(Holden d’Alnharte (MAIN), Outside of Paline, Praelium)

“Remove any weapons you have and hand me those papers.”

Holden offered the papers to the Sergeant, then stepped back. Detailed indeed in the rolled papers were the rough times of patrols, marked by 'soon before sun up', or 'long after sundown'. Attatched was a crude map, with arrows pointing to entry or siege points for an army to make use of.

“[color=f26522]I’d give you my weapon, but it’s more of a family heirloom,[/color]” he explained, “[color=f26522]it’s seen me through more fights than I could count. Orcs, elves, izekash…[/color]” Clearing his throat, he knelt down and picked up the cloth-wrapped object. He kept it, but did not open it. Trust had to work both ways, after all. “[color=f26522]If you think I still present a danger, then I invite you to bring more men with you. Had I any desire to do damage, I wouldn’t have approached you openly.[/color]”

Yusil was more than a weapon, or a tool to him; it was the only thing he could rely on through many campaigns. It was this blade that he saved his own life by damning countless others. Its edge remained perfect throughout his service, and he was not going to trust them to return it. “[color=f26522]It’s nothing personal. This, however…[/color]” He knelt down, and pulled the knife free from his boot, before offering the handle to the Sergeant. “[color=f26522]This was given to me by an old friend. See it as a sign that my word is as strong as the steel it’s forged from.[/color]” Clearing his throat, he gestured to the fortress. “[color=f26522]Shall we?[/color]”