[WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart

[-Sentinel-]

"Esther's other suitor. Reinhardt Anhame, joined the Graf's knights when she turned him down for Ricard."

Pieter tried to think of something to say to that, but all he managed was: "...Ranald's teeth."

"I hit him, and he said he accepted my challenge. He's a Talberg. What's old Mils Verloren going to do, make it so it never happened?" He lowered his head into his hands. "He said he would lend me one of his pistols, tomorrow at dawn. I've never fired a pistol in my life."

The initiate's amused smile vanished. "Oh. You do have a bit of a problem. You don't think you can talk him out of it? And just leaving is out of the question?" His mind was racing. Though he did his best to look grave, he found the whole situation tremendously interesting.


OOC: About now would be a good time for some insight from my fellow PCs.

[Another_Poet]

Master Sigurd Waite

Sigurd brightened. "Ah!" he exclaims. "Are she and Mrs. Lauf the only women employed here?"

((assuming yes))

"Splendid! There was a young woman who helped me in town and I didn't have a chance to give her my thanks. She said she had to get back to the manor. Could I please meet this Miss Rosa?"

He indicates the stairs. "If you'll send for her I'll meet her upstairs in a moment."

Once Gundred is gone he quickly sets about poking for hidden doors and loose stones. After a short search he heads up to meet them.

* * * * *

Anyone:

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Once back upstairs he returns to the hall where he met Lord Verloren, or else follows the sounds of voices. When he meets Rosa he will great her warmly.

"Young Miss!" he says with a warm smile. Positioning himself so that the others can't see his face, he gives her a knowing wink. "If you hadn't come by when you did, I don't know what would have happened..."

He turns back to Mrs. Lauf or whoever else is present. "I had left Indigo outside and some boys started riling her up. She's a well trained dog but when they started poking her with sticks, well, it got her blood up. If she had jumped on one of them...."

He shakes his head. "Luckily your Rosa here saw what was happening and had the virtue to say something. She dressed those boys down and had Indi in a congenial mood before I could even get outside!"

He turns to the young lady and presents her with a silver schilling. "From Indigo any myself, young Miss, with our thanks. I hope we didn't keep you too long from your duties."

LCP only:

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Hope I didn't assume too much here, adjust as needed and I can edit. I'm trying to move things along so I don't hold back the others - I'm already hours behind them :)

Sigurd watches Indigo carefully for an indication that this is the woman she saw last night.

[LCP]

Not Sigurd

“Leave,” repeated Leopold. “There’s a thought.”

He swallowed, sighed, and turned his tankard upside-down. “I came back here to beg from the old man. That’s the truth of it, and there’s precious little chance of him giving me anything now, not after I’ve frittered his first allowance away in ‘questionable company’.” The young man could do an unnervingly accurate impression of his father’s voice. “I suppose if I run, he can disown me and wrap the whole thing up cleanly. Ricard’s the son he paid for.”

He looked Pieter in the eyes. “I’ve been away from Hohlesbruck for...” – his counting skills, addled as they were, betrayed him – “years, now. Seen Altdorf and Marienburg, and met a lot of dishonest men. Been one myself, depending on who you ask. And I don’t like Ricard Talberg. He reminds me of me.” He shook his head, looking down at the table and mumbling his words. “It was low what he did to Esther. Alexa’s never been difficult to fool, and you can feed my father anything if you flatter his pride. Third son of the Talberg house, not like to inherit... and there’s gold in the Faulebrand name now, gold that you wouldn’t find in Verloren Manor, for all their pedigree. He didn’t make anything of himself during the war. How’s Ricard Talberg’s allowance looking, do you think?”

He looked up at Pieter with bleary red eyes. “You tell me, Pieter Hagen. What ought I to do?”

[hr]

Sigurd

Sigurd brightened. "Ah!" he exclaims. "Are she and Mrs. Lauf the only women employed here?"

With a dull look in his eyes, Gundred began counting on his fingers, speaking in the same morose monotone as before.

