This round shield sent from Rhodes Island's Engineering Department seems rather plain, but robust and reliable. Apparently it was the result of the Department holding a 'traditional Victorian arms manufacturing competition' in their spare time. 'This was one of the symbols of a knight,' said the Engineering operator to Dagda in their most charming voice, 'so we decided it'd be best to give it to one of the lady knights making the rounds between Rhodes Island and Victoria.' Dagda looks at the shield proudly displayed atop the table, and can't help but think back to the time before she was accepted as a trainee under the Knights of the Tower. Back then, other than the strict physical and tactical training regimens, she also took many classes on knightly etiquette. Amongst the grueling and complicated tests of memory and body language drills, this simple round shield had been a major component of them. The historical piece of military equipment was once used daily by knights of old, but the knights of today have long since left theirs at home when marching to war. They would be hung above fireplaces, or used as a nameplate to display one's identity. Expensive paints were commonly used to draw family crests or the coats of arms of various knightly orders. These brightly-colored designs would cover up the shield's own color, just as their delicate etiquette would cover up the inherent violence a knight represents. Finn, the Captain of the Watch, once described a scene of the knights and their dazzling shields to Dagda: During the evenings of celebration days, the knights would parade down the street, clad in fine armor and with arms in hand. Their shields with their crests and blazons would proudly display images of their birthplaces, or warriors in various stances, or myriad different flowers, or great sturdy beasts, or checkered patterns one could weave into a net. The crisp rhythm of the military drums accompanied deep horns enveloping the orderly knights, and by the end of the parade they would all face towards the flame atop the tower. But that tower has long since collapsed, and these knightly tableaus now exist only in Dagda's imagination. 'I've never actually seen the scene my mentor once described to me.' Recovering her senses somewhat, Dagda continues. 'Just like those books that record the exploits of knights long past, and the ones attempting to define whether a knight's life was glorious and honorable, my position as a knight is long gone. If you asked me if there's still anything worth engraving on that...' Dagda takes the shield off to the workshop, where she draws what she considers to be her emblem—a coat of arms from the streets.