DOUSE

As the longsword Wyrmspite blazes to it's fiery glory with the word of power, Sir Tor with a mighty cleave beheaded the drake that was keeping the princess captive.

IGNITE

With that word, Wyrmspite douses it's flames and Sir Tor sheathes the sword.

Approaching the cage that held the princess, he had a look at the lock and balling his armored fist, gave it a good solid punch.

ARGH! Damned arthritis... ...

Shaking his fist in pain, he drew Wyrmspite and prepare to smite the lock.

Sorry old friend but I am not that young anymore.

As the lock laid broken and defeated, Sir Tor pick the princess (who had swooned as princesses are suppose to do) and left the dragon drake's lair. He mount his mighty stallion Windcharger and placing the still swooned princess on the pack mule proceeded to return to his manor.

As Windcharger pranced into the courtyard, there was no jubilation. There was no mobs of serfs or peons cheering him. His courtyard was unkempt, the walls were moss covered and the porticullis creaks as loud as his bones when raised or lowered.

For Sir Tor was a knight of 40 winters. He was no longer the dexterous hulk of his younger years. His plate mail hung loose on his shoulders and did not cover much of his expanding stomach. He has long forgone using his great helm, not because of his experience but rather it hurts his neck and restricted his hearing and vision (of what little that he has left).

He could not provide to keep serfs or peons. He had no squires to wait on him as what use do they have of him, an old knight useless in tournaments and poor in coin.

By nevertheless, like the triumphant knight of old, he tied Windcharger in the stables and cradling the princess, he made for the great hall where his wife and 2 daughters were waiting for his return.

Milady, this here is the captured princess whom I have saved for the drake. Let her into the guest bedroom and to recover for her torments.

Me girls, treat her as you would she be your sister. Give her your finest gowns, your scented water and bathe her as you would yourself.

And so he sat down to dine and to rest his weary bones.

A few days have past hence and the princess has regained her colour and her composure. She was one of regal bearing and royal blood. But humble. She did not command the lady of the manor or her daughters to do tasks nor did she turn her nose at the dilapidated conditions of the manor.

During Evening Fest, the princess stated to Sir Tor

My Good and Gallant Sir Tor, as you have rescued me, duty dictates that I am betrothed to you as just rewards for your deeds.

Sir Tor who was partaking of his soup, started choking and spluttering

My beautiful and delicate princess, that was never my intent for rescuing you. As you can see, I have milady (gestures to her) and my two daughters who are akin to sisters to you in age.

Neigh I say. I will not dishonor milady by breaking my vows to her nor bring gossip into my house by taking one such as young and delicate as yourself.

Sir Tor, it has been decreed by my father, the King of Ashtoria, that whomsoever rescues me will earn his eternal gratitude and that I be given to my rescuer as a reward for the valiant deed.

Now, the land of Ashtoria border the land of Oakenfelt when Sir Tor reside. Ashtoria has nil imperial sway over Sir Tor and hence cannot compel Sir Tor to comply. But age and experience has taught Sir Tor, tolerance is always the road to a long life.

My beautiful princess, please give a day to discuss this with milady and my daughters. It is not a decision to take lightly or in haste.

As so Sir Tor and his family retire to another room and they discussed. They realise that they did not want to anger Ashtoria but they were contented with who they were. The discussion went long into the night but they have come to a decision and it was agreed that Sir Tor will respond on tomorrow's evening fest.

As they sat down for evening fest, Sir Tor at the head of table signal for attention and spoke

As the king of Ashtoria has decreed, whomsoever saves the princess will earn the just reward of being given the princess for the deed.

While my family resides in the lands of Oakenfelt, we are closer to Ashtoria than to Oakenfelt.

And my age has shown me that it is better to have friends than to make enemies.

Hence, my beautiful and delicate princess, is it of free will that you give yourself to my household and myself? As a just reward for my valiant deed of freeing you from the drake?

With coquettish eyes looking at the knight, the Princess said

Yes, I do. It is of my own free will and desire that I be taken into your household and am bestow upon yourself as a just reward.

Very well then. Princess. If you will so kind as to put your intentions onto this parchment, I will have it courier to your father, the King, so hence he knows I have slayed the drake and claim my just rewards so that nil other can lay claim or raise arms against me in protest.

The Princess thought to herself and so with this parchment, I will get my hands on Wyrmspite and Windcharger by the next moon. You are an old man playing at a being knight. Your lady is no better than a fish monger's wife and your daughters will not survive a night in the sordid house of pleasures when I kick them out.

Yes, I will lie with you. I will give you one of pleasure with my body. I will make you feel euphoria, ecstasy and pleasures that your body cannot think of achieving with your fish monger's wife. And then you will be dead the next as the medicine that I give you for regain the vigor of a oak shaft will also render your heart asunder.

My Princess, my princess.

The parchment...

Please endorse the parchment and I have sent to your father the king immediately.

With a flourish of the quill, the Princess signed the parchment, sand was poured upon the ink, a courier was called for and dispatched to the land of Ashtoria. To present the Princess intentions to her father, the King.

As so the deed is done.

Welcome to my humble abode and manor. Princess CINDERELLA.