The Lance of Truth emboldens the Rider, speeding them to their target where they deliver a powerful blow.
|Level 1||Level 2||Level 3|
|Speed / s||480||480||480|
- Knight's Focus
The bearer's resolve is hardened by the light of Truth, strengthening all attacks.
|Level 1||Level 2||Level 3|
|Damage Increase (+%)||35||50||65|
Black Tristan the Usurper stole the throne of Silvermere in a coup, without ever drawing a sword. When Tristan came for his uncle's crown, none stood to stop him taking it. Tristan simply made the command, and the noble family of Silvermere were hunted and executed.
Just ahead of Tristan's men ran the last of the loyal knights of Silvermere. Syr Baelar fled the castle as the carnage was beginning, stealing away into the night with the youngest child of the Silvermere line, a baby boy named Thorvald.
In the years after he stole his uncle's crown, Tristan's empire grew large and powerful, and he turned to tournament and blood sports to slake his thirst for violence.
Baelar told Thorvald nothing and raised the boy as his own. Thorvald grew up strong, and served his master well. Syr Baelar taught the young boy how to turn a sword and how to strap the plate mail armor of a knight. They traveled the land as the boy grew into a young man. Baelar making their coin as a tournament champion. He was renowned for his skill with the lance, and this too, Baelar taught to his young charge, until Thorvald was as skilled as the old knight himself.
One sad day, Baelar fell ill. In the drafty abbey hall where he lay dying, the old man wheezed his tale. He told Thorvald that he was of peasant birth himself and that the good Lord of Silvermere had granted him a patent of lineage when he was a young man, a debt he had always carried. Finally, he revealed that Thorvald was truly of noble birth, the heir of Silvermere itself. The old knight's last gifts to Thorvald were his charger, his armor and his lance, which he bade Thorvald take up, and reclaim his justice.
Thorvald rode to the Grand Banner Tourney at his lost home of Silvermere to challenge his cousin. As he lay in his bedroll the night before the tournament, he dreamed of Syr Baelar. The knight appeared as he was in his prime, strong and hale, and with him stood a titan of Hyperion, bearing a pale lance that burned with an inner light. The titan spoke to Thorvald, and he felt a great peace.
The titan spoke of knightly virtue, and of honor, of courage and of strength of arms, but most of all, the titan spoke of truth. "The light of truth," the titan said, "will pierce the darkest heart." When he woke, Thorvald found a lance beside him, and his master's armor was polished and shone in the morning light as though it were newly forged.
Thorvald entered the Grand Banner Tourney with no herald, and carrying no banner, yet in his master's armor, and wielding the lance of truth. He could not be defeated. Finally, Thorvald challenged Black Tristan himself, calling his cousin onto the field to defend his honor.
Tristan stepped down to unmask the mysterious challenger, swearing to kill him for his impertinence, but it was not to be.
The clash of arms was mighty, but the cruel lord could land no blow upon Thorvald's shining armor, nor could he avoid the thrust of Thorvald's lance. Guided by the truth of Thorvald's claim to the throne, the white lance split Tristan's heavy iron breastplate and the cruel lord of Silvermere was driven into the loam. He would terrorize the people of Silvermere no more.
Thorvald reclaimed his keep and kingdom that day, and a new age of prosperity dawned over the lands of Silvermere, illuminated by the light of Truth and carried by the strength of champions.