Once More to Dunsany [ open ]

[Logen Wolfsbane]

    The Northman had dwelled in Sarkotos long enough in the company of the Heart. It was high time he headed back out on his search for the faces of his past. Friends that were as close as family to him that were left behind for the war effort in Alzorc. Logen had asked around about the names of a few and it was Sir Kythin Steelfang that stood out beyond others. He had grown quite the reputation, the Black Knight of Dunsany. That was problem when you're that well-known. People tend to gossip and collect information about you. Luckily enough for Logen, it made it easier to find Kythin.

    He was standing there in front of the Heart, double checking the leather straps and buckles that kept the saddle in place. Mik had already been brushed down and fed enough alfalfa to get him through the day. The horse had just gotten used to being pampered and was now going to be forced to the road again. That was the reason why Logen was double checking the tack job the stable hands had done. Upon inspection of the usual notches, either Mik had gotten fatter, or he had filled up his lungs whenever the boys had gone to set him up. This was remedied with a jab to Mik's ribs and a tightening of the belt.

    "Fat horse... Is that what you want to be?" The Northman set to pat Mik on the neck before tugging at his ears a few times.  His eyes looked up to the Inne, letting a few thoughts drift to and fro. He had all but just arrived and now he was leaving again. And without a chance to have a decent conversation with Maria, too. "We go to find Kythin, Mik. He owes us a race and maybe he has insight to Vi and Beaut."

    The long-faced beast turned it's head to look at the large man talking to him. It was always odd for him when the creature made noise at him. Though the man kept him fed and fixed up, he couldn't help but feel awkward when it tried to communicate.

    With one more side long glance towards the Inne, Logen stepped a foot into a stirrup and swung his other up and over to sit in the saddle. He pressed himself into a stand and then set his fist in between his crotch and the seat to test for proper leg elevation. Satisfied, Logen eased back down in to the saddle and adjusted the reins over the horn. He was ready to leave. Unless a distraction came out of nowhere.

[davkul]

Sarkotos proved to be of little interest to Davvy from the outset. Whereas the distant Vallen Slotte, a chateau owned by the Obsidian Heart as assuredly as the Inne, proved something much more akin to home for the native of the Grand Duchy. Besides it was high time he pay a visit to one rarely seen since the portal jump from the chateau in Kullyr to the vincinity of the Inne within one of the many districts that made up the city of Sarkotos.

Rare as sightings of Hellborne on the mainland of the continent of Tenebrus might be it made strangeness of them a good deal more peculiar when the horned, fiery eyed humanoid readied his own steed for the journey to his homeland .. solely due to an unwillingness to subject himself to the cost of the teleportation magics of Port Union. Thus the Traveler Plate clad wielder of firearm and saw-like saber set off in time enough to unknowingly match the pace of the other aiming to make towards the Duchy within which Dunsany hid within.

The locale of Old Dunsany and its Castle were not known to him .. though few matters involving the Kingdom of the late Hexenthal Dynasty was nor would he have chosen to associate with the revived incarnation if not for one sterling example in the form of a Squire not nearly as darkly clad as her Mentor; the Black Knight of Dunsany himself. What mattered for Davkul was reaching the eastern coast of Arith where the Old Castle was rumored to be found .. full of traitors among the smallfolk and Blood Knights alike with a smattering of disillusioned soldiers whom had survived the horrors of the Return of the Vampire King; Aaron Hexenthal, and then the coming of the Five Masters both put down by the Obsidian Heart .. the latter impaticular he heard rumors of being put to an end by the Black Knight and others of the organization he now called himself a member of as well.

How strange things had become since being murdered from a horde of fucking Skeletons under Kythin Steelfang's command.

[Logen Wolfsbane]

    How fortuitous for Davvy that he would chance upon one of the few that knew the location.

    Logen had been on the road for some time now. His body relaxed in to the saddle once he had been out of view of the city. He had finally found a peace that only wanderers could have. No one in front of him and no one behind him. That, of course, went out the window whenever another rider matched his gait at a crossroads. Immediately, Logen sat up more in his seat. The motion made Mik give a shake of his mane, wondering what the Northman was concerned about.

