Marc gave a shallow nod and slight shrug of the shoulders "Here in Ferelden we sometimes settle disputes with single combat. But if that's how our alliance is forged then it will be a flimsy one peppered with hate. He wouldn't break his word to me I know, but in times like these comradery is just as important as power. If thats all then we should enter." Marc turned around to face the guard and gave him a nod, then followed him up the steps of the ancient castle and to the rotting wooden door which the man promptly pushed open. 

"Go on in, he's expecting you as ye' said." The guard said, standing aside to allow passage. Marc nodded and entered, followed by the party.

"I know I don't need to say this, but please don't speak out of turn in here." He said as they entered the not-so-great hall of Redcliffe castle. It was fairly small with a hearth on the far end and wooden supports lining the left and right sides of the room. A guard was positioned in every space between the supports and fine paintings lining the old stone walls. The floor was adorned with a red carpet bearing the sigil of Redcliffe upon it. As the party marched quietly across the carpet to stand on the sigil in the center they would notice an older man with a broad belly and weak shoulders standing near the dark hearth embroiled in a heated debate with a younger, more physically impressive man whom happened to be accompanied by two soldiers clad in dark steel splintmail.

"You cannot refuse. The threat is too great." The younger man stated, to which the elder replied,

"Bann Howard you are a vassal, it is not for you to decide. You're here to offer counsel and your counsel has been heard. Leave me, my decision is made."

"Arl Cunnington you will regret this when the blight comes to break down that old piece of dead wood you call a door." Bann Howard said, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. "Your brain's gone soft in your old age." He said turning around to head toward the door. 

"We'll discuss your behavior later, Bann Howard." Arl Cunnington said to him as he shoved Scout aside lightly to pass by. When he did so Marc simply looked at scout and shook his head silently, signaling him to keep his composure. Marc then turned back to Cunnington. "Ah, Commander Levine it is an honor." The Arl said, descending the steps from the hearth to greet Marc with a handshake.

"Cunnington. It's been too long." Marc returned, pulling the Arl in to a tight embrace for a second or two. 

"Indeed, it is a shame we must be reunited under such dire circumstances. But I suppose that the Wardens only show themselves during the darkest of times anyway." He said, looking over Marc's shoulder to view the Kosith and the Dwarf, unlike many surfacers of Ferelden he did not appear to show any disdain for either race and instead smiled and bowed his head respectfully to each of the three. 

"Arl Cunnington, I'd love to exchange pleasantries with you but I'm afraid we have pressing business to attend to." Marc said, presenting the document to the elderly man. With a bit of unhappiness in his face Cunnington gently grabbed and unfolded the parchment. He turned away from the party, walking back and ascending the steps toward the cold hearth whilst scanning the words with his dark gray eyes. 

"I had feared that this would be your reason for attending my court," escaped Cunnington's thick red lips. "I'm sure you heard my little debate with Howard a moment ago, it concerned this issue. He disagrees with me most heavily upon this matter but I'm afraid I cannot fulfill the promise my forefathers made to you." Cunnington said, shredding the parchment down the middle with one swift tear and allowing the pieces to fall to the floor. At the sight, Marc launched forward a step, outrage was apparent in his body language.

"What do you think you're doing?" he yelled, approaching the hearth quickly until he was stopped by the sound of swords sliding free of their scabbards. Marc looked up and the Arl had his hand raised in the air, which allowed the soldiers to sheathe their swords once more. Not once did Marc look back to his party to see what they were doing, but he hoped that his faith in their composure was not misplaced. "We need Redcliffe." 

"I'm sorry, Commander Levine but the truth is that my Arling needs Redcliffe even more than you. If I send my soldiers off to war with the Darkspawn, then how will I protect my own lands? If you march north and face the Archdemon, what happens when a Darkspawn garrison decides to sally forth from the east? Or the south, or the west? My lands... My people. They will be destroyed if I send my men off with you, and then even this castle that we make our meeting in tonight, would not be safe." Cunnington explained, adamant in his decision.

"We must all make sacrifices don't you understand? If you don't give me your men then even more lands in Amaranthine or the Hinterlands or Orlais may be destroyed. We must come together, you must see reason." Marc debated to no avail. 

"I am sorry, Marc. You are dismissed." The Arl said, raising his hand for silence when Marc tried to speak again, followed by two soldiers coming to place their hands on Marc's biceps to escort him out. Shaking free he looked at both of them before turning back to his party and trudging passed them toward the door.

"Lets go." was all he said before leading them out of the castle, through the courtyard, and to the cliff overlooking Lake Calenhad. The sun had begun to set into it's midday heat when Marc looked out across the water. His display of ill-temperment in the hall may have made him look like a poor leader, but he could not control it, his hopes were riding on Redcliffe. "Scout, Isala, Maas. What do you suggest we do now?" he asked, looking back to the party.