"All the guests were thoroughly checked before they entered the manse, my Prince. There was no sword on him...yet, he pulled the blade from his belt! But how..."
"It's a bit rusted... but I think with time, you'll find that this ol' thing is a worthy travelling companion. And for you, miss... just 90 sovereigns."
"Contingent of Imperial Knights spotted at Osthill, my prince. Lord Marshall Oswald's tank contingent is dug in there, and the fortifications are solid. All you need to do is give me the order, and I'll tell his lordship to make it rain."
-Miles Secundi, Man-at-Arms of Prince Kastame
"Sure, it’s chilly to wear in the winter, boiling in the summer, and yeah, it chafes a little after a day or two of marching. But when you do what we do, you learn to eat, sleep and s**t in it - pardon my language your highness.”
-Miles Secundi, Man at Arms of Prince Kastame
"Such a curious candle... it burns...with no wick?"
"Commander... every chime in a five mile radius is making a racket. Something big is coming... something mean."
"There are few things that iconize the Knights of Greatland better than a suit of massive metal plates, and an equally gargantuan weapon."
-Jax the Chronicler
"The Sigurdian style Bowgun is the most popular recent take on the common Arbalest. While it has been commonplace in the Sigurdian kingdoms and in Caern for over half a century, it has only recently found use on the continent - but it looks like it's here to stay."
-Daaren Hurst, Imperial Master at Arms
In the far reaches of a long-lost wilderness, there stands a forgotten town inhabited only by children. Though they appear normal enough, their eyes burn with madness, and they speak in a foreign, archaic tongue. Nearly a millenia ago, a powerful spell had gone awry, or maybe it had succeeded - in any case, it ended up blessing, or cursing, an entire generation of children with agelessness. However, as the centuries passed, the children's parents grew old and died, the buildings of the town crumbled to earth, and even the civilization itself faded into history, becoming lost to time. All that remained were the children, driven mad by the psychological toll of living for hundreds of years beyond their age. In time, most children died, killed off by fighting amongst themselves, while many others were driven to suicide. Only a small handful remain, and they are a strange people indeed.