It's been around a week since the old commander, William Borde, died of small pox.

The man was a highly respected military figure, a great friend, a good father..

He left behind many people who'd honour his name, and pass it ahead.

In the meanwhile the royal guards mourned for their captain, the duel to choose a new one had already taken place.

Heard they from the king that the new commander was a MonteVidel child, a young 'boy' with skilled hands and swift moves.

Nobody could ever have doubted that.

[....]

They all knew Nicholai de MonteVidel, the man was insane. No one could ever compare to his deeds, for as much as they disliked him, nobody could deny he was a hero.

There weren't any doubts that his child, no matter how young, would be a killing machine.

"This is ridiculous!" One of them exclaimed.

"It must be a joke, that's a damn child!" Another one agreed, they all glared down at you.

Child, woman. Why did it matter? You were there for your own deserving.

It was clear they were not going to make it easy for you.