"Well, we were attacked by goblins out on the plains. I managed to drive them off, but one of them slashed at Aria," said Plantagonox. The old man didn't look convinced.
"What happened before then? Surely there is more to your story than that," replied the old man. Plantagonox rubbed his chest, where he had been branded with the mark of the dragon. It was a key part of the ritual.
He unbuttoned his shirt, and said, "It gets very complicated before then. I am a Draconic Knight. My story is true, to a point. We are not married, but I did save her life. The goblins weren't driven off; they were destroyed."
"Oh, the Knights Draconic, I have heard of them. Very noble, you are. I guess that almost explains everything then. But you are aware that dragons are not well liked around here, aren't you? I won't tell the townspeople, but you should leave as soon as she recovers," said the old man.
Plantagonox replied, "I intend to leave tomorrow."