Aldric

The monks fled. The knights held the gates. And Ser Halvard was trapped inside, beneath the burning roof.

Everyone ran from the fire. I ran into it. I dragged him out through the smoke... and by dawn, the cathedral was gone.

Eleven years later, on the ash fields where the cathedral once stood, King Oderic knighted me himself.

I swore to guard the crown, and every soul beneath it. I swore it on the ashes of everything I had lost.

For twenty years I kept that oath. I led the Ashen Knights through every border war. Our banner became a promise: where we stand... the kingdom stands.

But kings grow old... and old kings grow afraid. In secret, Oderic made a pact with the very warchief who burned my cathedral.

His crown would be spared. The price was our people. Whole villages handed to Grul... and my knights ordered to stand aside and watch.

I refused. I walked into the throne room... and took the crown from his head with my own hands.

That night the crown cracked. I did not.

I gathered everyone who would follow. Knights, farmers, families... and brought them north, to the Silver Bastion. The last wall.

Now Grul's horde climbs toward that wall. Ten thousand torches... and every night, more.

We are few. Our armour is old. But a knight is a wall... and walls do not run.

Let them come. The Ashen Crown still stands.