11 : Butt-kicking Squire May 2026

"Sir Roderick!" Barnaby shouted, his voice echoing off the tapestries. "The Dragon of Oakhaven has been dealt with."

"Thrice, sir. Once for the stolen sheep, once for the burnt haystack, and a third time because he had a very punchable—well, kickable—expression." Barnaby leaned against a pillar, looking remarkably un-singed. "He’s currently relocating to the Southern Isles. He said the 'vibe' here was becoming too hostile toward giant lizards." 11 : Butt-Kicking Squire

Barnaby wasn’t your average squire. While his peers spent their afternoons polishing shields and learning the delicate art of "not dying in a ditch," Barnaby was busy redefining the chivalric code. His philosophy was simple: why poke someone with a pointed stick when a well-placed boot to the backside achieves the same moral victory with significantly more flair? "Sir Roderick

Roderick sighed, finally dropping the mutton. "I suppose I should update the scrolls. 'The Squire of the Swift Foot' has a certain ring to it." "He’s currently relocating to the Southern Isles