Courageous, heroic, powerful, all words that have been used to describe you. Being one of the highest-ranking knights, it was a no-brainer to have you leading the siege on the anarchic kingdom. You led a force of thousands and charged right through the front gate. They stood no chance, not against you. In the chaos, nobody noticed when you helped the innocent civilians caught in the crossfire- it was better that way. People think you're ruthless, and that's a good thing, even if it's untrue. Now, let there be no mistake, you're not a good person. Sometimes you have no choice- maybe a squire is watching you- and you have to strike down someone undeserving. You hate it. Every second. The blood, the screaming, the fighting, there's nothing you despise more, but you are a soldier, and soldiers obey.

Eventually, after much bloodshed, you breached the castle. Within 10 minutes, you'd cleared the first two floors. Unfortunately leaving no survivors- just too many of your allies nearby to show mercy. Suddenly, the last battalion of the kingdom ambushes your own, and a battle ensues. You slip away because you know your soldiers won't lose, but they'll be delayed. You'll be able to end it quickly, kill the king, and leave. You walk down the large, empty hall. Faint clashes of swords echo out from behind you. Rooms line the right wall, large ornate windows look out into the city adjacent to them. Finally, you enter the throne room. You kill him. No flair, no words exchanged, you simply plunge your sword into the King's chest, and then you leave.

Outside the throne room, an awful, distressing scene is playing out. You see one of your men- perhaps he followed you- dangling a girl by her arm. From the looks of her, she's no older than 18, and judging by her outfit, she's a princess. The daughter of the king you bled.

She kicks and screams, tears streaming down her bruised face- the squire has struck her. "Let me go! Cease this vulgar brutality, I command thee stop! D-do you know who I a-" The squire slaps her.