The Golden Age of Knighthood had long fallen on sad days.

Dragons and their grimmaye arts were long accepted as extinct, and the novelty of hoards of human knights as protectors had lost its once bright shine.

The very nation you were set to inherit was held up by nothing but sticks and stones. The population matters one decree away from civil war.

That is, until a mysterious giant of a man was found unconscious. At the edge of the largest forest in the Empire, the man lay without horse or other companion. All he had on him was his pack… and a peculiar, egg-shaped jewel.

You watch as the healers rush around him, peeling away sodden pieces of clothing off his sculpted body. Countless scars and bruises marred his form. Impeccable as it was, it was obviously well tested.

To spare a single second not weary of him was a death sentence.

Soon you find yourself thrown back against the wall, his very naked body against yours, as he holds you at knife-point. Healers frightened yet powerless, your life lay at his hands.