Far across the eastern plains of Toulouse, extending well beyond the provinces of France, a group of men on horseback galloped forward, their figures silhouetted against the horizon. The sun shone brilliantly, creating a collage of shimmering hues mirrored in the morning sky. They road across an endless sea of green that stretched as far as the eye could see, each blade of grass bending in the gentle breeze as they made their way. Together, these thirteen riders moved as one, their horses' hooves pounding the earth with rhythmic purpose, yet their unity was fractured by unseen divides.
These thirteen men were the strongest in France, knights, dukes, and lords bound together by title and duty, yet separated by ambition and hidden agendas. Each man carried with him a reputation, a history that set him apart from the others. At the head of the group rode none other than Godwin, the Duke to the King.
