They can be eternally grateful for those few gold crowns you threw at their feet.
  
  Fame: Nobody knows you and probably nobody cares. (25)
  Popularity: You're a knight, they're peasants. They're completely indifferent to you. (-20)
  
  > Continue.
  It doesn't take long to get to the village of Dreine, and certainly not on horseback, but it seems the bandits still managed to arrive at the village before you. But at least this time you're not too late, the bandits are still busy attacking the village. Two houses are on fire and the villagers are trying to fight the bandits. When the bandits spot the heavy cavalry charging towards them, they're first stupefied because of their sheer numbers and then they run like rabbits. In mere seconds the hunters have become the prey. Your soldiers tear through them even faster than the bandits were killing the villagers earlier.
  
  The knights of the Golden Sun have arrived! They're strong and fearless, as they encourage the soldiers from behind. Important people never ride at the front during a battle, that's common sense. Before you have the time to drink a cup of tea, the bandits have already been defeated.
  
  Fame: Nobody knows you and probably nobody cares. (25)
  Popularity: You're a knight, they're peasants. They're completely indifferent to you. (-20)
  
  > Continue.
  Then two of your soldiers bring a large man, with his hands tied behind his back, before you. He has a large black beard and two dark eyes that look remarkably alert for a bandit. He's wearing rough clothes made of wolf-skin. So you meet the famous Ragnar at last. He doesn't look that scary to you, especially when your soldiers push him down on his knees and place a blade at his throat.
  
  As you are curiously observing him, he suddenly begins to laugh. "Ha Ha, is this the part where I'm supposed to beg for my life? I, the great bandit king Ragnar, beg to some snot-nosed brat?! Ha Ha!"
  
  "Hey! we're the knights of the Golden Sun!" yells Tyrwill. You understand that's she's pissed off, but why must the most childish one of your entire company be the first one to object?
  
  "Knights? You?! Ha ha, a bunch of clowns on horses that's what you are!" laughs Ragnar. For a moment you wonder how he would react if you told him that this 'bunch of clowns' are the young elite of Lorimur. Perhaps better not.
  
  "You mongrel! I honestly bought my...Au!" begins Bomboulos, but you give him a kick against his leg. Now is not the time to say how he got his title.
  
  More importantly, what are you going to do with him?
  
  Fame: Nobody knows you and probably nobody cares. (25)
  Popularity: You're a knight, they're peasants. They're completely indifferent to you. (-20)
  
  > kill them all, right here right now.
  You have neither mercy nor time for lowly bandits, so you snap with your fingers and your soldiers begin the executions. Then the corpses are piled up and set aflame. Quite an impressive bonfire to celebrate the success of your first successful quest. The peasants will be grateful.
  
  Of course, Ragnar's head is brought back to Valinor, as proof that justice has been served and to mock the nobles for their incompetence. You even receive something that resembles an apology from them for doubting you.
  
  Fame: People know you, yet all too often you're seen as just 'an important somebody'. (55)
  Popularity: You're a knight, they're peasants. They're completely indifferent to you. (0)
  
  > Tourney
  A few weeks after your last campaign, you and your buddies are sitting at a large table in the castle. Considering that this place is severely lacking compared to your father's royal palace, it's still surprisingly fun. Perhaps the best thing is that this castle doesn't belong to your father. Okay 'officially' it belongs to the nobles here, but in reality, it belongs to Lorimur. So it's your father's property in a certain way, but he isn't here. Here nobody tells you what you should or shouldn't do. Okay, they do, but you can completely ignore it and pretend they didn't say anything. It's a new kind of freedom, and frankly said, you begin to like the taste of it.
  
  So life is good and well, but also a tad bit boring. Perhaps the time has come to do what knights usually do? Whatever that may be... "Does anybody know what a knight usually does?"
  
  "Uh... eating and killing bandits of course!" says Bomboulos. He isn't completely wrong, but you're pretty sure that 'eating' isn't something exclusively for knights. And besides, after that 'Ragnar problem', you have had it with bandits for now.
  
  "Defending the helpless and innocent?" proposes Tyrwill.
  
  Luckily Fariera quickly points out the problems in her suggestion. "That's only a 'guideline' not an activity by itself. Besides if we really took such a lame statement literary, there would be no end to the worthless people we would have to save."
  
