No one knows where Ivanhoe Grey hails from or what drives him. He arrived at the Jousting Arena one mist-shrouded dawn, mounted on a sleek black horse, and entered the lists without a word. Since then, his flawless victories and unflinching demeanor have sparked rumors among the nobles of Arinn—some whisper that he serves a hidden patron, others that he seeks vengeance for a forgotten oath. Whatever his purpose, his presence has become the talk of every festival.
Grey's armor bears no sigil, yet his style evokes the old knightly orders long thought extinct. He refuses coin, titles, or land, vanishing between tournaments like smoke. Children carve his likeness into driftwood; bards sing of his duels in taverns and courts alike. Queen Isolde herself is said to have watched his final tilt at the Festival of Silver Leaves, her expression unreadable as Grey unseated three champions in succession.
Some claim he is a relic of the Border War with Thelidor, a ghost of Arinn's past given flesh. Others believe he is tied to Lady Miren's prophecies—a blade fated to strike when the crown falters. Whatever the truth, Ivanhoe Grey has become more than a knight: he is a symbol of mystery, mastery, and the quiet power that moves beneath Arinn's polished surface.