"Come on, just a bit further, now. We're almost at the place I spoke of."

"We bloody well better be. I don't want to hold my guts in forever, you know!"

The knight in pale blue glanced toward his compatriot, his helm hiding a smirk. She wasn't that hurt, otherwise she wouldn't complain so much. She did have a point though, walking was not the best way to go. They needed transport, and quickly, if they wanted to get to Pridemoor by the end of the day, and without keeling over.

The mountain loomed before them, and anchored to it, an airship of massive proportions. The sun loomed high above their heads, having set out early that morning. As much as they wanted to take their armor off, even for a moment, the lands still teemed with beasts and shadowy creatures. The very notion was folly.

He still wanted to do it anyway.

But it wouldn't be long now, because he could see something headed toward them. Perhaps a scout vessel of some sort. If they didn't shoot at them within the next five minutes, that meant their captain was in a good mood. Then again, one never really caught him in a bad mood; he was the most lighthearted of the Order of no Quarter.

"Oh, Hells..."

Shield Knight didn't seem so certain as she made a feeble attempt at raising her buckler. "Don't tell me you've led us right into the jaws of an enemy fleet for help!"

"Relax," Shovel Knight replied with a smile. "This one in particular is no true enemy. In fact, I'd wager they never were."

In fact, by his count, two minutes passed while they spoke. If they hadn't fired on them by then, they wouldn't. The ship closed, and the smile turned to a full grin as a rope ladder fell from the heavens. "Ahoy there! Might I have a word with your captain?"

"Oui! He 'as been expecting you as well! Climb aboard!"

"That might be a problem," he replied. "I have wounded down here, and she won't make it all the way up there on her own. Might need some assistance!"

The knight got no response for a full minute. What he got instead were two men with those odd propeller suits, coming to meet them. They landed, rushed over, and took Shield Knight, one arm across the shoulders of each man. "Pardonnez-moi, mademoiselle," one of them muttered, trying not to upset her injured side. The second glanced toward him. "Are you ready now?"

The blue knight gave a nod before setting foot onto the ladder. He gave his partner one last look before the propeller suits whirred to life. "I'll see you on board."

She gave him a weak smile as they carried her up.

"Ah, mon ami! It has been too long."

Atop the main deck of the airship, just before a vast window overlooking the ocean, the knight stood without his weapon for once, having left it in his cabin. The man before him stood resplendent in a green flight suit, trimmed with gold. Yet things had changed; this time he had no helmet, nor did he have his dueling rapier. Dark brown hair and hazel eyes lay underneath the helm it seemed, along with the brightest smile anyone had ever seen on a clean-shaven jaw.

He stood with his arms wide in a gesture of welcome. "Welcome back to my home in the sky, monsieur..." He tilted his head to the right. "Ah, I do not believe we have exchanged names. This cannot stand!" The captain bowed. "Henri Durand, at your service."

"Well, Henri," the knight chuckled, "It's nice to know you have a name other than Propeller Knight." With the garb the captain had on, he felt a tad overdressed... and so he reached for his own helmet, lifting it from his head to reveal auburn hair and green eyes, a stark contrast to his cerulean armor. "As for me, my name is Sir Godwyn Halvor." He gave him a bow in return, though just enough to keep his eyes on the man. "Well met, Sir Durand."

The captain chuckled. "Please, mon ami, none of that. Henri will do. We are no longer at each other's sword ends, yes? That makes us friends!" He turned toward the window. "And friends share with each other. Share drinks, share scars..." He paused for a moment. "...share stories."

Godwyn folded his arms in front of him, his features a facade of indifference. "What story would you wish me to share with you?"

Henri chuckled. "The mademoiselle, of course! Lovely as she is, I did not expect to have an injured woman on my ship. One that looks very much like the Shield Knight of tales past. It would appear you have recovered her from the Tower of Fate." He glanced over his right shoulder. "May I inquire as to how?"

"You mean you don't know?"

Henri turned to face him, one of his brows arched high. "Know what, good chevalier?"

Godwyn opened his mouth to speak... then thought better of it. Of course they wouldn't know. None of the Order could have figured it out, and only one outside their ranks would have noticed. Had noticed, in fact. "It's nothing," he sighed. "Suffice it to say that when she fell, I caught her."

"I see..." Silence again, then Henri took in a breath. "Given the chance to do it again, would you?"

Godwyn's features turned from impassive to resolute. "As many times as needed. The Nine Hells could stand against me and I would claw at them with my bare hands to save her."

Henri grinned. "Well then, we are of similar minds!" He laughed. "Though I do wish I had a petite thing to call my own, I would fall on a thousand swords to save a mademoiselle in distress!" The grin turned to a smirk. "Though it appears yours is less prone to be in distress, no? Speaking of which, where is her shield?"

"Destroyed." Godwyn shrugged. "Or lost during the fall of the Tower. I know not which, and she will not say." Then again, he didn't remember much about anything, past the attack that knocked him unconscious. He made a note to ask her about it later. For the moment, they had a keep to report to. "Can you take us back to Pridemoor?"

Henri rubbed his chin. "I do not believe I am too welcome in your kingdom. Even with the white flags."

Godwyn frowned. "I could make it a point to have you granted amnesty. There may yet be a place for you."

"While I appreciate that, I will have to decline." The captain smiled again, eyes twinkling with mirth. "After all, I would rather live my life carefree in the air with those who would join me of their own free will! And as you no doubt have seen, I have plenty of those who would board my ship now."

Godwyn gave a resigned nod. "Well then, simply get us to the Troupple King, and we will be on our way shortly. Not to say ill of your doctor, but we need Ichor if she is to make a full recovery."

Henri nodded and picked up a speaker connected to the rest of the ship's airways. "All passengers and crew, secure for weighing of the anchor!"

Samuel Pridemoor sat on the throne of his keep, one hand holding his chin up as his ears were graced with the music from the village bard, whom he'd called in for the days of feasting. Since the Tower had fallen, he'd gotten his throne back and put to task the knight that the Enchantress placed into power.

He was grateful the people welcomed him back, and as such, declared the next three days a celebration. His court was open daily as villagers and nobles alike filled the halls, and tonight, the second evening of the party, was to be the ball. He smiled at the thought of seeing all the dancers in their finery, but the silence that filled the court removed him from his daydreaming. He blinked and glanced over at the bard. "Is it over already?"

The bard, clad in brown and yellow, gave a bow. "Oh, on the contrary! I have much to play for you... but someone else seems to want your attention."

King Pridemoor glanced toward the double doors, and found one of his messengers kneeling at the entrance, breathing as if he'd run from halfway across the plains. "Rise, and come forward. You seem to have much to tell me, so I'll offer you a moment to catch your breath."

The messenger gave him a grateful look as he stood and jogged his way toward the throne. Still short of breath, he leaned forward and whispered into Samuel's ear. The king's eyes widened as the message became clear, and nodded in places to display his understanding.

His belief at the words was still in doubt, but he heard them all the same.

"I must have this confirmed." He turned toward the messenger. "Send scouts to the marshlands with all speed, with my fastest horses. Tell them to be back before sundown, for good or ill."

The messenger bowed, then raced his way out of the throne room. Samuel turned toward the bard with a smile. "If what I heard was right... we may need to prepare two more places at my table tonight."

One: Triumphant

And here we go! The first official chapter of my Shovel Knight saga! And I already got one fave, so we're off to a damn good start. I tell you, if this really takes off, we could see the first bighuge story for this game!

Let's make it happen, people. GO GO GO!

Justice in spades.