  "Hmm, what about a tourney then? It's how knights get to know each other and match themselves against worthy foes. In my opinion, it would be a great opportunity to spread your name across the land," asks Orlag.
  
  Hallas groans and rolls with his eyes when he hears this. "A tourney? That sounds like a real pain. You should know better than anybody that we normally don't associate ourselves with other inferior...I mean common knights."
  
  Indeed he's right, all the other knights left Valinor when they saw that you and your order got the respect that you rightfully deserved. And those who were whining about 'unfair' and 'unequal treatment' got thrown out by your guards, who were deeply offended by these false accusations. So at the moment, the Golden Sun is the only knight order present in the entirety of Valinor. Well, it's not that big in the first place, it's already too small for just the six of you!
  
  But a tourney, although it might sound a bit cliché, it might increase your fame substantially. It might not be such a bad idea if you're confident that you and your fellow knights will outclass any possible competition.
  
  Fame: People know you, yet all too often you're seen as just 'an important somebody'. (55)
  Popularity: You're a knight, they're peasants. They're completely indifferent to you. (0)
  
  > let's organize a tourney.
  Soon multiple heralds, bearing a unique message, travel across the lands. "Hear ye, hear ye! To all those brothers and sisters who righteously hold the sword of chivalry. A great honor has been bestowed on all of you. The privilege to attend the grand tourney of Valinor, organized by the glorious knights of the Golden Sun themselves. Prepare your finest horse, sharpen your favorite sword, polish your armor and ready your lance, honorable knights. And ride out towards Valinor, to test yourself against the greatest knights of our age!"
  
  Although there are some ingrates, that claim they never have even heard about this 'order of the Golden Sun' and assume it's a scam, most of the knights cannot resist the lure of a possible tourney. Therefore many knights flock towards Valinor, along with merchants and over-excited peasants. The merchants smell money and business opportunities and the peasants... have come to cheer, while dreaming about being a knight one day. Of course, only the knights, the lords of the lands, may participate. Just imagine a contest where any random nobody could participate, how ugly would that get. But those miserable dregs of society deserve some entertainment too once in a while... before they return back to their shacks to toil away in the dirt. They have been allowed to cheer you on.
  
  In almost no time, a huge tent encampment sprouts on the plains outside Valinor. Countless banners of minor nobles rise above the tents. The majority of them are unimportant nobodies with no spectacular history or adequate wealth and power. It did surprise you at first, but then you remembered. Technically every knight can be more or less considered as being part of the nobility and can their own family crest. Anyway, with the countless, knights, merchants, peasants and the occasional thief, the tent encampment has become something akin to a small bustling town.
  
  You and the rest of your order, are currently hard at work preparing for the tournament that will soon start. You're currently leaning back in a large comfortable chair inside your tent, while you let your legs rest on a footstool with a fine pillow on it. A cup of tea in your right hand and the rest of your friends sitting at your side. Supervising how verything progresses is a far more tiring task than you initially anticipated. Luckily there's a ring of soldiers surrounding your tent, in order to keep the upstart knights and other annoying people at bay.
  
  Then one of your servants enters, bows deeply and presents you the planned program for the tournament. It's the usual archery competition, horse racing, and the knightly duels thing, the one where you use your lance for something else than roasting meat above the campfire. Then announcing you... ahem, the still completely 'unknown' winner as the undisputed champion. You'll... ahem, the champion will receive 1000 gold crowns as a reward and then everybody can go back home. That said, is there anything you would like to add? You know, to make the competition a bit more fun or exciting?
  
  Hallas suggestion about, 'Gathering dead row prisoners and hunt them down while riding on war chariots,' might be going a bit overboard though.
  
  Fame: At least people are now capable of distinguishing the esteemed you from the other common knight rabble. (65)
  Popularity: You're a knight, they're peasants. They're completely indifferent to you. (0)
  
  > distribute bread and wine to the peasants.
  Your grand stage needs an audience and what better motivation can you give them than 'free food and drinks' to make them come? Those lowly peasants will be overjoyed with your generosity. Besides, it may help persuade the uneducated peasants, that don't know you well enough yet, to cheer for you. Of course, they would still have cheered if your soldiers occasionally reminded them by poking the pointy end of their spears in their backs. But now the peasants may cheer a bit more convincing.
  
