In the Bourdonne county, the fields were burning.

Rioting had broken out amongst the labourers in the province, the culmination of many months of poor management and cruel suppression of the spread of the plague amongst the borders of the once pleasant pastures that supplemented the Bourdonne coffers. Their spirited mares choked on the smoke, colts and fillies that would have gone to showmen now butchered at the hands of their owners to feed themselves - and in retaliation, the knights responded by setting fire to the harvest to starve out the protesters and draw their attention away from sieging the lordship’s estate and castle. This was one province out of many, but the first to begin to cannibalise itself in the wake of the Blight. With the Bourdonne retinue holding strong and the nobleman’s stockpiles high, the Bourdonne family stood a decent chance at withstanding the initial assault.

Simultaneously, the sole heiress of the ruined province was eyeing the vastness of the palace gates alongside her steadfast companion. Unbeknownst to Lady Alexi Bourdonne, a litany of measures had been put into place to not only protect her fortune but also her wellbeing and her identity; she was swathed from head to foot in fabric, a heavy veil pinned to her wimple, a pinafore buttoned over her full length gown, and gloves that reached her elbows have been reported by eyewitnesses when travelling throughout the kingdom of Vasilius, though her letters (see appendix) imply that she shed some of these protective layers in less populated areas. Scholars largely agree that the initial meeting had shrouded the young maiden in complete anonymity. Their preferred weapon of choice to defend this was silence. Neither the heiress nor her hired muscle said a word upon approaching the palace gates, kept a respectable distance from the others and refused to participate in idle conversation until all of the heroes had gathered.

As for Roderick la Rochelle, the looming figure was more identifiable by his features than his armour. Like many of the Bourdonne retinue, the knight wore plain and pragmatic plate with no identifying insignias to allow the lordship to exert his terrible will upon both his people and the peasantry of neighbouring provinces with the plausibility of blamelessness. All it took - especially in the company of such far-fetched and unlikely adventurers - was the addition of his helm to mask his identity to any onlookers. The amusing height difference acted as a deterrent to any curious souls who sought to approach the girl and peek under the veil, making the cruel figure seem even larger than he truly was. His silence, however, was not uncommon; were it not for the donation of Lady Bourdonne’s complete set of letters, archivists would have very little to quote from this formidable presence amongst the party.