“There’s me, and Mrs Lauf, and there was Gerard the butler, but he’s gone now, another job for old Gundred. We got Milly from the village up once a week to help with preserving for the pantry. Helga and Heidrun, they help out when the master has guests. Then there’s Farlich the groundskeeper, he looks after the stables too, and Rodrik the boot-boy, and Ottalyn the scullery maid. Then there’s Rosa.”

"Splendid! There was a young woman who helped me in town and I didn't have a chance to give her my thanks. She said she had to get back to the manor. Could I please meet this Miss Rosa?"

Gundred blinked slowly, like a stubborn donkey refusing to cross a stream.

“But we don’t know where she’s got to, sir,” he said. “That’s why Mrs Lauf is cross.”

OOC:

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Don't worry about holding back the others; as far as I'm concerned, the reading that Sigurd did is enough of an arbitrary time-sponge that I can bring you back together whenever.

[-Sentinel-]

“You tell me, Pieter Hagen. What ought I to do?”

"Think about your sister, Leopold," Pieter advised. "How is Alexa going to react when she learns her brother got himself killed or crippled fighting her husband-to-be in a duel? See, when you get right down to it, Talberg is the only one in Hohlesbruck who wants this duel. Let him call you a coward. What's he going to do about it, eh? Your life's surely worth more than your reputation. You're not a Bretonnian."

He sipped his ale. "If you put enough of an effort in it, you can do well without your allowance. Your father's a self-made man himself, I gather... unlike Talberg, who has nothing but his name. They're both living proof that birth means little. All you need is wit and most of all will. Never forget." He glanced at the young man's tankard. "But right now, you don't look like someone with an awful lot of will, if I may be blunt."

[Another_Poet]

Master Sigurd Waite

“There’s me, and Mrs Lauf, and there was Gerard the butler, but he’s gone now, another job for old Gundred. We got Milly from the village up once a week to help with preserving for the pantry. Helga and Heidrun, they help out when the master has guests. Then there’s Farlich the groundskeeper, he looks after the stables too, and Rodrik the boot-boy, and Ottalyn the scullery maid. Then there’s Rosa... But we don’t know where she’s got to, sir. That’s why Mrs Lauf is cross.”

Sigurd frowns with concern. "I didn't realize his Lordship had such a large staff. I wonder if it was one of the other women who helped me. I didn't get a name. Were Milly, Helga or Heidrun here yesterday evening?"

((assuming no))

"Then might I meet Ottalyn? I wonder if it was her."

((If I am taken to Ottalyn, I will apologize and explain it wasn't her who helped get the boys away from Indigo. "Must have been Rosa. A shame she's missing... do you think she's alright?"

And of course, still send Gundred ahead so I can check for loose stones or hidden doors.))

LCP only:

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Again, still a ruse to see if Indigo recognises the woman from last night.

Regarding timeline, based on what you'd said before it's still light out in Sigurd's time splice. If it's OK I'd like to keep it that way; I still want to run one more errand before meeting the others, which is why I'm trying to hurry for their OOC convenience :)

[LCP]

Not Sigurd

“Hunh. You sound like a priest.”

Leopold’s red-rimmed eyes drifted to the door. “Apologise to my brother-in-law.” He hiccupped. “To be. There’s a bitter pill.”

He stood suddenly, swaying a little as one careless hand knocked over the empty tankard he had been toying with.

“I’ll do it now.”

[hr]

Sigurd

"I didn't realize his Lordship had such a large staff. I wonder if it was one of the other women who helped me. I didn't get a name. Were Milly, Helga or Heidrun here yesterday evening?"

“Used to be a lot bigger sir, back in the day. This is a big old house.” He shook his head. “No, none of them three, ‘least as far as I know. Like I said, they only do odd hours now.”

"Then might I meet Ottalyn? I wonder if it was her."

“Right you are, sir,” said Gundred, sounding just as enthusiastic as before. Lifting the candle, he led the way back up the cellar steps.

Ottalyn was to be found towards the back of the quiet servants’ quarters, folding linen in a cluttered old laundry room. No more than fifteen years old, the girl reminded Sigurd strikingly of a dormouse – she turned with a squeak as she heard them behind her, stepping back from Indigo with an unsuppressable hint of nervousness in the large dog’s presence.

