As a younger prince of Dhunic nobility, Nigel grew up knowing he would one day likely enter either the knighthood or the diplomat corps. As a true son of Dhun, he knew knighthood was the highest honor, the greatest achievement. As an intelligent individual, he knew that diplomacy was the only tool that had a chance in the ever darkening world. The might of Dhun's armies was in the bravery & nobility of its knights. The might of Srisia's armies was in the numbers of their troops & the callous nature of their generals. So Nigel grew up learning the sword and the pen.

The latter brought him to the attention of Mary Fisher, daughter of Duke Percival Fisher, third in line for the throne (after the royal princes, Kevin and Samuel Caer). Mary was every inch the classic Dhunic beauty. Her long brown hair, sapphire blue eyes, and cream toned skin were legendary amongst the courtiers, and her wit and wisdom and sweet nature were the best kept secret of the court. Nigel, at age 13, a fresh faced squire to the invincible Sir Rickard, Knight of the Hill, Captain of the Knights of the Paladin King's Shining Elite, was a promising poet, scribing his own verse for the older nobles and reciting it in his piping adolescent voice. After catching a glimpse of the princess in her garden, Nigel wrote a short love poem entitled "The Pure White Rose." When he got a chance to recite it to her, his stammering, nervous demeanor did as much to endear him to her as the beautiful words he wrote.

The story told within was of a young page who promised a princess a pure white rose, one that matched her purity and innocence. The tale was a classic one, though the details were different, more idealised and audacious, the pure white rose being the most cherished flower in Dhun, long since lost to their gardeners of the kingdom. Only a perfect virgin maid's tears could turn a red rose white, and only a truly noble hero could pluck one.

She gave him a lock of her hair that very night, and he kissed her softly on the cheek. Their innocence caught the eye of Anais Green, a court baroness, who took it upon herself to give both of them advice about their soon-to-be love affair. Her words made Nigel and Mary blush, but they put one or two of her ideas to the test. Shortly after, Nigel was called away to serve with Sir Rickard on a long quest.

Traveling to far Tara'hin, Rickard went to speak with the Imperial Steward of important international matters. Nigel studied on his journey, both war- and statecraft, and soon found himself amidst a strange court where he was at once the bottom of the ladder and the top, for his political savvy was only a fraction of that of the Tara'hinian courtiers, but his sword skill made theirs look like child's play. But his true talent came to the fore the night the Steward called for him to recite a poem.

Not having one at hand, nor having memorized many, he recited "The Pure White Rose" for the court. As he did so, the room went dark, and a small child walked through the crowds, who seemed to be frozen in time. She looked like a beggar girl, dirty and ragged, skinny and weak. Her eyes, however, were like holes in the universe, like empty pockets where nothing could exist.

When she spoke, Nigel thought his mind would shatter.

"Nigel Healfdane, Bearer of the White Sword and the Golden Quill, your Love will not last a year. First, you will be tempted by an exotic beauty before you ever reach your homeland again. Second, you will be tempted by the sweetest fruits, in the very garden you met your Love. Third, you will be tempted by an open door. Only one of these you will overcome, and that is the saddest part of your fate, for it will be the one that could save your Love."

And then she was gone. Nigel looked around, blushing, lost, confused, but the court appeared not to have noticed this apparition. They were all applauding his poem and congratulating him. Sensing that somehow, he shouldn't talk of seeing strange ghosts there and then, he simply accepted their praise with what grace he could muster.

After a few more days at court, Sir Rickard asked him to ride in a tourney as a full knight, feeling that Dhun should have two champions in the mix, and that Nigel was more than a match for most foreign knights when it came to tourney sports. Nigel accepted proudly, and in the tourney managed to unhorse many foreign knights. As he readied for the quarter finals, one of whom was Sir Rickard, and another of whom was a mystery knight.

This knight approached him as he readied himself in his tent for a joust. The knight removed the finely crafted dragonsteel helmet from her head, shook out her long, luxurious curls, and looked into Nigel's young eyes with dark, smouldering beauty. They lowered as she said,

"Prince Healfdance, I am Vlasta Nikolaev. I am in this fight to defeat Lord Danom, the Galdunic you are facing. He murdered and raped my sister. My vow of vendetta will not be satisfied until I have taken his life's blood, but I cannot do that without being arrested and executed. This tournament is my only chance to satisfy my debt of honor without falling victim to it as well. I beg you, allow me the chance to face him."

And Nigel, overcome by her exotic beauty and her melancholy and her debt of honor, nodded, agreeing to throw the match. Lord Danom went on to face the mystery knight in the next round, and her lance slide between his armored plates and into his heart. The Steward ruled it an accident, and the mystery knight stepped out of the tournament. Sir Rickard went on to win, knowing nothing of his squire's part in the tragedy that day. Nigel, for his part, wept when Lord Danom died.

That night, in his dreams, a hollow eyed child appeared to him, saying, "Your first temptation has passed, and you have succumbed."

