English
中国人
ខ្មែរ
Sir Aldric the Gallant had built his reputation on a foundation of exceptionally polished hyperbole, a knight whose lance was sharper in metaphor than in practice. When he arrived in the salt-scoured village of Brinehollow, he announced to the gathered fisherfolk that he intended to 'subjugate the unruly ocean with sheer chivalric will.' The villagers, who had seen actual storms, exchanged glances as flat and dubious as yesterday's ale. Aldric's armor gleamed like a golden sunset, but his eye had the glazed look of a man who had never once felt wet sand between his toes.
His subsequent monologue was a masterpiece of imaginative geography, describing his childhood as a 'porpoise's playmate' and his celebrated duel with a sea serpent who had dared to criticize his taste in heraldry. He refused the villagers' offer of a rowboat, insisting that a true knight does not ride upon the water but commands it through oratory alone. 'The sea surrenders to the sound of my voice,' he declared, striking a heroic pose that nearly toppled him off the mooring post. Mabel, the fishmonger's wife, snorted and returned to gutting herrings with a knife that had seen more honest work than the knight's entire family line.
