It was the 25th of March of the year 344 of the Imperial Calendar, when Christopher Urso was having a walk around Turos, the capital of a marquisate with the same name near the Great Human Empire's north-eastern border with the Red Mountain Kingdom of dwarves, as well as the closest thing Christopher had to a hometown. As to why it wasn't quite right to call it one, that's because he was an only child of Nathaniel Urso, the owner of Urso Trading Company, one of the most well-known trading caravans on the continent. And since traveling merchants need to, well, travel, he left the place of his birth after only 2 months, to return to it after 3 years. Even then, they stayed for only 3 months, which was still long compared to their average stay in a city of comparable size, which was 2 months at most.

This cycle would repeat several times up until now, when the caravan stopped by Turos as usual for a slightly extended period of time. This time however, there was another reason: at the 1st day of April Christopher would be 15 years of age, reaching the official age of maturity. This of course called for a grand celebration, and since his father was a person of many connections, even nobles would attend. And with them, their daughters.

Chris wasn't really looking towards that part of his 15th birthday, but it was something he "had to live with", as his father said.

But now, let's get back to our soon-to-be birthday boy and his morning stroll.

It was actually a habit of his instilled by his father to have a refreshing walk or a short run after waking up and before going to sleep, both to keep his condition high and to see what is happening around. When the caravan was camping on the road, he would tag along the armored escorts of mercenaries for those walks, allowing him to ask the men about sword techniques and great battles they undoubtedly took part in. And since the guard composition changed every city, even more so if there was an attack on the way, he never ran out of grandiose stories about powerful swordsmen or new approaches to swordfights. It was thanks to them that he picked up an interest in swords, uncovering his great talent for said swordsmanship. He also met 2 or 3 fighting magicians, but he didn't really care for magic.

Now, where were we? Oh right, the boy.

He just passed the city square and went into the main road of Turos, called by it's citizens The Gold River (a name well deserved, considering the sheer amount of merchants and traders setting up shop along it's length. It is also the street where most of his father's caravan's members sell their goods), when something caught his eye on one of the stands selling swords, daggers and "everythin' wit' a blade", as the sign proclaimed.

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Inside a small tent housing the shop was a dwarf with a dark and obviously long and thick beard, now eyeing Christopher, judging what kind of a customer he was in his mind.

Chris nodded slightly to the owner, which seemingly satisfied the man (or woman, with dwarves you can never tell) and proceed to look at the trinket that pulled him here: a beautiful, Black Steel dagger with intricate engravings on the hilt and a small gem in the pommel.

Unluckily for the shop owner, the boy neither had enough money on him for something so expensive (it cost at least a Crown) nor did he need to buy it, since the caravan came here from the Red Mountain forges where Black Steel is made, and if he wanted one, he could have asked his dad for one.

It would be important to mark that Chris wasn't a spoiled child. Of course, his family was well off, but that wasn't always the case. His dad came from a family of commoners, so he was taught proper manners, as well as respect for money and appreciation for being one of the lucky few to even see a gold Crown in his life. He still wasn't nobility, though.

After some silent watching, which was not exactly appreciated by the shopkeeper, Chris continued onward, stopping only for a moment before one or two shops, and entered a side alley leading to his house.

His house was a tenement with a tall ground floor, 3 floors above that and a small attic at the top. The building was quite large, sporting a width of 4 windows and an entrance the width of around one and a half located in the middle of the building. The door and the street leading to it needed to be so sizeable, because on the ground floor and the first floor the main headquarters of the Urso Trading Company were located, and as a cause of that even that alley spanning the width of an average 4-horse wagon with some space around was barely enough to maintain an acceptable throughput of people and goods.

Upon entering the building, a tall, blonde man in his forties approached Chris, and almost unnoticeably bowed before him.

"How was your walk, young Master?"

"Fine, thanks Nolan. how was yours?"

"I am quite busy with the preparations for Your birthday, however for now everything seems to be going smoothly."

Nolan Tacker was the butler and steward of the Urso household, as well as the main person responsible for keeping the house in pristine condition during his occupants' absence or intact during the young Master's sword training, if it was carried out inside, for example due to bad weather.

"Is father free right now?"

"Right now Mister Urso is having a meeting with the two elven merchants who tagged along the caravan on Your way here, it seems they want to join. I presume he will be done in no time, however he will only be free for a short while. Someone important from the Capital's branch of the Imperial Merchant Organisation requested an urgent meeting."

"Right... well, see you later!"

"Likewise, young Master." With these word, the butler went away to handle the constant income and outcome of people, and Christopher went upstairs, to his dad's office.