"Where are your roots? Are there any famous adventurers in your family, or are you the first of your line?"

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Kalim had worked too hard to be considered a nobody. At least... not anymore.

Born into nothing the bay knew hard work from the moment his spindly legs hit freshly strewn hay; even as a colt he was expected to tag along for a hard day of labor. A difficulty- small pinprick hooves on toothpicks hardly held up against the plows and the carts. Wiry neck and thin shoulders doing all they could to balance an oversized yoke.

It took him years to fill the steel shoes of his progenitors.

Countless chores and tasks to build up hard muscle, a sturdy barrel, and saucer-sized hooves that could dig into anything. That hard labor paid off and impressive he had become; large with the muscle to hold up even the heaviest tower shield or bear the mightier bayonets without struggle. But with his muscle had come some pride- a young fool he was, challenging any who dared test the mass of muscle.

And he might have remained nothing more than a hard-working, but proud fool... had he not caught the attention of someone with so much more finesse in their movements. They were practiced in stance and understanding of a fight- spar or not.

As a young adult, the bay courser made the mistake of unknowingly testing his mettle against the General Prince; a herald who though athletic was tall- more lean.

Surely raw muscle could outdo trained finesse.

...

Kalim was smitten the second he recovered from his ass hitting the dirt.

And from that day on he had worked to prove valuable, irreplaceable. Even when Reiner had grown from Prince to King- Kalim had been there for all of it. And when your first love, the one who took you as their consort; called you their Lord as the equal to the crown on their brow...

Who was Kalim to say no to any request?

Doing right by his partner, his King, and their Kingdom is what led Kalim from the plow to the shield. And now that diligent servitude, and love, left him standing on the brink of the Moor; deep within the dungeon in search of lost knowledge and vast wealth- scouting ahead until the day Reiner inevitably joined him in delving further. One day they would both find the core of this abandoned world.

One day.

"We're in a bad way here, Kalim... Didn't prepare for the Moor- we should turn back," Fetch snorted as the ether courser's blue eyes looked out over the Moor of Sleep. They had not intended to delve this far down as quickly as they did, but something pulled them here. A sinister force pulled them from quieter hallways into the realm of Sleep.

And that's exactly why Fetch wanted to turn back.

This was purposeful.

Kalim however didn't seem so quick to turn back empty-handed. No; he didn't fear the Moor- not yet.

But the bay was cautious.

"I'm not going back with nothing to show for it Fetch... You led me this far," He snorted, warm eyes settling on the ether. "Let's go in just a little- I want to get at least a better grasp of what this place is like." With this the knight began to walk forward; carefully, ears raised and nostrils flared. All his senses were alert in case danger found a swift path to them. "It will make preparing for our next venture here easier." He tacked on, hoping Fetch would see reason with his request.

Still, the ether did not budge and that caused Kalim to pause.

Fetch was born in these depths- if even she didn't wish to move...

The dapple gave a low nicker, before pinning ears back in a shrill whinny. She would go no further; she had not been hired to delve this far down.

With a curse some part of Kalim finally relented this idea, turning back towards the path they had come from. A wise choice...

Something wretched watched from across the Moor; two sets of eyes steadied on the courser duo of knight and guide. Thick shadow sloughing off its form and spreading like an infernal lake around a cursed tower.

Whatever it was knew patience.

It knew they would return.