Two more hours pass as Redmane, Thomas, and Einsam make their way towards the closest barony. It's almost funny in that at one point there seemed to practically be an unspoken competition between Thomas and Einsam; neither wished to show any weakness on tiring on the trip. Thankfully before either collapsed they reach their destination.
"Baron Adalric Shergan, is the current owner of this fortress," Thomas explains as the young-in-appearance ranger heads towards the main gates. "He has been ruling approximately a Year-and-a-Half. He inherited it from his own father, Deitrich, whom fell in a minor border skirmish with November."
The explanation prompts a look of surprise from Einsam. "How would you possibly know all that?" the wolf asks. "This place is little known and often ignored in the lands of December."
"It is my job to know as much as possible about all ruling Lords and current families of note," Thomas claims. "Plus since I knew we would be passing through December, I did some research in the lineage of current nobles of note that we might encounter. Always best to know your enemies, I always say. Or nobles; about the same thing, really." The last bit is followed with a wink to Redmane.
"Thomas is always prepared to look like a smart-ass," Redmane agrees. "It's a requirement for all Golden Hawks Officers, I imagine. That, and he's always trying to out-do my horse in that regard."
"No one is a bigger ass than your horse, Red," Thomas quips, "Both figuratively and literally."
"Watch what you say - we haven't met the baron yet," Redmane says quietly.
"Are you two married?" Einsam asks the pair. "Or do you really hate each other?"
"I we answered that, it would ruin the mystique," Redmane points out to the wolf.
"I have thankfully avoided such a torment!" Thomas claims as he marches up to the great door. He pulls out his hunting dagger. There he knocks loudly on the wood, the butt of his dagger striking each time with a resounding thud.
The half-wolf shakes his head after a brief look of dismay is cast to Redmane. Before anything more can be said, the sound of create metal bolts being thrown can be heard and then with a groaning whine, the gate to the castle begins to open.
"About time," Thomas mutters as he returns his dagger to its sheath.
"We probably interrupted supper," Redmane notes. "So don't be hard on the gatekeeper."
A tall (nearly seven feet!), gaunt, icy looking gentleman in butler's gard is standing on the other side. His expression is so grim and solemn he would likely make an undertaker seem the life of a party. "We do not offer sustenance to vagrants," the butler intones. "Find another place to seek handouts."
"Before turning us out, could you tell the Baron that the Countess Redmane of May seeks an audience?" Redmane asks.
"You are the Countess?" the butler asks incredulously. "The next thing you will tell me is this one is the Lord Explorer," he adds with a calm wave of his hand to Thomas.
"Actually, he is, but I didn't want to say anything," Redmane notes, looking at Thomas. "I can't imagine any nobles are ever keen to have the Lord Explorer under their roof."
"Well, since you mention it," Thomas comments, "I am. We can produce evidence of the claim if it is necessary."
"I an Einsam," the wolf adds, "No one of note."
"You make it sound like I'm the harbinger of doom, Red," Thomas remarks to the woman.
"Well.." Redmane starts to say to Thomas, ending with a grin and a shrug.
"And it was such a pleasant evening," the butler sighs. "Enter."
Makes a gracious after you gesture to the men.
Redmane makes a gracious after you gesture to the men.
"Don't act so happy," Thomas comments as he passes by the butler. Once past, Thomas slips his cloak off and throws it over the butler's shoulder. "Here, you can hang my cloak, it is rather warm in here," Thomas says.
"Is he always like that?" Einsam asks Redmane before he follows after Thomas.
"Only when he's awake," Redmane notes, and follows along without giving anything to the butler.
The entryway of the fortress is rather modest, all things being equal. The ceiling is about ten feet above them and crafted of rough timber. The furnishings, well, are only slightly better than Redmane's ranch home. "If M'lord and M'lady will wait here, I will tell the Baron of your arrival," the butler says. He bows deep, then turns and heads down the hall.
"Am I always like what?" Thomas asks.
"A jerk," Einsam comments, "Or at least rather ... uncouth."
"Only to those who are already acting like jerks," Thomas claims.
"Thomas is unto a mirror which reflects the world around him," Redmane claims, with a poetic lilt.
"Someone paid attention in English class," Thomas mutters.
Although only Einsam can see it, Redmane sticks her tongue out at the back of Thomas' head.
"It is a wonder we are all not doomed," Einsam mutters and shakes his head.
"By the wonders of the world, my butler spoke the truth. I have been honored with two legendary guests," comes a smooth and strong voice, followed by a stately, snow-skinned,black maned, elfin Lord. As he approaches Redmane can estimate he stands about six feet tall. And frankly, for a minor Lord, he dresses very well; he's draped in a deep red, silk, 'smoking' jacket and under that he wears a blowsy white shirt tucked neatly into flowing blank pants. He first gows to Redmane and bows deeply to her. His hand takes hers into his; a touch that is both gentle and yet somehow strong. He lifts her hand to his lips and there he places a delicate kiss upon its back. "You are more beautiful than the stories from the grand celebration of the changing of the Year described, Countess of May. You are most welcome in my simple home. I hope that it will not be too displeasing to a woman of finer tastes," he says as he rises. "I am Baron Adalric Shergan."
