poor roki

Roki was busy packing his things. His brow knit with frustration as he shoved what little knick-knacks and garments he could into his ruck. "It'll be alright, Roki, you... I mean, it's just a month!" Lemock tried to console his bunkmate. Roki but grumbled, going on with his furious packing...

Some time had passed since Roki’s misstep in battle with, as the Knights would soon learn, Rory Bellamy. Syr Noa had felt a twinge of pride that Roki had sorta-kinda-almost outwitted one of the Bloody Bellamy’s that were known to cause more trouble than Roki had. More importantly, she was glad...