As a wandering-knight, it is my duty to represent the righteousness of my kingdom wherever I go, assisting all those in need. And whenever I'm in a difficult situation I always think to myself;

"What our most esteemed founder, Lord-Protector Moseby, do in this situation?"

That question has never failed me, except for today.

I do not believe even he, in all his wisdom, would know what the devil is happening here.

It all started when I accepted a quest to save an orcen princess. I've saved many princesses, but an orcen one was a new experience! I wondered what it might be like! I figured she might be some kind of warrior, considering how central combat and fighting is to the orcen culture.

The rescue was the first red flag. It was my 32nd princess rescue at the time, after all. Just liberating a few marauding goblins of their existence and smashing open a dungeon wall. And yet, there she was, free shackles and holding her weapon, still wedged into the skull of one of her captors.

'Oh hello, Sir Knight! You must've been sent to save me! I would've made my way out but neither of these two have a key for the door!'

I tried to ignore it. Many people gain surprising ability in desperation, even towering orc ladies.

No, the strangest part was the journey back.

I was partially correct on my assumptions. She was indeed a warrior. A tall and menacing figure, taller than I, with a large club lined with steel at its end. A devastating weapon that delivered devastating blows.

Yet simultaneously I was so very wrong. Princess Idente, she insisted I call her, was yet more princess than she was warrior. She apologised profusely for her indecent state after being rescued, which I lent my coat to her to remedy. She ate the rations I had given her at camp with spoon and fork! She even curtsied before clobbering a troll's head in as a 'sign of respect'! A peculiar lady, who insisted I help her retrieve her tiara from some bandits whom it had been sold to.

When you have a 7-8 foot tall orc with a steel-lined club, you can figure out for oneself how that encounter ended.

She pried that tiara from the cold, bloodied and terrified hands of that bandit. I was utterly aghast I must say.

When at last I took her back to the palace from whence she came, I was surprised. The king and queen, who most certainly must be parents of the terrifying Miss Idente, were both themselves as human as I!

When all was said and done, I left with some 90 odd gold to my name. Enough supplies to get me to the next city. But the gold was not important, I was simply glad not to be anywhere near that princess.

She seems a nice and fair lady, but in battle she is a nice and fair beast. Truly, terrifying.