    His hood was not in use allowing those that passed or continued the ride next to him to see who he was. He turned his head to look towards the rider. His blue eyes measured and weighed Davvy for a moment or two. He didn't have the look of a Rumerian, but he'd fit the description for a man hunter. Then again, most anyone could fit the description these days. The slack in Mik's reins were drawn up, making for a very long whip on one side that could either reach the haunches of the war horse or strike someone that got too close for his liking.

    He decided he was not going to allow for silence any much longer. If the man was going to choose the same path that Logen was, he might as well gain some insight to the potential friend, or potential enemy for that matter. When he spoke, an acquired Zorcan accent fell from his lips in a deep, bellowing voice in the common tongue.

"What takes you down this path, rider?"

[davkul]

Those who would hunt men where great and varied to be sure .. though not varied enough to count the likes of this Hellborne among their number. The stranger may have spoken up though naught but his accent proved recognisable to the senses of the man seated upon his rented steed. While the horns could be hidden by clever use of hat or hood, the fiery, visually radiant eyes looking towards Logen to size up the speaker were not so easily disguised.

" Kullyr. Toward Home and the friend that can be found therein .. despite her choice of Lord. "

Elaboration certainly was not a forthcoming thing in these times. Particularly not with strangers with the accent of the Zorcan. A demonkin could not afford to see enemies everywhere, Zorcan or not, .. much as he could not afford to see all those claiming allegiance to Dunsany as enemies either.

" What say you, Stranger? What is your purpos down this path? "

[Logen Wolfsbane]

"The same... To Kullyr and then beyond." The Northman took note of the fierce eyes set in the man's head. He had seen too much in Arith to jump to any conclusions.

"I have friends and familiar faces to see once more before heading to the Skeggs." His hands still gripped on to the length of leather that was the reins of the bit, though the demeanor he kept was nonchalant. The further north they would travel the more likely the wanted posters would start showing up. He figured now was a good time as any to let the rider next to him know.

"The name's Logen." If the man was familiar with Rumerian law enforcement, he'd put the name and the face together. If not, then he'd be in for a surprise whenever the trouble got thicker. "I'm heading around the Ballaris to follow the coast. The long road seems to be rampant with trouble these days."

[davkul]

Not altogether strange to find another aiming to reach Kullyr on this road in particular. Truly he thought nothing of it at all. While the mention of the Skeggs proved interesting enough .. knowing very little of the other side of the continent meant there was little to take from the tidbit.

" How much do you know of Kullyr? Few travel save to Rood since the Wintercrest Rebellion in the south of the Duchy and the presence of brigands along the coast. "

While he knew as much as other Kullyrians about Dunsany .. the subject of those who aligned themselves with the returned Dunsany without a Hexenthal at its reigns was a difficult one to grasp onto when those filling the ranks were seemingly traitors to the Duchy or far stranger .. foreigners. The latter did cross his mind in considering Logen even as he shared that name.

" Davkul. "

[Logen Wolfsbane]

    Davkul. The name would be set to memory as his mind repeated it. His mind would then set to his memory of Kullyr, the only knowledge he had would be his experience. The skirmishes against the undead hordes, the giant beast slain and then the infiltration of Hexenthal's castle. Of course, his mind would go to Violeta and Kythin and even Daemian and Mira. The group serving the Heart had grown together and bonded even through acts of aggression and even full blown confrontation.

    Logen's eyes went to the road in front of him as he spoke of his account with Dunsany.

    "I'm afraid my knowledge of the land is focused. My time spent there was only business of the Heart. The last time I was there was when we ended Hexenthal's reign and freed those under his dominance." The scene playing through his head was the encounter of the vampiric officers and then the confrontation against Kythin and finally against Aaron himself.

    "It is to Dunsany that I am heading." Logen turned his head to look towards Davkul to gauge his reaction.

[Kythin Steelfang]

No proper road led to the old Castle in the region of the Grand Duchy ruled over officially by the Markiss and Markissina of Coastal Kullyr, and unofficially by the woman a growing number called the rightful Queen of Dunsany; Magdelana Moretti , Hexenthal's Widow. Those who occupied Castle Dunsany in their Queen's name operated under the authority of the Black Knight .. a man that was not currently to be seen within any corner of the Duchy. As it stood the last several months saw the castle stewarded by its Steward - one Sir Birtel ven da Rettig , the Scion of a major family long struggling to improve their position within Rood and the Duchy as a whole.

