Astolfo and Illya run into Lancer

Having finally exhausted poor Shinji, Astolfo and Illya are finally out in the city proper. The cold night breeze kisses both their cheeks. "Aren't you cold, Rider?" Illya asks, a puff of her breath escaping her lips. "Fret not about I, Astolfo, my fair maiden!" Astolfo replies. Illya shakes her head. "I told you to stop saying your true name out loud like that." Illya says.

Astolfo shrugs, "Then what is the purpose of a name, if not for all to hear! Let my opponent know that it is I, Astolfo, who bests them in combat!" Astolfo shouts, drawing the ire of a sinister voice, poised to kill.

"Your master is right, little lady. It's too bad I have to kill you. I absolutely hate harming such beauty." The voice walks into the scene, revealing it's owner. The owner is none other than an Irishman, dressed in blue armor and wielding a red lance. "Ah! Lancer! Have you come to challenge I, the great Astolfo in combat?"

A grin from Lancer. "Yes." He says. "Then tell me, what is the name of this Lancer who challenges I, Astolfo!" Lancer grunts. "You're lucky my code of honor says that I must return my name to those whom give it first. I am Ireland's Child of Light, Cu Cuhainn. Now prepare yourself!"