Thomas glances towards Einsam and arches his brow at the 'courting' of Redmane. The wolf only shrugs slightly.
"Charmed," Redmane says, smiling brightly at the courtly manners and flattery. "Trust me, my dear Baron; your home is quite impressive compared to my own humble estate."
"You are too kind, truly. My home is not fit for beauty such as yours," the Baron says with a smile; his blue eyes dancing in the pale firelight from wall torches. He slips his hand away from Redmane's and now bows to Thomas. "And a good day to you, Milord Explorer. I see that the stories about you are also true; you have made my butler most vexed. He was muttering after he informed me of your arrival. I must say, it brightened my day. He is a good servant, but some days he can be a bit trying."
"Well, he did call us vagrants," Thomas comments, amused. "I find that I cannot allow such attitude to go unchallenged. A pleasure to meet you, Baron Shergan. I hope that we are not imposing too greatly upon you. We would like shelter for the evening as well as some time to discuss an issue of concern in the lands protected by your watch, if you will permit it."
"We are hoping your knowledge of the area and its people will aid is in uncovering a minor mystery, Baron," Redmane adds. "A man of your obvious intelligence would be a great boon to our quest."
"My knowledge and home are at your disposal. Anything that assists two legendary servants of the crown helps my own lands as well," the Baron says as he now turns to the half-wolf. "And yes, the mysterious wolf who roams the forests. My soldiers have spoken of you; one who shuns companionship. I hope that we have not done something to offend you?"
"I ... no. I just do not wish the company of fey," Einsam says as his demeanor becomes more apologetic and less challenging.
Redmane winces a bit at Einsam's choice of wording. But she knows better than to expect wolves to be anything but direct.
"Ah, well, no matter! You are all welcome tonight. Shall we withdraw to the sitting room to discuss this minor matter? I sent my servant to prepare a couple rooms. I am afraid we only have two free rooms that are not being renovated at the moment. I hope that you and your wolf friend will not mind sharing a chamber this evening?" he says to Thomas. "The Countess, of course, will have her own room."
"I've slept in a damp cave with five others before. A chamber with one wolf will not be an affront to me," Thomas says and slightly dips his head, "It is fine."
"Thank you, Baron," Redmane says, giving a little bow. She's tempted to ask if the room has a bathtub.. but doesn't want to seem too demanding.
"If you try to 'cuddle' me, I will devour your head," Einsam mutters.
Redmane makes an effort not to snicker at that comment.
"This way," the Baron says as he motions for the group to follow. The walk is short and without much to see, really. A few tapestries depicting legendary battles of the past (and disturbingly, they are battles Redmane remembers being in), and the expected series fo family portraits of the former Barons in all the regalia. And soon enough the Baron has led them into a small library. It's cozy in here, with several over-stuffed and very comfortable looking chairs near a blazing fireplace. The walls are lined with book after book. Whatever he may be, it does appear the Barons have been well educated. "Please, be comfortable. Would any of you desire a drink?" Baron Shergan asks.
Taking a seat, Redmane sinks into the cushions for a bit, and then asks, "Would you have fresh warm milk by any chance?"
"An unusual request," the Baron notes, "But I am sure that such can be obtained from the kitchen." He settles down into a chair near the fire. There he reaches over to a chord hanging from the wall. He gives it a light tug and a jingle of bells can be heard from elsewhere in the castle.
Thomas sis down heavily into one of the chairs, causing the cushion around him to inflate with air and look a bit ridiculous before they slowly deflate and return to normal. "Nothing for me, Baron, I am fine for now," he says.
Einsam ... well, he just goes and sits on the floor by the fire. He has an odd mix of a look, somewhere between glowering and sulking.
"It helps me to sleep," Redmane explains, as she gazes at the books nearest to her to try and get a feeling for the Baron's interests.
The titles are varied, indeed. Some are on history, some on battle strategy, some on poetry, to some even on arcane arts.
"Your library is most impressive, Adalric," Redmane says, using the Baron's name instead of title. "Your family must have amassed it over many generations."
"You mentioned a minor issue? Surely it cannot be that minor if it caught the attention of both of you," the Baron says as he sits back. "Forgive me for saying so, but I expected you both to be concerned on matters of great importance to the lands." The baron then nods at that. "They did. I know we are not a barony of any real importance, but that has never prevented my family from seeking new knowledge so that if one day we are called upon, we will be able to serve the Lord as well as any other." The use of his first name does earn Redmane a slight arch of his coal-black brows.
