The old man, that sat on the throne, was no other than King Armand. Many years ago creatures from the north came. Rugged, lean, four horns atop the large head, muscular bodies covered with fur. They meant no harm. After them a group of rides came. Their armor was bronze, their weapons too where made from bronze. The helmets they wore weren’t open like the most of them. The front piece had a mask. They too meant no harm. Those were the good old days.

The man standing, in front of the stone, knew that this had to be done. How many times did he do this? He lost count. That man was the younger self of the King.

The runes on the stone meant that this place was the training area for the new knight. Armand waited. It was about to start. The same thing all over again. The moss was green, a good omen. Snow never fell here. There was only the cold. A cold meaning a storm was near. He wanted all of this to be done fast. Something was in the bushes. He knelt and found a wool sock.

What was it doing here? No answer.

The training was about to start.

“I should enter.”

Two pair of knight stood on either side. The first pair was calmer that the other.

“Wanna make a bet?” they asked the first pair.

“You`re on,” the first pair replied. “Twenty?”

“Twenty.”

In front of the King a tall knight stood. There were tall knights in the Kingdom, but, this one was taller by a head than the rest of them. Two horns adorned his helm. Arm thick, broad shoulders everything was large on him, even his sword.

How will the King defeat him? Is there a way to defeat him?

There is… The King moved forward. The knight was much larger than we was, there was no use missing force. There must he some other way for him to defeat this knight hopeful. The knight swung his massive arms at the king. The king rolled, avoided the punch. That was his only option. At that moment, something fell from his back pocket. What was that? It was that sock. What use could a sock against a mountain of a man. He wonder the same. Everything has a use in this world. It`s not so strange that a sock has a use. The knight saw that. He know that sock, to be precise, he made it. In his free time he makes socks. The sales are going up, the profit is larger than a month ago.

“Give it back,” the knight said, “that’s mine.”

“Is it,” the King replied, “come and get it.”

The knight moved, rushed, charged. The King moved to the side. The knight was outside the arena ground. The King has won.

The merchant of Atmhar was waiting:

“Beware of the second knight, he`s up to something.”

And with that the merchant left.

Old wooden bridge stood as the only way of crossing the river. Nobody wanted to change that se it stayed that way ever since. The second knight was entirely different than the first. Small, with a weak body and large head, he was more a jester than a knight. Two differently colored eyes looked at the group of people.

The King appeared. The game is about to begin. A table was placed with figures on each side, on the middle of the table a path divided the fields. Certain places were marked on the path. On each side of table a pair of dice was stationed. The first dice is for moving the figure, the second one is for the specially marked place - if the player stands on them or stops of them.

What happened later?

There a knight was named.