  Fame: At least people are now capable of distinguishing the esteemed you from the other common knight rabble. (65)
  Popularity: Most peasants speak about you in a positive light, no bribing required. (40)
  
  > Continue.
  After the servant leaves, another man enters the tent. He has long brown hair and a thick beard, both equally dirty. It seems this one has not seen a proper bath for over a year. He's wearing a rusty and dented piece of... armor? He creates stains on the red carpet with his dirty worn out boots as he confidently walks towards you. With his light blue eyes, he carefully examines your company and then makes a formal greeting. "I'm Fladius Galanheart and for the first time, I have the opportunity to witness the 'legendary' knights of the Golden Sun with my own eyes. Finally without all the flowery words and overly exaggerated claims of the heralds."
  
  "What? Is this some peasant with a severe case of megalomania? How did he get through?" asks Bomboulos to the guard that entered behind Fladius. He has a point for once, so you also curiously gaze at the guard.
  
  "Your High... I mean my lord, my sincere apologies. But this 'Sir' claimed to be an important knight and was quite... persistent to meet your greatness in person," says the guard. Which begs the question, why was your guard stupid enough to believe that? In these kinds of backwater monkey hills, every now and then 'somebody important' pops up.
  
  Then Fladius shows a candid smile, laughs and begins to dig with his right hand into his pocket. A second later he takes out a crumpled old letter. "Haha, it's true I look a bit haggard from the life on the road. But I'm an honored member of the order of the Winged Lion, this letter from the Queen of Culin confirms it."
  
  "That's not a letter, that's a tattered dirty rag...," remarks Fariera. "Besides while you were sleeping in the gutter somewhere down the road, the situation in Culin has changed somewhat. If my memory serves me correctly, there's no queen anymore in Culin. Because it got annexed last year by Lorimur, after an incident with that insolent diplomat and the honorable crown prince. So the 'kingdom' of Culin, can now better be described as a 'province' of Lorimur." Then she quickly cast an amused glance at you, it seems she's enjoying herself. You can still vividly remember your father's sermon, although it totally wasn't your fault at all. Then she looks at Fladius again and continues. "...And the 'knight order of the Winged Lion' was completely eradicated in the process because they foolishly refused to accept Lorimur's supremacy. So all you got is a dirty scrap of paper that tells us you're an honored member of an order that doesn't exist anymore. Haha, then it might as well read, Fladdy the honored squire of the beggar's order!"
  
  "You're wrong!" yells Fladius. "I'm fully aware of what happened to my kingdom and my order, but you don't understand it, do you? My kingdom is not a king or queen, or some name on a map. It's the people, the kind and hardworking folk, that define whether a nation exists or not. Call it whatever you like, but in the hearts of the people, the kingdom of Culin still exists. And as long as I hold true to my vows, the honor of my order will never fade."
  
  "Pff, if a nation isn't on the map, it doesn't exist!" laughs Tyrwill. "And does that mean you're the last of your order?"
  
  "I'm a free knight now and through me, the ideals of my order live on for all eternity," says Fladius, while he narrows his eyes as he looks at Fariera and Tyrwill.
  
  "Ha ha, what a farce! A 'free' knight? You mean a homeless vagabond without an order or a fief, right?" laughs Hallas.
  
  "One doesn't need gold crowns to wield one's sword and uphold one's vows. Some knights seem to be so busy swimming in the gold crowns, that they apparently barely have any time left over to maintain their vows," says Fladius. It seems that with 'some knights' he means you.
  
  Well, perhaps the time has come for the leader to speak up before the hostilities get out of hand. Although Fladius title isn't worth a dime anymore and he's piss poor, he seems to be fairly honest and straightforward. Which are rare qualities in this day and age, so what are you going to do?
  
  Fame: At least people are now capable of distinguishing the esteemed you from the other common knight rabble. (65)
  Popularity: Most peasants speak about you in a positive light, no bribing required. (40)
  
  > request for him to take his leave.
  "Well, I guess it was... interesting to meet an unusual knight like you. But perhaps it's for the best that you take your leave, we have still some important matters to discuss," do you say.
  
  Fladius only smirks contemptuously and crosses his arms before his chest. "Oh? Or perhaps the 'great knights of the Golden Sun' find it offensive to be in my presence. If I'm not mistaken, your order hails from Lorimur, right? It seems the rumors are true, its knights are as overbearing as the nation they serve. But a knight needs to have the ability to back up his or her words. So if you want me to leave, make me leave!"
  
