It is a dark evening on the Tundra of New Karindi, Dalfador is in his study calculating weekly revenues. A knock echoes into his quarters. He walks to the door, his fingers stained with ink. He opens the door to see one of his Estate guards; "M'lord, Holiday of Art of War has arrived to talk with you, he says time is of the essence, and it seems urgent."
Dalfador twirls his beard for a while, leaving blots of ink in it; "Very well, send him in."
Holiday reveals his face from the shadow, "Brother! I am glad you are here, I bring news from the Leaders of the Free Companies." Dalfador walks to his desk and motions to a chair, Holiday nods and takes a seat.
Holiday takes a deep breath and says, "We require your assistance, Dalfador. This war is hitting us hard. There is a shortage of troops and our generals are abandoning us right in our own territory. They seem to have lost interest in our campaign, calling it a "lost cause". I come to you in our time of need, brother."
Dalfador gets up and walks to his window, stroking the metal frame as he leans his head against the cold, hard glass. "Holiday you know I have no business in military conflict, I'm just an old retired noble. The lords and ladies of Calradia laugh at the idea of me being involved in their affairs."
Holiday glares at Dalfador in confusion and slight disgust. "Old retired noble? You are a Crusader of Acre. Duty, Justice, and Honor above all else. Or have you already forgotten about the code?"
(reference: story of acre: http://crusadersofacre.guildlaunch.com/custom.php?page_id=88297&gid=235493) Holiday takes a stand from his seat.
"Few are with us, and many against us. The tides of our campaign can turn, but we need your help. Raise us an army. You have an order of knights and warriors to support you. The New Karindians are eager to bloody their pitchforks with the blood of those who will threaten their well being. Rally them to our cause and they shall take a liking to you, perhaps even support you as their leader."
Dalfador looks to his war spear, mounted on the wall. It's steel head sharpened to perfection. It was glorious. "A day may come when the courage in our hearts fails, and the age of the Free Companies comes crashing down, but it is not this day." He grips the spear and slams the butt on the wooden floor, leaving an echo in time itself.
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