Walking along, paying only half attention to the quiet conversations of the rest of the party, an 
unexpected rock causes you to trip and stub your toe. As the burst of pain dies down it is replaced 
by the prickle of pins and needles, swiftly spreading up your leg and out over your entire body. You 
grit your teeth and close your eyes for a moment, willing the sensation to go away.

The conversations are replaced by the sound of echoing footsteps; you open your eyes to find yourself 
in the Great Hall of the stronghold of the Paladins of the North. Glancing around you see some of your 
fellow Paladins, all that are currently in residence, lining the walls; at the head of the hall on the 
dais stands Knight High Paladin Avalon, still hale and hearty after all these years. Approaching from 
the main doors is a young man, worn and travel stained but with eyes aglow.

He walks past you and kneels at the foot of the dais. Avalon speaks, "Rise, young man, and state your 
name and your purpose."

The young man gets to his feet. "I, Marlowe of Ravenscroft, have heard the call and wish to become a 
Paladin." The fervour in his voice makes you smile, you remember the feeling well.

"Do you swear to defend the weak and innocent, to always follow the code of chivalry, and to protect 
those who are your allies even to the point of death?" Avalon's words are stern, but you can see the 
warmth in his eyes.

The young man replies passionately, "I do, and more if it is asked!"

Avalon smiles. "Well, my brothers in arms, shall we accept this man to join us, a champion of right?" 
The formerly silent paladins shout their assent, raising their weapons in a salute. You shout along with 
them, and as you raise your mace you feel the tingle of pins and needles start in your fingers and flow 
along your arm. The prickling washes through you; you find yourself back with the patrol, still with weapon 
upraised.