Archers of the Midrealm, we have been given an opportunity. At Twelfth Night in Northwoods, Prince Peter accepted my pledge of support. I stated that nothing short of death would stop me from coming to Pennsic and doing my best for King and Country. I gave him an arrow as a token of this pledge. Later that night he indicated that he would accept a pledge and token from others. If you are absolutely sure, you can make it to Pennsic and that you will do your best for King and Country, put your name on an arrow. Bring that arrow to any court that Peter is at. Come Pennsic, come the war, our King will have many arrows in His quiver to lay the Tyger low.
Myth speaks of Cadmus, a man who planted Dragon's teeth. He grew an army. I say Dragon's Teeth, are a very hardy seed. They grow when planted in the cold frozen misery of January and bloom in the heat of war. What seeds do you plant today? War is not won in August. War is won now. It is won by the hearts and hands of our crafters and armors. It is won on the practice lines and drill grounds long before the Kings gather. A bow released from its slumber in a back closet to a new and willing hand is another archer this year or next or even the year after. Your ugly old helm turns into one more shield on the line. We have a duty to those who trained us and trained with us to pass the fire forward. It is the fire that now burns on the hearth at home that shines from the eyes of the Midrealm in August.
Royal Archery Champion