Sir Graham Nord, a Knight of pure valour and honour. He never fought dirty once in his life, never lost a fight either. Though born of a poorer family than most Knights' were usually taken from he fought for his name, and his glory, until one day, the Viking army marched on his home.

He took up a toy sword, a short wooden plaything, And he fought. Even though having no prior swordsmanship, or training he managed to acquire a real sword from a Viking after fighting him with such precision he would have been called a master of the art.

He used the metal sword to take down twelve Vikings before he was too tired to continue. But he strained on Fighting, the villagers gained courage from this sixteen year old, taking on full grown warriors, and winning.

They took up their tools and started to fight.

The conflict was bloody, but for years after he was celebrated, knighted and worked for his country. His armour was not consistent of normal plate iron. No, it was made of silver, plate silver, silver chain-mail. He was given a long silver sword and made an honorary Knights Templar.

He was given the cloth of the Templar symbol as his shoulder cape. His helm was a full one, covering his face and head. It had depicted on the front a crucifix slit. His gauntlets were iron-silver crossed, He was made an honorary witch hunter after assisting in several trials where the accused would have been killed even though they were most definitely innocent.

But This isn't the story of his rise to glory, far from it. This is the story of how a knight of the king found himself in a land filled with colourful horses, with horns and wings. Where a female was ruler, and that everything was a 'Democracy'.