A tale of song, swords, and flowers

Chapter 1

Slowly Florian opened his eyes, groaning as he felt his head throb.

"This is why you need to lay off the ale old boy!" he mumbled to himself, mouth tasting as if it had been filled with dirt. It was only then that he realized there was actual dirt in his mouth and  Red hot  fire was coursing through his left ankle. "Bloody fucking hell!" He cursed, forcing his aching body into a seated position in a desperate attempt to gather his wits. "What the fuck happened?"

Only upon realizing that he was quite literally sprawled out in the middle of the road did the unpleasant memories make themselves known. "Oh my stars! Bandits! My horse, my loot, my clothes!... damn at all! Bloody fucking assholes!" Trembling with rage Florian made to stand, but cried out and collapsed to the ground upon trying to put weight on his injured foot. "Well this is just perfect!"

Sighing Florian attempted without success to brush some of the dust from his very naked torso, stopping mid motion upon hearing the unmistakable sound of hoofbeats. "Have The bastards come back to finish me off?" Yelping he managed to turn himself around to face the disturbance, catching sight of a loan figure  in gleaming armor sitting astride a Beautiful palomino.

The animal was practically flying through the distance between them, a trail of dust flying out like smoke behind its heels. "Oh dear! I don't think he's going to stop!" Screaming Florian through arms over his head in a desperate bid to protect himself as the warmth of the sun on his face was blocked by something large. What felt like a year had passed when he finally realize that, much to his surprise, nothing happened. "I'm not dead?"

"No" Chuckled a surprisingly high-pitched voice, forcing Florian to yet again open his eyes only to get a face full of very curious horse. Screeching in a manner that was not at all manly he scrambled backward an alarm, a pair of strong arms the only thing keeping him from ending up back face first in the dirt.

"Easy now... You're alright!"

"All right!" Florian snapped, wincing as he gently touched the back of his head, holding up fingers coated in red. "I am penniless, practically naked, unable to walk, and my head feels like it's been used for the anvil of a particularly heavy-handed blacksmith! I am by definition not  even slightly all right!"

"You're lucky to be alive!" Stated the helmeted figure currently holding him up right, "Scolex and his gang usually don't leave survivors, do you remember what happened?"

Florian nodded and almost immediately regretted the decision to do so, Head spinning and stomach roiling. "I was riding along minding my own business when these five burlie ruffians came from out of nowhere, they spooked my poor Isis quite thoroughly and I suppose I was thrown from the saddle... The next thing I remember I was waking up   Here.

"That makes sense." without difficulty the man lifted Florian to his feet, only to curse and snatch him up by the hips as he listed to one side with a paint gasp.

"Sorry about that!" The man grunted, holding Florian steady with one hand, while the other unclasped the scarlet cloak from his shoulders. "If I had to guess your foot probably got caught in the stirrup when you fell, i'll check to see if it's broken in a moment."

"You're a night of Aquila!" Florian realized with a start, recognizing the cloak for what it was as the chuckling figure wrapped it several times around his waist, creating a makeshift skirt of sorts.

" i'm just going to blame your blatant lack of observational skills on the raging concussion!" Without warning the night scooped Florian up in a bridal Carey and gently deposited him sidesaddle atop the horse.

"Oy! Do I look like a freshly deflowered maiden to you or something?"

"The night simply shook his head, afterwords gently grasping Florians painfully swollen foot. " do you really want me to answer that question?"