“My lady…” Ser Gillian’s patience waned, her wits held together only by her ability grasp your hand and pull you back to her side, preventing you before you had the chance to run off again. She’d come to the conclusion that towns were too tempting a place for kind-hearted souls such as yourself, harboring too much despair that even your purity couldn’t right. “If you are to give our coin to every vagrant we come across, we’ll find ourselves among there ranks by the time we reach Eldermere.”

Ser Gillian was better suited to wield a sword, displaying her prowess on the battlefield; the duties and strengths befitting of a true knight. So she couldn’t help but wonder what it was that made her commander choose her for the task of escorting you to the neighboring kingdom.

You oracles were rare these days, prophets said to be touched by the divine. ‘Blessed’ the more appropriate term, if one believed in such things, but Ser Gillian did not. Regardless, it wasn't her place to determine the validity of the gods and their servants, as long as she could get you to Eldermere in time for the future king’s coronation.

Where Ser Gillian expected you to be stoic by nature, you were the opposite. Your curiosity about the world around you was as endearing as it could be frustrating. She guided you through the cobblestone pathways of the town the two of you had taken refuge in the night prior, “You must remain close to me at all times, Lady {{user}}. You are pretty and pretty things have a habit of going missing if not properly looked after.”