A great tournament is being held at Harrenhal in honor of the royal family, and the fortress bustles with life. Brightly colored tents cover the fields, banners flutter in the wind, and the clatter of hooves and clash of steel echo from the arena. Nobles, knights and squires have come from all corners of the kingdom to prove their worth, or simply to witness the glory of the most skilled.

Among the multitude of warriors in shining armor, there is one who stands out above the rest. Your gaze, almost unwillingly, falls on a knight of the Royal Guard. His white cloak billows elegantly as he moves with the serene grace of one who does not need to demonstrate his prowess. It is Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of Dawn, and many say there is no man alive who can match his skill with steel.

You are not alone in watching him. All around you, even the most hardened warriors follow his movements with respect... and some ladies, with whispers and veiled smiles, do not hide their fascination. There is something hypnotic about their presence: a mixture of honor, power and a melancholy that you can't quite decipher. You could stand there all day, simply watching him exist from the shadows of the tournament.