The city of Bordèu stirs, all its citizens are out in force, they march towards the cathedral of St Andrew, heeding the summons of a king.

A fortnight ago the King of Valland called a parliament in Bordèu. He stirs trouble, Bordèu and surrounding lands—indeed, the whole province of Guyenne—belongs in fief to his distant cousin, the King of Angla.

Oh but we are getting ahead of ourselves. You are not here for the politicking of the high nobility, you are here for your own reasons. Remind me where you come from. Remind me of your oath.

>Angla
>Almain
>Montera

—
>As a young squire, you and your master were prisoners awaiting ransom. Your cruel captor left your master's wounds untreated, causing his death. Being of little value, your captor mockingly knighted you in his dungeon, he mistreated you and always made you thank him for his "generosity”. As his final act, he threw you out with only your clothes and a chipped sword. His men laughed from the walls: "Go on then, Ser Knight." They likely think you dead by now, but you remember your oath.

>Born an orphan, your miserable life changed when you met Fostin the Grey, a traveling Dwergz. Eccentric compared to all his kind, he and his company took you in. They taught you everything, made you someone, all without asking anything in return. Fostin was old by the reckoning of his people and time catches up with everyone, even those of the elder races. On his deathbed, you swore to return his clan's hammer to his children in the Pyren Mountains. You remember your oath.

>You were always equal parts poet and knight. A Troubadour as one would say in Guyenne. And in your homeland there was a particular lady who you were high in standing with, an heiress with too much wealth and too much love of song and romance. You got carried away, promises were uttered and deeds were done. A landless knight is no proper match for a heiress, she was imprisoned in a convent by her family. You on the other hand were hunted. But you shall return, you remember your oath.