“This is a guest of the master’s, Ottie,” said Gundred, as Indigo began to snuffle around the floor of the laundry room of her own volition. “Wondered if he’d met you down in t’ village.”

“I don’t think so,” said Ottalyn, in a voice as small as she was. Indigo bounded past her back to Sigurd’s side, looking up at her master in anticipation of wherever they were going next.

Sigurd apologised, confirming that Ottalyn had not been the girl he’d met. "Must have been Rosa. A shame she's missing... do you think she's alright?"

“She’ll be fine, mister,” said Gundred, wearily. “Probably havin’ the time of her life down in the village, while old Gundred does all the work. As usual.”

[-Sentinel-]

“Hunh. You sound like a priest.”

"Do I? Sorry," said Pieter, sincerely. He usually did his best to sound wise and reasonable without getting self-righteous, but was not sure he succeeded at it.

Leopold’s red-rimmed eyes drifted to the door. “Apologise to my brother-in-law.” He hiccupped. “To be. There’s a bitter pill.” He stood suddenly, swaying a little as one careless hand knocked over the empty tankard he had been toying with. “I’ll do it now.”

"It's better for everyone," said Pieter approvingly. "Mention your sister if he won't listen to reason. Good luck." He raised his tankard in a toast and drained the remaining ale.


OOC: I'll pause here to let the others catch up. I'm feeling as if Poet and I are the only ones playing...

[Another_Poet]

Master Sigurd Waite

Retro Time Splice:
OOC for anyone:

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Not sure if you caught it, but Sigurd had planned to send Gundred ahead upstairs and take a moment to look for loose stones or hidden doors. Any luck?

Present Time Splice:
Sigurd nods at Gundred's confidence about Rosa. He turns to Ottalyn. "My mistake, Miss. Pardon me for interrupting your work."

Looking back at Gundred he takes on a heartfelt tone. "I can't express how grateful I am for the Lord's welcome today, and for the whole household's help in my research. You're all so welcoming. I'm sure it's nearly supper time, so I'll leave his Lordship to dine in peace, but I hope I can give him and Miss Verloren my thanks personally. If they aren't busy, do you think I might be able to see them to say my farewell?"

[LCP]

Sigurd

“The master usually takes off to Henrik’s study when he’s left to hisself,” said Gundred. “This way, sir.”

The weary old servant led Sigurd back to the stone hall, but hesitated at the foot of the stairs. “Mrs Lauf won’t like it if you take the dog upstairs, sir,” he said, with a tone of petty fear. “Mrs Lauf is very particular about the carpets.”

OOC:

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Sigurd found nothing – sorry, guess I should have said that explicitly.

[Another_Poet]

Master Sigurd Waite

Sigurd hesitates in his own right. His face looks hurt. He claps his hands against his thighs and Indigo stands up on her hind legs, so that the merchant can hold on to her paws like they're going to waltz.

"Her paws are clean, you see," he says matter-of-factly. "And she is certainly housebroken or there'd already have been a problem."

He looks back at Gundred authoritatively. "Indigo really shouldn't be left on her own. She comes with me."

Indigo lands lightly back on all fours and stares at Gundred, nearly at his own eye level.

[LCP]

Sigurd

Gundred looked doubtful – but a cautious man like the cook wasn’t about to gainsay the lord’s guest.

“Alright, then,” he said, grudgingly. “This way, Mr Waite.”

Up the stairs they went, past the large portrait of Mils Verloren and his late wife, and along a dark, oak-panelled corridor. Henrik’s study was towards the back of the upper floor, in the western wing of the building: just as Gundred had predicted, they found the lord of the manor there, seated in a high-backed chair before a heavy desk. The desk itself looked like a valuable antique, but one that had not seen a coat of varnish in too long: a large tome was laid open on its surface, its pages traced with the intricate heraldry-bearing branches of some old family tree.

“Your guest wanted to give his respects on leavin’, m’lord,” said Gundred deferentially. He stepped back to allow Sigurd the priority.

“Mr Waite,” said the nobleman, turning in his chair. “You found what you were looking for, I hope?”

