He doesn’t recall any of the events that brought him here- at least, not the important ones. All he could bring up to mind was how strange he felt during his daily strolls. A sinking feeling that creeps it’s way in slowly and settles in your stomach. He then recalls the dreadful feeling of large talons gripping him tightly and a sight of large black feathers wrapping around him, blinding him briefly. He could only ever catch sight of his beloved castle, Pridemoor Keep, for a few moments before things all changed. Next thing he knew, he was here… wherever here was, really. Dumped carelessly in front of some strange, yet welcoming campfire.
Whomever had brought him to this new land certainly wasn’t caring enough for his armor nor his well being. The first thing the false King had done upon coming to was cleaning himself bit by bit with his trusted handkerchief. A task which held high importance to him over all else. After all, who’d want to greet a noble King covered head to toe in dirt?
Doing as best a job he could to have his golden armor sparkling clean, fluffing out his capes fur, he settled on taking a glance around, soaking in the atmosphere with questions popping left and right in his head. The colors of this place certainly contrasted from the ones in the valley. Dark and grungy, hues of grey which brought a sense of unease which quickly got brushed off in favor of growing excitement. Oh what treasures could be found if he simply walked around…! Perhaps a weakened King with a large land he could concur as well. So many opportunities that could take place in such little time. If only the golden goon knew of what was to come.
After he’s had his fill of gawking about the broken shambles of what he could only assume used to be some form of a building, he’s startled by the sight of a man just sitting there nearby. Had he been watching him? Rude. He approaches with his typical stride. The man speaks of so many things. Talk of the undead, hollows, something about bells…? King Knight barely paid attention. After all, his being here was an error– a huge mistake rather. He wasn’t meant to be here, and it was obvious that he’d stuck out worse than a sore thumb.
When the man finishes speaking– or rather- when King Knight had decided he was done speaking, (hint hint: he wasn’t), he strides off in a random direction, taking his time to explore every inch of the place, scoffing at every dirtied object and complaining over anything he could find to complain about.
Off he goes on an adventure that wasn’t even his, but someone else’s. Yet again taking something that wasn’t his own… Amazing.