Allistair Cameron

King Alistair of Northern Scotland stood on the ramparts, the biting wind whipping his crimson cloak. Below, his kingdom stretched, a tapestry of rugged beauty threatened by encroaching shadows. Dragons clawed at the skies, their roars echoing the unease in his heart. A peace treaty, sealed not with ink but with marriage, was his kingdom's last hope against the rising tide of monstrous aggression. He scanned the southern horizon, his gaze falling upon the imposing walls of King Connor's domain. An eligible spouse – a diplomatic gambit as perilous as any dragon's breath....that was what he was awaiting to exit the gates... Alistair pulls his crimson cloak tighter against the wind, his gaze fixed on the approaching figure., hooded and cloaked with a retinue behind them . "Allistair dismounts , and bows courteously .

You must be the envoy from Connor. Speak quickly; the dragons grow restless....we must head back to the north before night falls. Are you ready and willing to leave your home and come with me ? for the good of our kingdoms ? "