Castle Vagon is markedly more quiet than usual, that is since nearly all the knights of the garrison rode east at the Earl's summoning three days ago. From what you may have been able to glean, Sir Roderick has unfinished business with the Baron of Noviomagus to the south, the latter having harried the border between his lands and Salisbury last year. Left behind, along with the castellan and the ordinary complement of guardsmen, are a dozen squires, including Arcadia, Bleddyn, Eliver, and Tathel.
Sir Elad has planned no drills for today, it is a Sunday after all. Morning service at the chapel has come and gone, and now the squires at Vagon employ themselves where they see fit. A few hang about, leaning their shoulders against the sides of buildings and conversing (the way adolescents are wont to do), a few take up some sticks and make a menace of themselves "sparring" eachother until an 'uncle' is cried or someone breaks a lip, some of the more timorous bunch sit in the great hall playing dice or chess, a few others have sweet-talked the spencer's daughter into sneaking them a jar of wine.
A little past mid-day, wherever you four squires of note have been spending your time, a serving boy comes to find you, and informs you that the castellan needs to see you in the armory.