  It turns out that was exactly what you were going to do. What you just said was only the polite form of, 'Throw the beggar, that's pretending to be a knight, out!' But why does Fladius seem to be acting under the assumption, that you're going to lower yourself and do it personally? Luckily the guard, who entered together with Fladius, ends the silly misunderstanding by placing his hand on Fladius shoulder. "The young lord, doesn't wish to be disturbed anymore."
  
  "Ha ha, It seems the great knights of Lorimur aren't capable of doing anything by themselves. One wrong word and their lackey jumps in," laughs Fladius, while he coldly glances at the soldier behind him.
  
  "How difficult...," mutters Bomboulos. "You might be unaware, but that's only a measure to keep the riffraff at bay. Unlike you, we can't afford to waste too much of our valuable time on pointless duels. So we have a 'gatekeeper' to weed out the unworthy challengers. Defeating him can be considered the entry bar, to be allowed to issue a challenge towards us." Quite a good excuse, but he 'accidentally' forgot to mention this 'entry bar' is one of your elite soldiers. A warrior trained with the sword from his childhood early on, by the finest instructors of the royal family.
  
  So when Fladius nods and agrees to the proposal, you can already foresee the insolent beggar-knight getting beaten to a bloody pulp. "Then it's settled, knight Fladius will duel him, in order to receive the right to challenge any one of us."
  
  You and the other knights accompany them outside, it's going to be a spectacle nobody wants to miss. Outside the tent, a circle of spectators has formed around the two contestants. "It will be a match in swordsmanship and will continue until there's a clear winner or one of the two parties surrenders." After all, if they stopped at 'first blood' the likelihood of an unfortunate 'accident' would be somewhat lower. On your signal, the match begins.
  
  "Ha ha! Come at me, ill-mannered lackey! I have other 'great knights' to challenge after dealing with you," laughs Fladius, while he confidently provokes the soldier.
  
  Then your guard slowly approaches him and then suddenly lunges forward, while his sword makes a large downwards swing. It seems he immediately makes a mistake, he almost loses his balance and leaves his left flank open. Luckily Fladius doesn't seem to be that skilled and he fails to exploit the opening. In fact, he even jumps backward, while quickly raising his sword. All in all, it's not that spectacular, you would probably have done better.
  
  "Ha ha, you surely showed me!" laughs Fladius. "Well it's my own fault for looking down on you, so I can hardly blame you for using such an exaggerated move to fool me. I assumed you were just a lackey and ended up underestimating you, but you gotta work on your acting skills. Nobody would be stupid enough to fall for such an obvious false opening!"
  
  The guard only coldly smiles and skilfully rotates the sword in his hand. The next instant his sword shoots out lightning quick, almost like a snake, but Fladius manages to deflect it. Then they exchange a fury of blows, you can barely follow what's happening. Then both fighters take their distance again as if they're slowly scanning their opponent for any possible weaknesses. It's quite surprising, it seems they're equally skilled. Not that much of a problem by itself, but the fact remains you didn't see through the faint at first glance. Slowly you peek out of the corner of your eyes at Bomboulos, to check if you were the only one that didn't see through it. Judging from his bulging eyes and wide open mouth, the answer is no.
  
  The match continues intensely for a few more minutes before it's finally decided. Although Fladius receives a bloody cut on his arm, he manages to disarm the guard. After his victory, he has now earned the right to challenge you. Curse Bomboulos and his stupid idea. This has gotten pretty troublesome because you're not 100% sure you would win. Luckily... or should we say 'unfortunately', he has received an injury. "Congratulations Sir Fladius! But I see you received quite the nasty cut, that means our match will have to wait until you have fully recovered. My honor wouldn't allow me to challenge somebody when he or she isn't in perfect condition." Since you're exploiting the 'fair play' card, he has no other option than to agree. After the match is concluded he leaves.
  
  Meanwhile, Hallas is busy whispering something against two masked people. Then he points towards Fladius departing back and slowly drags his thumb across his throat. He's probably telling them, that they should help Fladius shave, how unexpectedly kind of him. You always thought Hallas was quite the narrow-minded type.
  
  Then Fariera appears beside you and whispers in your ear, "Your Highness, although I don't mean to belittle your abilities, perhaps we should try to... slightly adjust our odds in this tourney." Everything else considered she's got a point.
  
