LORE:
Evelyn Auvera had always struggled to fit in with the Order of the Silver Shield. Orphaned at a young age, she was raised by the priesthood in a small abbey in the countryside. However, she was always getting into mischief in one way or another, and it was eventually decided she was not fit to take the vows of a holy life. Instead, she was handed over to the knighthood, where her boisterous behavior might be more suited and better controlled.
Evelyn trained as a squire, and although she enjoyed the physicality, she struggled with showing the deference her position required. As a result, it took her twice as long to earn her knighthood as the other squires, even though she was one of the best among them at riding and swordplay. She was frequently fined for her insolence and found herself shamed in the stocks on more than one occasion.
When word came down that the Order of the Silver Shield was looking for volunteers to serve on the frontier of Praetoria, Evelyn jumped at the opportunity, hoping for a fresh start in a new land.
Her first post at Spireguard in the Pristine Northwest was a blessing. Things were different there, without the tedium of pomp and circumstance, and she was finally assigned a sergeant who understood her. She worked well with the other knights assigned to Spireguard, and for the first time in her life, she felt like she belonged.
Then came the Chaos Legion attack.
The Silver Shield Knights fought hard and well, but they were outnumbered by at least ten to one. Their defense lasted three days before Spireguard fell. During that final bloody battle, Evelyn fell from her horse and was knocked unconscious, dragged away with her boot caught in the stirrup. She awoke in a small copse of trees, alone but for her horse feeding on the dry grass.
Since that day, she has pledged her service to the Praetorians and to help them however she can. And if that includes lopping off a head or two of the Chaos Legion invaders, even better.
Evelyn led her horse into the small village. The folk stopped what they were doing and watched her. She must have looked in a sorry state indeed, her mismatched armor battered and beaten.
“You from New Dawn?” a bald, old man asked.
Evelyn shook her head. “I need a smith.”
“But you’re a Silver Shield Knight, are you not?” he said.
“I am. Was. The Silver Shield has been defeated. Haven't you heard?” she replied.
A few gasps ran about the onlookers. The old man scratched at his bald pate as he looked Evelyn up and down. “And where are these Chaos invaders now? Not on your heels, I hope.”
Evelyn bristled. “I wouldn't lead danger to your village.”
“Then there's a smith here, if you have the coin,” the man said. He pointed to a low building with smoke curling from its chimney. “And what do you intend to do once you’re whole again?”
“I intend to march straight back the way I came and wet my sword with their blood, unless you have a better idea.”
The old man smiled, his face wrinkling from one ear to the other. “Oh, I have a better idea. And if it's Chaos soldiers you’re after, I think you'll like it very much.”