It was a cold dreary and rainy day. The air was dense with the savory scent of rain water and foliage. The Kingdom of Elderlong being one of the most green and lush of the five kingdoms in the land of Albion. The wind carried a coldness to it, as most winters had in common. The Land of Albion was a beautiful one, full of lush trees, dense and thin forests, beautiful lakes and wonderful waters. Elderlong itself was a key example of this. Its kingdom stretched from the great white mountains to the sea itself giving it plenty of resources and a wonderful trade route. The forests were beautiful, and some even magical. The wonderful great sea, a beauty to all to see having delicious fish and other aquadic live coming from it. The Enchanted forests being a mystery to most men and women alike. Now the land of Elderlong was not without its problems or strife. On the contrary it was in the midst of a change, a great change at that. Its women were finally standing up for their rights, demanding that they be allowed to own property, to be their own people. This movement was being headed by none other than some of the noble women themselves. It was being called blasphemous, treason, and rebellious. It was herald to the end of life as most new it, the dawn of a new frightening age where women had the power of men and men.. they weren’t sure where they would be. Or so the men believed it to be. Granted the women never wanted to overthrow their male equals, they wanted equal existence and equal treatment. They wanted to be respected and be known for their own gifts and skill. They no longer desired to be a mans ‘better half’ but his wife. His equal, able to do as much as he could and further. There was one hope for this lands women, for this movement, the Heir to the throne. Princess Rose Windgate. She was a smart, elegant, classy woman with as much battle savvy as any man of her age. Her feircness and confidence oozed throughout the land. She was an active supporter of the feminist movement and an excellent heir by her fathers opinion. She, like he, shared his hatred for the dark arts, magic, and intended to see it abolished from the land in every way she could. Not only that but, like her father, she detested magic. She believed it to be the worst most foul thing someone could do to the land. She detested it so strongly that she vowed to kill anyone using it. That meant even her closet of friends! Magic had killed her mother, or so her father informed her, as such she would never allow it safe passage in this land. She awoke from her bed, eyes sharp as knives ready to begin the day. Calling one of her maidservants to her she began to dress herself in a battle attire for the Knights welcoming. She dawned a pair of long ankle length pants that were tight on her curvy form. A shirt, also tight, made of silk to stop the chainmail from rubbing her raw. Next was her chainmail which fit like a glove, its hood down on her back so as to give her tight bunned blonde hair room to breath. She approached the mantle of her rooms fireplace. Above it was a large circle shield, its middle dawned the crest of the Windgates, a dragon breathing fire. Its remainder was a bronze made edged in sharp steel. She placed that on her back, the handles crossing over her right shoulder alone. Next was her sword, a specialized sword meant for her. Its sharpness raveled by no other blade in the land. Its balance iconic. She soon appeared down by the knights training ground. No servants covering her from the pouring rain she stood proud, like any other member of the knighthood. She held her head high, waiting for the general and the knights to be to line up. This was the sacred hour Hell fire brimstone and chaos could describe how she felt about her own plan. Invading the royal military just to save the life of her sickly father was hardly her own idea of how to pass the time. She, like many other women in the kingdom, was abut Female rights but going so far as to die for it?! She huffed once she boarded her horse and took off for the capital of the kingdom. She couldn’t believe she was actually going, actually going to in the midst of men, in the midst of battle and war. She had been practicing this entire time, apparently having quite a nack for combat as her father had assumed she would. She was one of the few warriors to have mastered the Claymore, her fathers weapon of choice. This three foot long blade was as sharp as a tack and had the advantage of pound for pound damage and reach. Its devastation became especially well known when her father took out five men with it. This legend was one well known throughout the kingdom and all of Albion. The mighty warrior. Alexandria was no image of her father, her battle style was significantly different and as such she was told not to try and act like it. She was sent in place of her father and was going to battle like her life depended on it. If she was caught, she’d be dead, if she died, she’d naturally be dead. That left only one line of thought in her mind. Success! now whenever she got there, at the palace and began general combat training, she didn’t expect to be so welcomed. The other peasants respect her, obviously as a man, and they looked after her and taught her the ropes. Soon though her battle skill was so that her general nominated her, despite the cast system, to be a knight. It was unheard of, a knight being a present, that meant defying the very nature of the world at large. But she was doing it so it seemed! She held her head high with pride as she was given her honorary chainmail, given her own claymore, given her own blunted claymore, her own horse, and even her own lodging inside the palace. She couldn’t believe how lavished of a life she and her father were now enjoying. Now in the line up, in the rain on that faithful day some month after the rainy day she came, she was auditioning for knighthood, today being the first day of that torturous process. She had heard of the process from some of the other fellow Noble knights that had made it. Supposedly it began in the winter so that they could make you run nude through icy water up to ones neck moving at speeds that would sweep a lesser man away. Supposedly the process was so difficult that only one in one hundred would make it and only two out of every ten that made it could stick around afterward. She heard all of this, and laughed in its face. her dark brown hair, brown eyes, and smug look could be seen easily in the rain. Her shoulder length hair worn like a proud man her figure stout. She would defy all odds, she’d make Knighthood she knew it. Her glaze fell on the Princess whenever she showed up, a small smirk appeared and then vanished, she was proud to see that a woman was heading the army. Her icon, her legend, she would have the honor of meeting nad fighting beside her. Rose, the lethal and deadly. Alex was overly excited now, feeling her very blood pump faster with pressure it had never seen before. She was ready!