"Well, it is more of a personal matter, I suppose," Redmane admits, glancing towards Thomas. "To do with some old friends of ours we came to pay our respects to."
"You are aware of the cathedral of the fallen warriors of December near the borders of your charge?" Thomas now asks as he steeples his fingers together. His emerald-green eyes watch the Baron with interest and in the firelight, Redmane could swear that he looks just like the older Thomas that haunts her dreams now and then, down to even a faint shadow hinting at old scars along his neck.
"Yes, I am. We have always been honored that it was constructed near us and we have often taken the duty of protecting it," the Baron says with a short nod. "Has something happened there?"
"Yes," Einsam growls," Someone forced the gate and desecrated several of the graves. I have little love of fey, but disturbing the dead is abhorrent."
"Also not the sort of thing a common thief would do, unless he had someone ready to buy the relics and remains ahead of time," Redmane suggests. "Do you know of any local merchants or noblemen who collect such artifacts, Baron?"
The Baron's brow furrows, casting his eyes in shadow. "Desecrated? That is disturbing news, Countess," he says, his tone shifting to one laced with concern. "We have often had problems with merchants who liked to deal in goods of questionable origin. My men are often on the lookout for smugglers on the few roads. Last month we stopped several who were transporting, would you believe, casks of ancient dwarfish wine? That has been outlawed since the ancient wars with the dwarves, and yet ... hm. There are a few names I can think of that might deal is such ... things. Alresh 'The Shadow' comes to mind. A fey who deals in darker trades. He has often tried to sell me tomes of questionable lore, for example. I will have none of it, of course."
"What about any local witches or sorcerers who might have an interest in heroic remains?" Redmane asks.
"None that come to mind immediately. I can speak with my Captain of the Guard on the morrow if he has been hearing rumors of such as of late," the Baron says, "If I may ask, which tombs were damaged?"
"Sir Bravil of December was the one most important to us," Thomas says, "But there were at least five others."
"Bravil, Bravil ... that name is familiar to me," the Baron says and stands. He heads to his bookcase and slides slender fingers along the spines. When they reach a certain book, they tap on its spine before drawing it out. After leafing through it, he adds, "Ah, yes, Sir Bravil, chief Knight of the Lord of December some fifteen Years ago. Well known for having never been defeated in tourney, save for his felling by a mysterious green knight, later to become known as ... Redmane." The Baron can't help but look over the top of his book right at poor Redmane.
"He didn't take it as personally as the other knights did," Redmane notes. "He was a very kind and even-handed man. I do not like the thought of his bones ending up on display, or used in some ritual. December has been infiltrated by agents of The Year's End in the past, and there may yet be some lingering traces."
"Mm. He died in one of the battles concocted by the 'Jack of Heartes', the nemesis of one Lord Explorer," the Baron continues as he leafs a bit more, "Were it not for his holding of the final line against an army of orcs, December's men would have been over-run and thousands dead." The baron snaps the book shut and slips it back on the shelf. "I can see your .. anger at this. I do not like the idea of any hero of December being 'on display' either, Countess. I promise you my full attention in this matter. I will speak with my men tomorrow on this matter."
"Thank you, Baron Shergan," Redmane says with a smile of gratitude. "You do December proud."
Thomas glances towards the wooden door a few moments before there's a light rapping coming from the other side.
"Enter," the Baron states.
The door opens and through it steps a young, and perhaps the most gloomy, fey Redmane has ever met. Her skin is pale, almost white like the Baron's. Her hair, coal black and long, it practically trails to her waist. She's dressed in a solid black silk gown ... and to complete the theme, black ball-gown gloves are drawn up each of her arms. Even the lipstick and eye-shadow she wears is black.
Thomas' brow goes up slightly, as does Einsam's.
"Ah, Vrani," the Barn says with a smile and motions for her to enter. "Vrani, I would like you to meet our guests for this evening, the Lord Explorer, the Countess Redmane, and Einsam, a visiting wolf," Adalric says by way of introduction. "My honored guests, this is my daughter Vrani."
"A pleasure to meet you, young Lady," Redmane says, smiling to the gloomy looking girl.
"Mmm," goes the girl. "You aren't welcome here."
"Vrani!" the Baron snaps, "That is no way to speak to guests of the Crown. Or for any guest that I welcome here for that matter!"
"How old are you, Vrani?" Redmane asks the girl in a polite tone.
"I was born a little over a Year ago, Countess," Vrani answers and even curtsies towards Redmane. This seems to mollify the Baron somewhat, whom finally returns to his chair.
"I'm sorry if we're intruding on your home, Vrani," the Countess says. "Is there anything we can do to make it up to you?"