  Fame: At least people are now capable of distinguishing the esteemed you from the other common knight rabble. (65)
  Popularity: You're a knight, they're peasants. They're completely indifferent to you. (20)
  
  > No, we'll compete fair and square!
  Then finally the long-awaited tourney starts, hundred of knights and their squires move towards a grass field. The grass field has been enclosed by a wooden fence for this occasion and the audience can stand behind it. Of course, the more important people can sit on a wooden tribune, with a splendid view. For a moment you wish you could sit over there as well, in a large comfortable chair with a cup of tea. But unfortunately you're a participant at the moment, so your chair has been placed on the grass field and therefore you don't enjoy such a good view.
  
  The archery competition is first, then the horse race and finally the duels. The heralds start with announcing who's going to participate, so it's a tad bit boring. Of course, as soon as you're announced, all the peasants release a deafening cheer. Countless mugs are raised to encourage you. Well, most of the other participants are only here to make up the numbers, so you're not really paying that much attention to them. But there's one odd name that draws your attention, Iselda Esendal, isn't that one of the major nobles? These days, literally anybody can call himself or herself a knight.
  
  The first part of the competition begins. First, they shoot at standing targets, then moving bags of sand, and finally from horseback. Although it's quite an exciting competition, the results of your knight order are downright disastrous. It turns out, Tyrwill never even once used a bow in her whole life and she was stuck figuring out how the arrow would fit on it. Fariera stole almost all the hearts of the men present away, as she beautifully drew her elegant and delicate bow. Unfortunately, the refined piece of art ended up snapping in two, when she applied too much force on the bowstring. Hallas performed the best of them all, but unfortunately he 'accidentally' leaned too far over the line and used a crossbow, which was against the rules. So he was disqualified. Didn't he listen, when you said, 'We're going to compete fairly?' Anyway, Bomboulos was the icing on the cake when he tried to fire of solid golden arrows with his golden bow. Let's just say, that it was far less practical than he had originally envisioned. Only you and Orlag more or less managed to produce an acceptable result. But compared to the rest of your rivals, it was severely lacking.
  
  The result was obvious You ended at place 183, Orlag at 187th and the rest of your order was drop dead last. Orlag claimed that archery never was his forte.
  
  Next was the horse race, from the starting line until the finish, ten kilometers further. It went exactly the same way as the archery competition. Although you and your knights posses the finest horses in all of Lorimur, you were all a bit lacking on the riding skills aspect. Fariera even rode on the most elegant horse of them all, with an exeptionally graceful pace. It would have looked great in a procession, but it wasn't exactly the fastest horse around. In fact, some enthusiastic peasants overtook her on foot. Tyrwill tried her best, but she fell off her horse a mere hundred meters into the race and was carried off. Even now you still don't know what went trough Bomboulos mind. He decided to wear his lucky charm made out of solid gold, his slippers and his saddlebags filled with snacks. It only ended up increasing the massive weight of Bomboulos, the walking treasure chest, even further. He was also the only one, that seemed to be surprised that his horse never reached the finish line. To make matters even worse, you received multiple complaints about Hallas and his aggressive riding style during the race. It seems he drove a few contestants from the road with his six-span war-chariot. Also since only a single horse was allowed, he was disqualified once again.
  
  And unsurprisingly the results were more or less the same as in the first part of the competition. You ended at place 123, while Orlag at 76th and the rest of the order didn't even manage to finish the race and weren't counted anymore. Surprisingly Iselda somehow ended up winning this part of the competition. Her provoking smile was somewhat annoying, but you weren't in the position to retort much.
  
  With this, the first day of the competition comes to an end.
  
  Fame: At least people are now capable of distinguishing the esteemed you from the other common knight rabble. (60)
  Popularity: Most peasants speak about you in a positive light, no bribing required. (40)
  
  > Continue.
  That same evening, the memebers of your order are holding an emergency meeting. Although your relations with the other knight orders have improved somewhat and you're a bit more famous now, your fellow knights have become a laughing stock. "So what do all of you have to say? Am I the leader of the knights of the Golden Sun or the manager of a circus full of clowns and oddities?" do you ask, while you intensely peer at the bunch of pathetic losers sitting around the table.
  
  "Your Highness, we only had a few small setbacks, simply because this competition doesn't align perfectly with our expertise," says Fariera.
  
  "But do not fret boss! I ordered a special lance f