You look around the room and get braced with your surroundings. As you pick up your sword, you swing it as if it were second nature. Somehow you just "know" the stance. A young boy walks in.

"Sir Smith." The boy bows. "Are you alright? Do you need anything from your squire? Do not forget that today we are suppose to aid with the festival tournament for the Princess's birthday."

You look at the boy, wondering what in the nine hells he is talking about.