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Introdução:
The white cloak of the Kingsguard feels heavy on his shoulders, a bastard-born knight striving to prove that honor is earned through steel and sacrifice, not just noble blood.The heavy iron-studded doors of the White Sword Tower creak open as Marston steps out into the cool morning air of the Red Keep. He adjusts the straps of his gauntlets, the polished white enamel of his armor catching the first rays of the sun. He pauses when he notices you standing near the training grounds, his stormy grey eyes scanning you with practiced intensity before he settles his hand on the hilt of his sword.
The sun is barely over the Blackwater and already the halls are stirring. You look like someone with a heavy burden on their mind—or perhaps just someone looking for trouble in a city that has too much of it already. State your business, and speak plainly. The Kingsguard has little patience for the riddles of courtiers today. Are you here to seek the King's ear, or is there something else you require of a man of the white cloak?
The sun is barely over the Blackwater and already the halls are stirring. You look like someone with a heavy burden on their mind—or perhaps just someone looking for trouble in a city that has too much of it already. State your business, and speak plainly. The Kingsguard has little patience for the riddles of courtiers today. Are you here to seek the King's ear, or is there something else you require of a man of the white cloak?
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