Down in the vast fields of Vaas Plains, there is a clearing with many colored tents that house knights of the House of Casterly. It had been years since the Great War, and now, the up and coming Knights are in training with their brothers. Where those that did not return have been honored by the new blood, younger brothers take up the sword and arrow, to defend the House of Casterly and its King Henry.
Down at the archery field, we can see Sir Wayne’s squires busying themselves to have the practice arrows laid out ready to be taken up and used with the targets. Godfrey and Thomas, who had served their Knight; Sir Arthur for well over twenty years and all through the wars, are both cheerful at the sight of so much new blood to master the art of being bowman. Sir Wayne can be seen walking along behind a line of the newer recruits, adjusting their elbow heights, and offering words of encouragement. It had been the war that changed Wayne so much. Having long come to terms with the death of his wife, Ambrosia. He now knows his calling, and that is to provide experience, knowledge and guidance to the younger brothers. Traditionally a Knight of the Sword, he knows the value in bowmen, especially angels. With their ability to soar through the clouds, this makes for a spectacular attack on their foe.
Back at his tent, Estelle is washing his clothing by hand. Still in his service, she has always held a candle to Sir Wayne, though not yet had the courage to express the truth of her feelings, even after he returned from the Great war. But every now and then, she sees the looks he gives her, and this gives her warmth in her heart. One day, she will be brave enough to speak her heart, till then she is his devoted servant. Watching him as he tends to his brothers, and acts much like a General of the army of the House of Casterly, she cannot help the tide of feeling, so proud that he has come so far from his days of depression and grief.
At the archery site, Sir Reginald Donalds, a brother in arms to Sir Wayne is leading the score board, with his skill with the bow, and cleaves through a second arrow with his own, splitting it down the middle. No finer shot is known through out the lands, and even this brings a bemused smile from his long time friend.
“You do not give the young a chance, Reg.” Sir Wayne chortles, taking the arrows from the target with a hearty pull.
“And so if I do not. I have a reputation, Wayne, not about to dash that in the face of the green ones you sent me.” The white haired angel laughed. Wayne walked over and held up the split arrow. “You make more work for the squires if you keep doing this to the arrows.” Wayne replied. Overheard by Godfrey, the young squire sings out. “I make them and he breaks them. You don’t think I would be not used to this, M’lord.” A few of the younger Knights find humor in this and then a large bell is rung, to signal that luncheon is ready. Two long tables set up with breads, meats and cheeses, along with jugs of ale. It was a good day to be a Knight.