“Well stated, indeed,” Quartermain replied with a small nod. “A Knight must go where they are bid, subject to their oaths and the demands placed upon them. The… incidents of my birth led me away from such a role in younger years.”

The faintest of smirks crosses his face; clearly, towards himself in an almost rueful gesture. “How strange the things we conflate when we are young. If you had asked me those years ago if I could have been a knight, I would have told you about Henry’s court. Now… a world and an age apart, the incidents of birth matter little to the Requiem, and yet our habits hold us true regardless.”

He smiled softly, looking around the small cluster of conversation, and in particular taking note of how he carries himself. “I am a… free agent, of sorts. It is a recent term, I will admit, but a wonderfully apt one.”