Sir Birtel knew all too well how full his metaphorical hands were in directing the minute forces of Dunsany in protecting the semi-nomadic folks that saw fit to linger near the castle .. all too obviously due to its relative safety. A safety that was left tenous due to the increasing knowledge outside their walls and the halls of the Duke in Rood of a revived, so to speak, Dunsany.

The more of a threat the forces of the Duke made of themselves , the more Birtel found the need, however reluctantly, to call upon the wealth of his aging Father. Certainly with mercenaries under their command much could be done to begin to slow reclamation of the coast, least such was what Birtel had in mind. Already the missive was on its way to Count Valter's hands when news of more travelers nearing their lands .. a fact found its investigating delegated to scouts rather than trained soldiers, few as they were .. knowledge gained proved much more useful than aggression towards yet more strangers on horseback.

[Logen Wolfsbane]

    Logen could see the camp fires ahead in the distance. The smoke trails sending sign of civilization. He was grateful that the trip had no instance of aggression or danger. It was probably one of the longest trips he'd taken on horseback without an event. The fact of the matter made it to where silence was carried more than conversation between the hell-born and the man from the north.

    "Not long now, perhaps a half hour until we arrive at Hexenthal's home." Logen didn't know if the castle itself was named anything other than that. He hadn't stayed up on current affairs or whether Kythin had renamed the place or even if the Queen did. It's just what he knew the place as.

    The salt on the wind served a few scented memories of his travels, sparking to thought a few encounters but nothing focused upon. He would then glance around at their surroundings as the feeling of being watched fell upon him. "A half hour at this pace, anyways..."

    "C'mon Mik!" The Northman clicked his tongue twice in a sharp manner and then set his heels to spur the calvary horse on the haunches. Immediately the horse took off in to a galloped pace across the countryside in the direction of the old castle.

[davkul]

Davkul grimaced , for like many Kullyrians that lived through the return of Aaron Hexenthal as the self-proclaimed Vampire King did not take well to the mention of the last dynasty of the dead Kingdom. Such a mention did not set the Hellborne to on any unexpected path of anger or to blows. The former soldier did not come this way for reasons of vengeance after all.

" Castle Dunsany with its budding deluded populace and fervent soldiers all under the banner of their Queen while the Black and the Bloodied Knight both hold the true reigns. "

Or so was how the view from the outside had come to be seen since the relatively cold war between the Grand Duchy and the Resurgency continued with clashing nobility seeking to take advantage of both sides all the while.

Davvy with his borrowed steed could not help but to join the advancing Northmen the rest of the way.

[Kythin Steelfang]

With their orders given by Sir Birtel, the Bloodied Knight, the scouts did indeed set out. As one would expect without the much feared presence of the Black Knight alternatives were required to make use of the absent man's infamy. Thus set out alongside those scouts as their only spokesperson, after all scouts were expected to not make their presence too obvious, was the notorious Knight's own Squire. 

She could make her own introductions of course .. 

In the meantime the far stealthier and cunning scouts of the kingdom intended to keep an eye on the pair that advanced on horseback. How unfortunate they were not clad in crimson as the knights of the Blood of Kullyr would be .. truly it made tracking them quite the simple task. The same certainly could not be said of Logen and Davkul despite racing towards the most obvious signs of civilization on horseback as they were at that very moment. 

" Should we wait for Dame von Ascheberg to engage them? " 


" ... Squire Ascheberg. She's not been knighted yet. " 

Odds were the conversation would have continued much like that if not for the need to get on with their work. 

[Dame Lovisa von Ascheberg]

The young woman the scouts referred to was sat atop her own mount and squinting into the distance, straining to see the riders that they had reported before they were atop them entire though they were still too far away for visual confirmation. Dressed simply, shirt beneath jerkin above breeches spoke of dulled colours suited for practicality rather than vanity, though it could be argued that her unnaturally brilliant red hair was colour enough for all occasions and anything added to it would just be garish. Her only ornamentation lay in a shining brooch pinned above her heart, that those familiar with the Black Knight would recognize as a design similar to his own folding plate. It held its own slight differences, but its presence was the only reason why the squire was not obviously clad in full armor at this time: in any moment that could easily be remedied with a brief touch, but for the mean while she did not give her mount any added weight to strain its capabilities.

''I see .. thank you.''