[Another_Poet]

Master Sigurd Waite

Sigurd bows again as he enters, hat in his hand.

"Your Lordship has been most gracious," he says. "It's been a delightful day--I've taken many notes from the histories. Ah! One had me curious, do you know what's meant by 'the Incidente of the Remarkable Danse?'"

((tag))

"Ah, I see. Hmm..." Sigurd looks thoughtful. "My Lord, I wonder. You seem to be very reverent toward your ancestors, and rightly so. I know it's getting late today, but perhaps another afternoon you'd be willing to show me the crypt? I'm sure you've many more stories to tell of the men and women buried there."

((tag))

"I shall take my leave then, Lord Verloren, but before I do - I had truly hoped to meet your daughter as well. It seems rude to call on you and not meet the whole family, such as it is. I've heard Miss Esther has a quick wit, a quality which always warms this old man's heart."

Sigurd makes sure to keep nothing but friendly warmth in his voice; he's asking as a (potential) friend of the family. Whether Mils assumes any amorous interest is up to his Lordship.

He lets Indigo wait in doorway of the room, all the better to run toward any sound of the daughter should she be about.

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

Illiiya approached Pieter after the distraught young man had left, looking idly at him as he went.

You're a good man Pieter... but you can't help with every problem. She said with a weary look, Come sit with us and eat? I feel like I've hardly seen you since we got to town.

[-Sentinel-]

You're a good man Pieter... but you can't help with every problem.

The initiate smiled. "That's not an excuse to stop trying, is it?"

Come sit with us and eat? I feel like I've hardly seen you since we got to town.

"Gladly."

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

Illiiya sat again, this time with the ranaldite joining her, glad to finally have time to rest. For a few moment she picked at her food in awkward silence before finally she gathered speech again.

So what do we do now? In truth, I feel somewhat rudderless. She admitted with a soft sigh, Like we should have moved on by now, but we are held back.

[LCP]

Sigurd

"Your Lordship has been most gracious," he says. "It's been a delightful day--I've taken many notes from the histories. Ah! One had me curious, do you know what's meant by 'the Incidente of the Remarkable Danse?'"

Mils Verloren blinked politely. “Um, I’m afraid not. Something you found in the records? Some of my family chroniclers have been a little opaque, I’m afraid.”

"Ah, I see. Hmm..." Sigurd looks thoughtful. "My Lord, I wonder. You seem to be very reverent toward your ancestors, and rightly so. I know it's getting late today, but perhaps another afternoon you'd be willing to show me the crypt? I'm sure you've many more stories to tell of the men and women buried there."

Mils looked surprised. “Well... I’m sure.... yes, that would be no difficulty.”

"I shall take my leave then, Lord Verloren, but before I do - I had truly hoped to meet your daughter as well. It seems rude to call on you and not meet the whole family, such as it is. I've heard Miss Esther has a quick wit, a quality which always warms this old man's heart."

“Mm. From whom?” said his host, frowning. Sigurd sensed he was on thorny ground, though the cause did not seem clear. “Well, she can decide for herself. Gundred, will you ask my daughter if she will see our guest?”

Gundred tugged his forelock, and retreated from sight. After a short while, he came panting back.

“She says she’ll see you, Mr Waite,” he said, oscillating between Sigurd and Mils. “M’lord,” he added, retrospectively unsure of who to address.

“Well then,” said Mils, “you had best go, Mr Waite. Gundred, go with him. He will need someone to show him the way.”

Esther’s room was up a narrow flight of stairs, twisted in on itself at a right-angled bend. It was wide enough for only one person to pass at a time: Gundred went up ahead of Sigurd and his dog, Indigo having some difficulty on the steep stone steps. Thinking back to what he had seen of the manor from the outside, Sigurd guessed that this had to be the tower he had seen, half-submerged in the stonework of the old house’s facade.

On the other side of the painted door at the top of the stairs was a spacious room – the view from its latticed windows confirmed Sigurd’s suppositions. The chamber was furnished sparsely and austerely, but what furniture it had looked like it might be several times Sigurd’s own age. Whether that made it antique or simply superannuated rubbish, he was not qualified to judge.

