He wasn’t even that tall, as long as you weren’t standing right next to him. He acted tall, and had the aura of a lofty kind of guy, but he didn’t have the height to back it up. Now, he had good, thick hair and that much I will concede. It was long too, flowed all the way down over his fancy armour and looked tangled like an unattended garden. I wish I had hair like that, but hey, who doesn’t?

I’m getting off task here, the armour, yes that’s what I was on about. The armour was always polished beyond belief so that you could make out all the nice detailing on the metal. I heard someone say it was decorated with stories of his triumphs or some bloody nonsense. I say shit on that, because the whole breast plate was riddled with these pictures of monsters getting their heads chopped off and swooning maidens. And somehow the fool still manages to move around all elegant-like in all his gear, glides like a bloody swan whenever he makes an appearance in the city.

The worst of all of it? He notices me. He always says ‘Hi, how are you faring today?’ or some nonsense like that. We end up going back and forth for what feels like an eternity, and honestly it’s the longest part of my day. Suffice to say, he’s not the best. Not the best at all.