She dismissed the particular scout - Anders, was it? - who had delivered her information regarding the riders after hesitating for a moment, still not entirely comfortable with the role that she had found herself in, but it certainly beat languishing in the depths of the castle with naught to do but re-read dusty old strategic manuals or attack wooden mannequins. Yes, sparring with her mentor was an option, but the differences in their skill levels was so vast that it was not worth the time nor effort, she benefited only from observing him do combat with another of his own worth. And as there were precious few who fell under that description it did not happen as often as she'd like. There was simply not much one could learn from a massacre.

A sideways glance was made to the gossiping libertine scouts, though far enough away was she that she could not pick up their words clearly it nevertheless encouraged a small crease in her brow: it was clear that she still had to prove herself to the Resurgence. Being taken under Kythin's wing had done much, but it was not enough on its own, she needed to amass a reputation that was solely hers.

''Tch.''

A touch of her heels to the dark steed loaned to her encouraged it to move forward, Lovisa set on riding to meet partway with the scouted riders before they could further encroach on this territory. Within easy reach were her bastard sword and the mournlode heavy shield, so while an outside observer might only spy a seemingly delicate maiden ripe for the takings, closer examination by those wary enough should hopefully forestall any scuffles before they even began. The horse took the squire across the landscape at an easy pace, and it would not seem like long before she was in view of the travelers as they came up the slight incline, the other scouts that had been with her likely melting into the scenery and taking up positions favourable for archery, while one or two remained several paces behind the squire to act as visual confirmation that there were more present than this young woman. Whether their numbers outweighed the skills of the travelers was uncertain, but if things went well they would not need to find out.

''Good day, travelers.''

Her voice carried with it the strength of a drill sergeants call, a light breeze playing at unrestrained locks and dabbling at her horses mane as she gradually came to a stop; one gloved hand clutching the reigns tightly as the other rested atop the pommel of her sword. Her eyes were not quite hard as they regarded the pair as they drew closer, but there was a suspicion held within their depths. And how could they not? At any time a band of Kullyrian soldiers could descend upon them with the intent of wiping them out completely .. base appearance alone was not enough to remove the possibility that these two were an advance of the same.

At least, until they got a little closer, and she recognized the Hellborne with a start, mixed feelings rising to the surface unbidden.

Of course, that minor physical twitch was all he was getting for the moment, her expression soon regaining its formal caste as her full attention turned to Logen.

''What is your business in these parts?''

[Logen Wolfsbane]

    It was never a good sign when they sent riders out to meet you rather than greet you at the door. Something had given them cause to be over suspicious or on the offensive. Especially when it was just two riders approaching. It was something to ponder on later if questions weren't answered sufficiently. For now, Logen did the respectful thing and pulled back on the reins commanding the war horse to ease it's charge in to a slower gait until coming to stop when the squire did. Logen and Mik remained just out of a sword's swing in distance by means of positioning. The cavalry horse was steered to stand perpendicular to the direction he was once heading.

    With the right side of his body shown towards the Squire, all she would gather by sight was a tattooed arm and hand as the set was held nonchalantly at his side. His clothes weren't anything fancy, either. A few blood stains and hints of mud and even a hole or two. His eyes were cold, accented by the artic hue that brightened and dulled with his attitude. That was only from the effect from levels of blood pressure. His beard was scruffy, where there wasn't a scar and his hair appeared as if there were never a real attempt to tame it, sans the leather tie that held half of it in a pony tail to keep it from his face.

    It would be the scars and the emerald-set pommel that revealed he was a swordsman. The Righteous Bastard rested on his left hip so that all that could be seen was the over-sized handle, clad in black leather all the way to the uncanny glowing gem at the pommel. If she were so inclined to visit Rumeria or had knowledge of that land, the face would be recognized as one shown upon wanted posters. The Northman was wanted as a "war criminal" for taking part in the Alzorc/Rumeria War.

"My business is my own." Logen answered shortly with a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He wasn't one that cared about odds. Or courtesy for that matter. The voice that replied had a hint of Zorcan, assimilated from the years spent with the Named Men.

    The only grace would be for Kythin, though. He didn't want to make things difficult on him. And so he went ahead and expanded on his statement before a reply could be had...

"I'm here to see an old friend named Kythin..." The Northman gave a slight tilt of his head and a squint of his eye reading in to the reaction he'd get from the statement. "He was calling Dunsany home before I went to war in the North and now that I've returned, well, it'd be nice to see a familiar face.."

