β Your name lady, I still need to hear it.
β Sir hunter, you persist.
β Or perhaps angels have no names, only beautiful faces.
β And you are?
β Well, I am, um.
β You've forgotten, or your name is Sir Um?
β Ulrich von Lichtenstein from Gelderland.
β Well, I'd forget as well, what a mouthful. Your armor, sir.
β What about it?
β How stylish of you to joust in an antique. You'll start a new fashion if you win. My grandfather will be able to wear his in public again, and a shield, how quaint. Some of these poor country knights, little better then peasants.