Squire — 11 : Butt-kicking

Barnaby grinned, already eyeing the next set of doors. "Just 'Squire' is fine, sir. But keep the boots polished. We’ve got a giant to see about a beanstalk tomorrow, and I’ve got a feeling his shins are wide open."

The Hall fell silent. The knights exchanged looks of bewilderment. 11 : Butt-Kicking Squire

Roderick sighed, finally dropping the mutton. "I suppose I should update the scrolls. 'The Squire of the Swift Foot' has a certain ring to it." Barnaby grinned, already eyeing the next set of doors

Barnaby shrugged, adjusting a leather greave that had seen better days. "Didn't need it, sir. Turns out, if you kick a dragon hard enough in the soft spot right behind the left haunch, it loses all interest in pillaging and develops a very sudden interest in finding an ice pack." We’ve got a giant to see about a

"You... you kicked it?" Roderick asked, his fork hovering mid-air.

"Thrice, sir. Once for the stolen sheep, once for the burnt haystack, and a third time because he had a very punchable—well, kickable—expression." Barnaby leaned against a pillar, looking remarkably un-singed. "He’s currently relocating to the Southern Isles. He said the 'vibe' here was becoming too hostile toward giant lizards."