[davkul]

Lovisa making an appearance put a bit of a smile on the Hellborne's rugged visage. The short-lived expression of plainly mixed-feelings were not missed either. Davkul glanced at his companion of convience when the Squire turned her focus unto him. A glance that caused Davvy to allow his smile to falter at a certain significant admission.

" You're a friend of the Black Knight? "

One golden brow rose at the revelation made mention by the Northman himself. Not that it changed much. Davkul understood he could not hold much of a moral high-ground when he knew the Black Knight's own Squire as he did .. didn't make for a good argument at all. A handful of seconds later did Davvy silently regret those words .. particularly when he glanced over the others that came along with Lovisa.

Well wouldn't do to be the first stranger off'd with Lovisa seemingly in command now would it?

" ..Suppose you came to the right place. "

[Kythin Steelfang]

Proclaiming oneself as a 'friend' of the Black Knight did happen to be quite unheard of .. certainly no Kullyrian prior to the defeat of Pedur, a potent Vindicator of an Unknown God and vicious Nercromancer .. not to mention the last of the Five Masters that sought to bring ruin to the world of mortals and the living. After the elf's defeat at the hands of the prolific Black Knight and a powerful Psionicist claiming Allegiance with the Obsidian Heart .. a few moderates allowed their stance to change. All the more as an increasing number of the nobility , though still quite small in number, began to favor a restored Kingdom of Dunsany rather than the reign of the Lofgren Grand Dukes. 

Still to call such a man a friend .. it seemed mighty strange indeed. 

... if not for a rather simple thing. 

" .... Hey now .. isn't that one on one of the Knight's paintings in the throne room? ... Yea.. with the gypsy girl. Bit more scarred but.. has to be hasnt he? " 

One of the scouts was rather sure of himself to say the least. 

[Dame Lovisa von Ascheberg]

Lovisa had no experience with Rumeria, it was only recently that she had travelled outside of Doxenia after all, the extent of which having been Dunsany: and by extension, Kullyr. As such she wouldn't be the person to recognize Rumerian war criminals unless they had grown so zealous for the man's capture that they had spread information beyond the Rumerian borders. Or Kythin had mentioned it in passing. In this instance however he had not, and were it not for the scout's muttering behind her she would have readily challenged his assertion regarding his relationship to her mentor. As it was, she was hard pressed to prevent the look of obvious doubt that crossed her features, brows scrunching up in the middle as she examined this cocky man, her own voice a little flat, though it did not question his statement.

''...Really.''

Really? Kythin Steelfang? Friends?

It was somewhat hard to believe, given that she didn't think her mentor actually liked anyone. She thought he tolerated her at best - as he did most others he didn't actively hate, which weren't many – because while he was full of useful advice when it pertained to her advancement, had given her a roof over her head, steady meals, tasks to complete, responsibilities to uphold, even furnished her with a horse, it wasn't as if they often sat around the fire discussing likes, dislikes, dreams, kittens .. whatever it was that she thought friends would talk about. Lovisa didn't have much experience in that matter to pull from either, actually. But that was neither here nor there at the moment.

''Regardless. Sir Steelfang is not available at this time. Sir Birtel is in residence, and were it for matters official I would advise that you speak with him, but perhaps he would not fulfil your requirement for a familiar face?''

The woman offered up a half shrug, her tone holding something of an apology, though she did not elaborate on the where’s or whys of Kythin's absence seeing as she could not verify whether this man could be trusted: anyone could wander up and declare themselves an old friend (though, how many had paintings of themselves in his throne room?), and while he was more than capable of taking care of himself, perhaps sending undeclared enemies after him on his travels would not be such a good idea. It might spoil his holiday.

Or it might improve it.

[Logen Wolfsbane]

    Birtel was a name he didn't recognize. Logen wasn't current on the nobles of any country really, sans those in absolute charge. Or Kissekatt. Whenever he received the news and then option, his facial features sunk. Just my luck. A portion of the inside of his right cheek was gathered between teeth to be gnawed upon in a display of slight agitation while he thought on the matter.

    "Well...." Finally he spoke up. "...shit."

    Hands gathered the reins and made their adjustments to ride once more rather than maintain close control. A smirk was delivered towards Lovisa before his attention turned over to Davkul. The smirk on his face never faded thoughout his address to the Hellborn.