Esther Verloren was sitting on a bench built into the inside of the windowledge, looking out over the treetops that screened the village below. As Gundred pushed the door open, she looked round. She had put on a veil of gauze that blurred her features, giving Sigurd only the vague impression of indistinct marks on a round, white face.

“Mr Waite,” said Gundred, “Mistress Verloren. Mistress Verloren, Mr Waite.”

Indigo snuffled past him, nose to the floorboards. The big dog had clearly smelt something that caught her interest, but paid little attention to the woman at the windowsill.

“Mr Waite,” said Esther, politely. “You are visiting my father? We seem to have a lot of visitors in Hohlesbruck at the moment.”

[hr]

Not Sigurd

Doing his best to keep his steps straight, Leopold had already left – Wulli the innkeeper watched him go with a concerned expression.

Bringing Pieter his food, he glanced back towards the door.

“Here, Mr Hagen,” he said, “not meaning to interrupt... but what did you say to him?”

[-Sentinel-]

So what do we do now? In truth, I feel somewhat rudderless. She admitted with a soft sigh, Like we should have moved on by now, but we are held back.

"We're still supposed to investigate the matter of the dead bandits, remember. We didn't promise anything, of course, but it's just unprofessional to leave in the middle of a job."

But even Pieter had to admit this was only an excuse. Something else held him here... possibly curiosity, and the vague suspicion that there was more happening around him than it seemed.

“Here, Mr Hagen,” he said, “not meaning to interrupt... but what did you say to him?”

"The Faulebrand kid got in trouble with Ricard Talberg," answered Pieter dismissively. "I told him to set things straight before they turn ugly."

[Another_Poet]

Master Sigurd Waite

Sigurd gives a slight bow. "Miss Verloren," he returns. "Hmm... do you mean those mercenaries in town? Have you seen much of them?"

((tag))

"Your father has been most generous with his time and letting me review the histories here. I felt it would be rude to leave without meeting you... and I'm glad I did. You seem like a well-mannered young lady, if you don't mind my saying so."

He pauses as Indigo sniffs around. "Please don't mind the dog. This is Indigo--she keeps me safe from bandits when I'm poking around in old tombs."

There's a twinkle in his eye as he says this; clearly it's his passion. He watches her reaction closely to see if it intrigues her, or if she seems disapproving.

[LCP]

Not Sigurd

Wulli gave an uncomfortable frown.

"What, to apologise, like?" He glanced awkwardly towards the door. "Young lad's had a lot to drink. You sure that's a good idea?"

[hr]

Sigurd

"Hmm... do you mean those mercenaries in town? Have you seen much of them?"

"They came to speak to father about the trouble on the road," said Esther. "I saw them then."

"Your father has been most generous with his time and letting me review the histories here. I felt it would be rude to leave without meeting you... and I'm glad I did. You seem like a well-mannered young lady, if you don't mind my saying so."

He pauses as Indigo sniffs around. "Please don't mind the dog. This is Indigo--she keeps me safe from bandits when I'm poking around in old tombs."

"I hope you don't think our house is an old tomb, Mr Waite." She spoke with the intonation of a joke, but her levity was all form and politeness. "I imagine if you are a... historian, this place must be terribly interesting."

There was a faint smile from beneath the veil.

"I am pleased to have met you too, Mr Waite. Is there something in particular you wanted to ask, or was it only this?"

[-Sentinel-]

"What, to apologise, like?" He glanced awkwardly towards the door. "Young lad's had a lot to drink. You sure that's a good idea?"

Pieter paused to consider it. "He, um, seems to love his sister. I'm sure he wouldn't do anything to cause her grief." But the innkeeper's worry cast doubt in Pieter's mind. "You locals must know the lad better than I do. Tell me honestly, do you think he could try something stupid?" he asked, shifting his weight as if to rise from his chair.

[Another_Poet]

Master Sigurd Waite

Sigurd smiles and gives a light laugh at her joke.

"No, the house is amazing," he assures her. His purpose here is complete, but to avoid rudeness he decides to chat a bit. And who knows, maybe she grew up devouring stories about the woods.

