The deepest Desire of this Knight's heart is the Keep of Blackburn
to sit upon its Throne of Dominion in Aasterinian's Hall, to survey my people, safe and Prosperous, to seat them at my Feast Table.
Now my People are dead, that Throne is useless and I will rescue their Souls from perdition as the ultimate Expression of my protective Vow.
To Commemorate my vow I will inscribe a Tattoo a huge sigil upon the flesh of my Back, that of the Red Rook so that all will feel Backlash of a Knight's fury.
Were I to come upon the wardrobe of my heroic ancestors, I will put upon my tired feet, Boots of Boarding so that I may leap upon my steed or ship at once.
I would don Gaunlets of Ogre Strength so that I may triumph in all arm wrestling contests, or perhaps Dwarven Throwers so that I am never short-hafted.
I would gird my arms with Iron Armbands of Power or those of Flame so that the West Hammer is ever feared. Ever do the stories of the Red Knight's glories change.
I would pick from the armory to enclose my senses a Helm that is Horned like the charging Bull of legend. Or else one girded by the runes of dwarves of the most Stubborn Mind.
I would sheath the West Hammer in its Sacred Sheath.
I would plunder the vaults for Power Jewels, Ioun Stones, Cinnabars and the Ivory Goat of Travail, and Hold them all in a magical Bag.
Were I to discover the riches of ancient kings I would don the famed Layered Plate of Dwarven Vigor in homage of that once worn by my indefatigable ancestors.
Were I to rub a genie's lamp I would ask of that a efreet a magic Bridle of Conjuration so that I may never again be without the company of my best friend, Withers, Warhorse of my Heart.