Ossinett

She remembered the strangeness of their wedding day, a dozen customs that each felt more alien than the last. With no house colours of her own, the ladies in waiting had woven a wedding wreath of desert flowers entwined with the purple roses and yellow daylillies whilst Freystorm's cooks had baked thick crusted pie. When Ser Thomelin cut the pastry with his longsword, three shy of two dozen live songbirds burst from opening and filled Freystorm's great hall with colour and so

Bill watched as the Holden knight drove his horse forward, lowering the cinquefoil-tipped lance with expert precision. The purple fabric danced in the air as the knight rode, painting a trail of a twilight sky behind him as the steed thundered towards his opponent. When the lance struck its mark, Bill forgot entirely his training as a respectable lord of the realm - he burst from his seat with a cheer and a fist raised so high that his knuckles grazed the fabric of the Darlyn

Ever since Ser Holden Barryl first bent the knee to King Romidor the Great during the conquest of what would become Crosser's County, the ideals of knightly honour and chivalry have captured the hearts and minds of the Cornayan people. The allure of shining armour and gowned horses, the promise of heroism and duty, all draw the interest of nobility and commonfolk alike - but in reality, knighthood is a much more complex, gritty affair Knights, Blackguards, Squires and Errants