((Two long panels take up this entire page.))
Caption 1): “Legend as it.” Have you ever started a story so? “Legend has it that…”
Caption 2): These are not truths. These are myths. Like they say, “legends”.
Tight shot on Gawain’s face, blood dribbling from his nose, stubble surrounding his jawline, he’s sweating, tired, but he’s determined, angry, and ready to fight.
Gawain 1): Come on then you bastard!
Gawain 2): Come on!
Caption 1): I start this story differently:
Caption 2): “Truth, as I have learnt it to be, has it that…”
Caption 3): …This is not a myth. This is not a legend. This is the truth of a world that you are not made to comprehend.
Bors, bigger, larger set, sword in hand, grins, his hair cut close to his skull, and a scar running three inches from his forehead up, an old battle wound, healed badly. He’s not unattractive, rugged more like, and he has a beard that starts as a moustache above his lip, down to his chin, and then up as sideburns to his ears. He doesn’t stop smiling throughout this entire sequence. He’s also young, though you couldn’t tell from the way he acts, and the way he looks.
Bors 1): You fight with your head, that’s good, boy.
Bors 2): Your sword arm is strong, little runt of a thing like you, wouldn’t think you could lift it higher than your knee!
Bors 3): But you still fight like a little girly girl.
Gawain lunges low for Bors, hoping to rise up beneath Bors’ centre of gravity, and gain the advantage from being smaller set.
Bors brings up his knee, slamming it into Gawain’s chest.
Gawain 1): uuuhtt
Bors then throws Gawain behind him, rolling with the momentum of Gawain himself.
Gawain hits the cold stone floor hard, dust rising up as he collides.
Gawain 1): hhfff
He looks up, and sees a sword levelled at his jugular.
Gawain 1): uhh.
Over Gawain’s shoulder, we see Bors lower his weapon, and put out his left hand for Gawain to pull himself up with. Bors still grins.
Gawain smiles, and pulls himself up.
Gawain 1): Thought you asked me if I wanted to do some light sparring.
Bors pouts, and points to himself apologetically.
Bors 1): Kid, there’s no such thing as ‘light sparring’.
Bors 2): You have war, and you have sparring.
Bors 3): You ain’t dead, so I guess we sparred.
Gawain sheathes his sword, in pain. Bors does the same.
Gawain 1): You’re fucking insane.
Bors 1): HA!
Bors 2): BullSHIT! I’m honest!
Bors points to the scar running down his forehead.
Bors 1): Kid, you don’t want to ugly up your face ‘cause you ran into something unprepared.
Bors 2): I’m teaching you how to survive, not how to fight.
Bors’ face suddenly turns serious.
Bors 1): But I wasn’t kidding.
Bors 2):You need to grow up.
Bors 3): In war, any shite goes. Your mother is a whore. Your dad is a queer. And your sisters?
Gawain’s lip twists up, uncomfortable with where this going.
Gawain 1): I don’t have any sisters.
Bors slams his finger into Gawain’s chest.
Bors 1): Your sisters were in your enemy’s bedroom last night being fucked twelve ways to
Bors 1): Doesn’t matter if it’s true or not.
Bors 2): Horrendous shite is thrown around and you need to take it in your stride.
Bors 3): Rules of fucking engagement, isn’t it?
Bors nudges Gawain in the ribs, and his grin returns.
Bors 1): Now, let’s go get something to eat, I’m starving, and the banquet will be starting soon downstairs.
Bors 2): Go wash up, and meet me downstairs.
Bors lowers himself somewhat, and punches Gawain in the arm.
Bors 1): And don’t worry!
Bors 2): I won’t tell anyone how easy it was to get under your skin!
Bors 3): HAHAHA
Gawain places his hands in his pockets, and leaves Bors as he continues to laugh, his laughter echoing out in the background, behind Gawain himself.
Bors 1): HAHAHAhaha
Gawain1): Under my skin.
Gawain 2): Right.
Gawain continues to walk forward, into shadow, an uncomfortable look upon his face.
Gawain 1): …Like that would happen…