He woke screaming, but none heard. Two weeks later, he was sailing back to Dhun. Upon arrival, he went to meet Mary in her garden. They embraced, kissed, and exchanged tales. So caught up were they in their reunion, they did not notice the call to dinner or the various bells. Due to the excitement of Sir Rickard's return, no one noticed their absence. It sooned dawned on them that they were alone and unmissed.

Mary wasted no time, for she had had much time to gossip with Anais Green while Nigel was away, but Nigel's honor would not allow him to succumb. He managed to resist, and though she was disappointed, she understood. The two eventually made their way to the welcome home party, and parted with a kiss that night. On his way back to his room, the shade appeared again, saying nothing. He shook it off as his tired mind playing tricks on him.

Time passed. By the time Nigel was seventeen, he was reaching the point where he would have to decide between knighthood and diplomacy. As his eighteenth birthday neared, the pressure began to mount. Which would he choose? If he chose diplomacy, he would be often away, not seeing his dear Mary very often. If he chose knighthood, the pressure would be that he continue on to paladinhood, and he would be forced to lead a celibate lifestyle. If he chose to remain a knight, he would face falling into destitution and obscurity, and not being able to support his dear Mary.

He went to Mary with his problem, and she urged him to simply chose diplomacy, and to take her with him. Sir Rickard said that knighthood without paladinhood was not as bad as many made it out to be. His parents urged him to go for the full paladinhood, seeing the glory and honor to their family.

The night before his eighteenth birthday, a stranger came to the castle. He wore a heavy gray cloak, much travel worn, and dusty white armor. He carried a flute and spoke softly, playing for the court and talking with the old, frail Paladin King like they were old friends. That night, he chanced upon Nigel in the hall.

Nigel bowed deeply to this knight errant, and the knight bowed in return. As he did so, his hood slipped, revealing his skin to be a shining silver in tone. He asked Nigel politely to show him where his room might be. Nigel lead him, nervously. The knight, who looked almost as young as Nigel, made small talk, which came about to Nigel's impending choice. The knight told of his own choice, long ago, and how he had almost become a bard instead of a leader. He made mention of a different choice--to simply leave, but that he had chosen the harder, duty-bound road, and had not regretted it.

Nigel only half-listened after the mention of leaving came up. The idea struck him that he could take Mary away from Dhun, far away, and make it on his own. He went immediately to her chambers and woke her, telling her of his mad plan. She stammered with confusion for a moment as Nigel tried to pack a bag for her. In her distress, she asked him to leave. With his heart heavy and his confusion mounting, with his indecision eating at him, he left in tears, running out the front doors of the castle, standing open. Had his tears not blinded him, he would have seen a familiar apparition as he ran.

A few moments later, the sound of Mary's voice stopped him. She was calling him back. Elated, he turned and ran back into the castle, but the gates were closed. Mary was on the wall, staring in horror behind him as a giant monster loomed above the forest. At the foot of this horror stood Anais Green, bathed in the blood of the dead princes at her feet--the royal princes, slain by treachery. On the wall, the Silver Knight came up, his sword out & burning with a brilliant white flame. He called out in a language unknwon to Nigel, and the monster backed away. Anais hissed in anger and sang out in another tongue, one that made Nigel's skin crawl. The Silver Knight screamed, his white sword falling from his hands. Anais then spoke a curse,

"Land of Dhun, your time of glory is over. The Paladin King is dead, his line extinct, and the Silver Knight and his bride are undone. Your mothers' wombs are now barren, your fathers' arms now weak as mud, your brothers' eyes white as milk, and your maidens' hearts as slow as the decay of mountains. No man or woman of this land shall be free of this burden until your own true son has returned with what he first promised his own true Love." The last came out as a snarl, and the curse bypassed Nigel, having decided to go errant the moment he stepped out of the castle. Being past midnight, he was a true son of Dhun, and he had broken his vows. He watched in horror as Mary collapsed into a deep sleep. When he turned back, anger overpowering him, Anais and her monster were gone.

Nigel dropped to his knees in grief until a light caught his eye. A bone white blade sat at the base of the castle. Lifting it, he watched as it flickered once a gout of silverflame, then died. The blade felt inert in his hands, heavy. He looked up onto the walls and saw no sign of the Silver Knight. As he watched, thick black brambles began to grow out of the stone itself, and soon, the whole castle was engulfed in thorn-ridden vines. Stumbling away, he noticed it was spreading...

...A month later, bearing many scars and a useless sword, Nigel left his home, seeking a pure white rose.

...Two months later, sitting in a Kearin port, a blind old man stumbles up to him. Nigel gasps as he recognizes the man before him.

"S-Sir Rickard?"

"Nigel? I knew it was you. I heard you..."

"Sir Rickard, what--?"

"Seek the Holy Matrix, Nigel. He was our hope. Now the Order is gone. He needs you..."

And with those words, the invincible Sir Rickard collapsed, dead.

Note: Pure White Rose = stem, leaves, petals, everything white. Not just the petals.