"Lea," Vrani starts to say, only to be interrupted by a loud cough from the Baron. "No, Countess," she amends.
"At least she is direct," Einsam rumbles. The wolf's movement actually startles the young girl, who takes a step back.
"I was raised to believe it is good for children to speak their minds... to their parents," Redmane notes. Inwardly she wonders if the girl just needs a pony. Ponies solve a lot.
"The kitchen staff have already retired for the evening, Father. I am answering the bell. Is there something required from the kitchen before I retire?" the grim child asks.
"Ah, yes, the Countess would like a glass of milk. Would you take one to her room when you head to bed? Our guests will be sleeping in chambers two and three next to yours tonight," the Baron says.
"I hope the do not snore," Vrani remarks.
"You should more be thankful we didn't dine on beans and cabbage tonight," Thomas, for whatever reason, seems compelled to say.
If looks could kill, the look Vrani is giving Thomas would incinerate the man.
"Rest assured, we are quiet as church-mice," Redmane says.
"I hate mice," Vrani mutters as she slips out of the room and closes the door behind her.
The Baron sighs. "Forgive my daughter. Her mother died during the terrible Winter and she has not seen eye to eye with me on many matters as of late. I fear this his her attempt at rebelling against me," he actually grumbles.
"And she still wears her garments of mourning?" Redmane asks.
"Indeed," the Baron says and then has to pause to stifle a yawn. "Forgive me, but the hour grows late and I should retire. Shall I escort you to your rooms?"
Standing, Redmane nods. "That seems prudent. We have a busy day ahead of us," she agrees.
Thomas, Einsam, and the Baron stand again. Thomas stretches as the Baron heads to the door and opens it. "After you, my friends," he says.
"I'm looking forward to sleeping in a bed again," Redmane comments as she leaves the library.
Thomas and Einsam follows. The trip is again short as it appears the bed chambers are on the ground floor. Thomas and the Wolf are directed into chamber '2', and Redmane is offered Chamber '3'. "Vrani sleeps in chamber 1 just down the hall, should you need anything during the night," the Baron tells Redmane as he once more takes her hand. "I sleep in the back tower for privacy, of course. I shall see you on the morrow, then. Do rest well, Countess." And, of course, the Baron kisses the back of her hand again.
"I approach sleep with the same verve as all of my endeavors, Baron," the Countess promises.
"Good eve to you then, Countess," th BAron says as his fingers slip from hers. The man then heads down the hall and is gone, leaving Redmane alone at her door.
Redmane takes a breath, and then opens the door. As is her habit when staying in castles, she searches for spy holes, secret doors and some way to lock the door from the inside.
The room is not grand, but it is well furnished. A 'king' sized bed adorns one wall, carved from mahogany if she had to guess. Not only that, but instead of just straw, the mattress is stuffed with soft cloth, down, and cotton, making it extremely soft and comfortable. There's a desk, a chest of drawers, and even a wash basin for her face. On a table near her bed sits her glass of milk, even. The search turns up nothing of immediate concern and the door does have a strong silver bar that can secure it from the inside in addition to the regular keyed lock. The light in this room comes from a brass lantern that hangs from a post sticking out of the wall just above the bed.
Noting the silver bar, Redmane has to wonder if it's partly to discourage wolves. Maybe bronze is more costly than silver in December though. She checks under the bed, of course, half expecting to find Thomas there.
There isn't even a dust bunny under the bed. The place is kept clean.
"Thomas will rag on me tomorrow for 'flirting' with the Baron, I'm sure," the woman notes quietly, then unsheaths Morrighan and sets the sword at the foot of the bed, just in case she missed a secret entrance. Then she turns down the lamp and changes into her nightshirt. While doing so, she listens, just in case the walls are somehow thin enough to transmit sound.
Alas, they are not. It appears that guest chambers have thicker walls than the sitting room did. Redmane cannot hear a single sound outside of any noise she makes.
"Well, might as well get some sleep then," she says, and turns down the bedclothes before getting in.
Wow. The bed is really comfortable. She sinks into it some as she settles. The sheets are clean and soft and the blankets ... well, those feel like luxury compared to the hard ground she has endured for the past several nights.
It takes a bit of effort, but Redmane does manage to sit up and drink her milk before turning out the lamp.. only then realizing that she didn't get directions to the privy. There just didn't seem to be an elegant way to ask the Baron about that...
The milk is cool and relaxing as it goes down. It was whole milk, too, something Redmane is very familiar with. As she sits there in the darkness, her entire body starts to tingle oddly then feel very heavy. In moments, she finds she can't even lift her arms. Somehow, the darkness seems to swirl around the knight, twisting and rolling in nausea. She feels herself slumping down in the bed, awareness of her surroundings fading away. Before her consciousness fails her, Redmane hears a soft female voice say, "I told you that you were not welcome here..."