Prologue
Beads of sweat formed on a young boy's head as the sun beat down on the city of Linden. Crowds of people hurried through the streets before him, a few stealing distracted glances before they continued on their ways. This boy's place was in the stocks. He knew he would end up there one day. They seemed to beckon him as he plucked a coin from a man's pocket, or swiped the bread of a merchant's table. His role as a street rat had saved him an uncomfortable spot in front of the Castle of Reninguard. One man in particular stood out like a sore thumb the jostling crowd. He was wearing the finest clothes. The crest of a hawk holding three swords that he wore was familiar. It was Sir Eldemere. What a vulgar knight he was. He celebrated his victories at the local bars. He showed no mercy, not even the slightest sign of compassion. All he wanted was victory, power and money. He didn't care how he got it. To the boy's surprise, he was coming towards him. Several thoughts clouded his mind. What does he want? Is he looking at me? His questions were soon answered.
"Him." Eldemere said, pointing to the child. A few coins were exchanged and the guard opened the stocks. Rubbing his sore wrists, the boy was led away. He belonged to Sir Eldemere.