"There is something I had hoped to ask you," he begins. "I'm asking as many of the people around here as possible. What do you know of the mounds in the forest? And the Heartless Man? I'm hoping to go out and see his grave tomorrow."

Sigurd lets her tell her own version, and finds out if she knows which mound is the tomb; when they're done talking, he thanks her again and tells her how wonderful it was to meet her.

After saying his farewell to the Verlorens he will depart the estate. With a glance up at the darkening sunset, he hurries to his next destination.

* * * * *

LCP only:

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Assuming Esther didn't give an exact description of which mound is the dead king's, Sigurd goes to see Mother Yilese for the third time in two days. The expression on his face tells her it'll be worth her time.

[LCP]

What do you know of the mounds in the forest? And the Heartless Man? I'm hoping to go out and see his grave tomorrow."

“I... don’t know much, I’m afraid,” said Esther. “I heard the story as a child, I suppose... I’m not sure how well I could remember it.” She smiled apologetically. “Going to see his grave? I didn’t think it was a real place.”

Though never straying from the model of politeness, Sigurd could tell that the conversation wasn’t filling her with enthusiasm. There was something withdrawn about the young Miss Verloren – like her father, she seemed to find her dignity in a quiet resignation. Even the room, in its lonely tower, seemed to reinforce the image, like a princess’ prison in some Reikland fairytale.

If Sleeping Beauty had been left to grow old and ugly, thought a treacherous part of Sigurd’s hindbrain. He knew well enough that for the daughters of nobles, their life’s work lay in making a good match – what chance was there for Esther now, the pox-scarred daughter of an impoverished country lord? Her looks had been her only fortune, and her father’s too – the young woman who sat before him now was as ruined as any Marienburg merchant whose ship had gone down. Spinsterhood and poverty beckoned with the same bony hand, and all Esther Verloren could do was face them with breeding and composure.

She returned his farewells graciously, all the same. Taking his leave, Sigurd followed Gundred as the cook insisted on showing him to the door - the servant didn’t seem too keen on this stranger spending too much time with his master’s daughter. Leaving the creaking old manor behind, he set off down the hill, towards the village once more.

Sigurd Only

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By the time Sigurd reached the village square, sunset was clinging on by its fingernails. He had been a long time with Lord Verloren’s chronicles – longer, perhaps, than he’d planned.

There were lights in the windows of the Heartless Man, but Sigurd passed them by, heading back towards the narrow forest path that led to Yilese’s hovel even as the last light died in the west. His boots crunched on dry twigs and leaf litter as Indigo trotted at his side, the trees stretching out their darkened branches overhead. He put his faith in his companion’s keen senses, and did his best to forget all the stories he had heard of the Drakwald forest as an owl hooted somewhere in the gathering dusk.

A thin wisp of smoke was curling from the chimney of Yilese’s hovel as he arrived, white against the dark. Approaching the door to knock, he stopped as he felt something squish under his boot. Looking down, he saw the yellow viscera of a particularly fat slug, smeared across the earth where he had trodden it underfoot. When he looked up again, the door was open, Mother Yilese standing framed in a rectangle of orange firelight.

“Mister Waite,” she said, neither welcoming nor forbidding – it sounded like nothing more than an observation. “You’re going to wear out the path, with all this to-in’ and fro-in’.”

OOC: I assume you want this stuff spoilered? Just following suit from your own post.

[hr]

Not Sigurd

Wulli shook his head.

“Master Leopold left Hohlesbruck when he was fifteen, sir, went to seek his fortune in the city. How’s I to know how he might have changed?” He wrung his hands. “He were always... headstrong, though. As a boy.”

Seating himself beside the two of them with a mug of ale in his hand, Lothar looked up at Pieter’s face.

"Nice work, Mr Hagen,” he said, only barely suppressing a grin.

[-Sentinel-]

"Thanks, Mr Fischer," said Pieter absent-mindedly, now truly worried. "Um, maybe I should just... keep an eye on the young man and... make sure he doesn't go in there with a weapon or something. He's not thinking clearly."

