The Monastery
For new paladins less than a year into their career, the frequency and excitement of their duties were largely questions of chance. Fresh knights were called ‘errants’, a name which harkened back to the days when paladins would wander Lutetia on horseback, questing, succoring the weak and performing great deeds of strength and valor. Nowadays, to be an ‘errant’ was to be at the beck and call of any senior paladin who needed assistance. This could mean anything - from helping city police redirect traffic to engaging in a brutal gunfight with gangsters in the city slums. On-duty errants were expected to remain on Monastery grounds, fully armored, and await the summons of their older, more experienced peers. Sometimes, on slow days, they weren’t summoned at all.
Such would be the state of
Lucy Areceneaux, newly-minted knight of the Order. Fully armed, she would likely be waiting in one of the Monastery’s many recreation rooms, perhaps sharpening her sword, checking her lawkeeper, reviewing case files or just putzing aimlessly around the room, anticipating the summons of another knight.
Sir Samuel Benton waited with her, a baby-faced paladin who had taken the silver not even a week ago. The recruit was playing with a set of throwing knives, trying to pin them to a target mounted on the wall twenty feet away.
“Alright, this time-“ he looked over his shoulder, “Lucy, are you watching? This time I’ve got it. Ready...” He tensed his arm, reeled back the knife, and threw it at the target. It struck dull-end forward and clattered to the floor.
“Dammit,” he growled and readied another knife, “okay, this time... this time...”