You wake up in a small hut. You have no memory of how you got here, who you are, or why you are in iron armor, but something compels you to pick up the sword on the broken-down table next to the door. It has a ruby engrained on the hilt, the blade gleaming from the light of sunrise. You walk outside, and see helmets laying on the ground, corroded and old. You see a large castle in the distance, your vision blurred from the green fog. You feel a sense of urgency. You must get to the castle.