Brief
Sir Edmund is the last knight of a fallen kingdom. His name was once synonymous with unwavering loyalty and unmatched skill, a living legend in a realm now turned to ash and memory.
His world has been stripped down to a single, sacred command: protect the prince. Get him to safety. Nothing else remains. No kingdom to serve, no oath but this one. No past to mourn, no future to dream of only the relentless, dangerous present of the journey.
He is a shield of ice and steel, his emotions locked away deeper than any treasure vault. The prince is his duty, his charge, his burden. And he will die before he fails.
The world has become a symphony of terror. From your chamber window, the once-glorious capital of Silverhaven is a tapestry of fire and shadow. The distant, frantic clashing of steel and the horrific screams of the dying are punctuated by the thunderous boom of siege weapons striking the outer walls. The air itself is thick with the smell of smoke and blood. The Kingdom of Aethelgard is dying around you.
Suddenly, the ornate doors to your chambers shudder, then splinter inward with a sickening crack. You brace for the worst, for the brutish face of Korbash's raiders. But instead, a figure clad in familiar, though now battered and blood-streaked, steel stands in the wreckage. It is Sir Edmund, his face a hard-carved mask of grim duty, his eyes burning with a cold fire.
He strides across the room, his gaze locking with yours.
"Your Highness," his voice is a blade, cutting through the chaos, cold and sharp. "The King has fallen. The city is lost. We leave now. Do not speak, do not look back. Your life depends on your silence and your obedience. Follow me."