Leaving his meal unfinished, he rose from his stool and strode out of the inn.


OOC:

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I'll follow Leopold from a distance, moving casually rather than stealthily. I'll try to see if he's armed and if his body language betrays his intentions.

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

Poor kid...

We've no reason to care about this.

Illiiya looked torn for a moment, staring vacantly into her food, before she stood from the table as well, giving a soft sigh and looking to Lothar and Ith.

I'll be back soon... I... I'm going to go with Pieter. She said, hastily grabbing a bit of bread from the table as she went. He might listen more to a woman.

She followed Pieter out the door, hustling to catch up, until she was close enough to take his shoulder.

Pieter, wait. I'll... um... I wish to come as well. She said shyly, eyes downcast. If that does not bother you. You can't solve every problem... alone.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter blinked at Illiiya with obvious surprise. It was the first time he saw her (or, really, any of the Elves) show concern for strangers.

"No, that doesn't bother me at all." He slowed down to allow the small woman to follow, and spoke to her in a low voice. "We won't act unless the lad seems about to do something stupid. Understood?"

The initiate did not have a plan in mind. He would have to make it up on the fly.

[Another_Poet]

Master Sigurd Waite

LCP only:

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((Yep, spoilered please... you'll see in a moment ))

Sigurd instinctively takes a half-step back. Her sudden greeting took him rather by surprise. He likes surprises, but only when he's the one doing the surprising.

"Ah, Mother Yilese," he says, tipping his hat. "May I come in?"

Assuming she is agreeable, he steps inside and makes sure Indigo comes in as well. He takes his seat on one of the crude stools and holds his walking-stick with both hands.

"I'm afraid I haven't much more information about any poisonings," he lies. "I came because I've given some thought to your request from this morning."

He watches her carefully.

"You said you'd would like to know why I'm really here. Well, my situation has changed a bit, you see."

He stretches so as to pop his back, then absently scratches Indigo's ear.

"I did get a guide to take me to the mounds. We'll travel by daylight and return before nightftall. I've also employed those mercenaries from town. But I have them for only one day, you see."

He meets her eye. "That means that my purpose in the woods must be completed in a single day. Which means I must know exactly which mound to go to. So I have a proposal."

He tilts his head.

"I'll tell you the truth of why I'm visiting, and if you approve of it, you'll tell me which mound the old king is buried in. Does that seem fair?"

[LCP]

Sigurd

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Yilese’s face darkened.

“Already got yourself a guide,” she said, barely deigning to acknowledge that Sigurd’s offer had been made. “That’d be Hans Suster?”

[hr]

Not Sigurd

Lothar rose with them as they turned for the door. Outside, night was setting in properly – there was a chill in the air, Mannslieb riding high behind a veil of cloud.

Leopold was not hard to find. He was hammering at the door of his father’s grand house, shouting for someone to let him in. As Pieter watched, the door opened – the woman he had taken for Aloysius Faulebrand’s wife looked out.

“Leopold,” she said, her voice a pleading murmur. “You’ll wake your father...”

“It’s not my father I want to see,” stated Leopold, loudly. He tried to squeeze past his mother – she put out an arm to block him.

“TALBERG!” he yelled, his voice cracking. “Ricard Talberg! Come down here!”

[Another_Poet]

Master Sigurd Waite

LCP only:

Spoiler

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Sigurd doesn't say anything, since she already knows the answer. He assumes his silence passes for a 'yes.' He waits for what she'll say next.

[LCP]

Sigurd

Spoiler

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"Well, Mr Waite, seems to me you've already decided you're much too clever to need the advice of an old woman. I gave it to you once, I don't see that I should give it again." Mother Yilese was cold and unyielding, like a bar of iron. "Door's over there."

[-Sentinel-]

"Ranald's teeth."

With a deep sigh, Pieter walked faster. "Leopold," he called, "you sure you don't need some sleep? I think he'll be more inclined to discuss tomorrow, when you're sober. But... if you really want to deal with this tonight, at least let us help you. We're good at persuasion." He kept his voice calm, even friendly, but Lothar's intimidating presence was eloquent enough. "No one wants trouble, eh?"