Alistair was just an ordinary farmer; he had short but unkempt brown hair, a tall lean physique, and some growing stubble on his chin. His father, Jura, was a retired soldier for the Kings Empire. Jura taught Alistair how to fight like a soldier due to the surrounding circumstances around the state of the Kingdom. The Kingdom was under great disarray due to revolutionaries sprouting up attempting to fight back against the tyranny of the king. Alistair was looking at the haul he had today and shouted to his father "I think this one is going to be big!" in excitement. Jura responded with a measly approving grunt, with an exclaim of recognition Jura reminded Alistair "Remember today we are going to get into dual sword swordplay brat!" Alistair smiled and responded "Alright you sniveling old man!" Due to the two not having the best of relationships a couple years back this was how the two family members showed affection however crude it was. Jura, because he is located on the edge of their land, notices a thin line of smoke coming from the small village. "Son!" he barks in a serious tone, "Get to the hideout NOW!" Alistair looks in his direction before inquiring urgently "Are you coming with me?" "I'll be there soon boy." Jura responded without looking at Alistair. Jura sprints to the little cottage that they live in and goes to his room. He seemingly rips apart his bed only to see a large trunk at the bottom. With a solemn look, Jura opens it to find a suit of armor and two very exquisite swords. They are double edged, but the most interesting thing about them is their blades midnight black color. The handle however is mostly white, a stark contrast from the blade. Jura dons his suit of armor and his weapons to go and protect his son. After an hour of complete silence, Alistair hears loud noises coming from above him along with the sound of light thumping, there is someone above him. Hearing clashes of metal, Alistair knows that something is wrong. He rushes upstairs to find complete destruction, there is furniture thrown everywhere, and unconscious bleeding bodies spread throughout the house. Alistair dashed to wear he heard the most metal clashing and finds his father, bleeding and injured, fighting a man in a white suit of armor. Alistair picks up a kitchen knife and ambushes the man in white, however his blow is parried and he is kicked away. Alistair writhes on the floor due to the hard blow of the man in white as he walks over to him. Alistair watches as the man swings his sword in Alistair's direction, to only find a blade sticking out of his chest. Jura is behind him holding the handle. Jura soon keels over succumbing to the grievous wounds he acquired during the long battle against the soldiers. "Father! What is going on what happened, are you okay?" Alistair spouts off. Jura rasps and coughs before whispering "No time, find... Ulric, in capital, weapons store. Take my swords and bring honor to the name of the Black Knight." and goes limp. Alistair sits over the body of his father with a disbelieving look and shakes him "Father you can wake up now." Another shake "Come on this isn't funny get up." He shakes with more desperation "Wake up you old bastard!" He finally yells before sobs rip through his throat and he grieves. Hours staying with his father prove fruitless as Jura is finally dead. Alistair walks down the streets of his old village, swords strapped to the sides of his waist. He walks out of the village and in the direction of the capitol. It takes a week but he gets there. Alistair walks through the gates with a mesmerized look on his face, the capitol has large fancy buildings everywhere and the people are full of energy, talking meaningless gossip and living ignorant of the tyranny of the king everywhere else. Alistair