    "It seems my reason for being here is absent and so here we part ways." The artic hues then turned back towards Lovisa as the smirk faded from his jaw line. "If you would, whenever he returns, let him know Logen Wolfsbane showed up, seeking an audience. I'll be heading to Rood and then shooting North if he asks." The Northman was going to need to re-up on supplies for his journey to Skeggs, hopefully running in to the Jongleur on his way.

At first, Logen pulled Mik to turn right towards the shoreline, but it was only to round about turn, remaining in front of Lovisa, keeping her between him and Hexenthal Castle, simply out of respect for the warden. Back to the west he would lead Mik, heading towards Kullyr proper and the city of Rood.

[Kythin Steelfang]

Things were not so unfortunate that the absent Black Knight would remain so for too much longer. A handful of days passed the lot of them by before a winged form soared above the castle. After circling a time or two the beast and its knightly burden did come to land close to the castle. As he was prepared only to see how Dunsany fared .. Kythin was met with a good deal to take in between the messages left for him and Birtel speaking of many a recent events.

" ... Enough Birtel you are dismissed.. just .. see to directing any visitors my way if its important. "

[Dame Lovisa von Ascheberg]

At the time of the meeting she had merely nodded to Logan, assuring that she would pass on the message as soon as she were able. After Logen had left goodness only knows what had taken place; whether she had spent time with Davkul or if the Hellborn had chosen to push on to his own home was kept between themselves, and the time after that had been spent in the only ways she was familiar with.

Lovisa was parked at a table within the reading room when word came of Kythin's return, books and parchment strewn haphazardly across the surface while a notebook was filled with a tight scrawl, the woman transferring useful pieces of information to the formerly blank pages. Strategies, tactics, fighting styles, battles. She did not see herself as leadership material, but she filled her head with the knowledge anyway to complement her physical practices and give herself a better chance of survival on the field. It was bothersome work that often made her eyes hurt and her head nod if she had been at it for too long, but she sought the advice of those greater than herself and hoped that someday it would prove useful.

Of course, as vital as her work may have been that did not mean she would pass up the opportunity for a short break, marking her place and tidying up the table a little before she sought out her mentor. A deferential greeting was given to Birtel as they passed each other by in the hall, the squire waiting a moment or two before knocking on the doorway of the room he had just exited, peering in after she had been granted permission to enter.

''Sir Steelfang.''

She saluted respectfully before relaxing a little, looking over him curiously. Birtel had likely informed him of every little detail during his absence, from the movements of the Blood Knights to that of a mouse sneezing in the pantry, so she would not begin disgorging information unless expressly told to.

''Enjoyable trip?''

[Logen Wolfsbane]

    On the horizon the Northman was seen on approach. Something had brought him back to Dunsany Proper from the northern borders of Kullyr. Upon the back of Mik, Logen led another horse by the lead rope behind him. Hands and feet bound and eyes blinded by cloth, the Rumerian emissary remained the captured prisoner of the Bastard.

    No doubt the scouts had already reported back to reach the ears of Magdalena and by proxy, the Knight and Squire.

Crossbow and alike would find their way trained upon the approaching mountain of a man, though Logen wouldn't have cared even if he noticed. He had a package to deliver, come Hell or high water. Word passed faster than Mik's gait, so if they wanted to turn him away before he came knocking at their gates, the window was open.

-----------------

    Seemingly, the Northman went un-impeded to the front door. The men at gates set eyes upon Logen, knowing the face from the artwork of the Black Knight and only stopped him for confirmation.

"Find Bertel or Kythin.." Notice the lack of Sir there. "I've brought someone for them to meet." Of course he was speaking of the unconscious man hog-tied on the smaller Standard. Another spur of his heel set Mik back in to it's pace in to the bailey and in the direction of the stables. It was there he'd wait for either one.

[Kythin Steelfang]

" Lengthy and filled with more nuisances than I would have cared for. " 

He took note of the woman, his Squire with only the briefest of acknowledgements. Least before thinking to issue a question. 


" All has been well I trust? Birtel has informed me of the mysterious situation involving the family estate of the Coastal Markiss. We will have to look into it before the Duke sees fit to place blame on enemies closer to home. Its a matter you and the Hellborne would be fit to investigate. " 

Perhaps there would have been more to discuss if not for the arrival of Sir Birtel. While the discussion was brief Kythin motioned for Lovisa to follow them out to their eventual arrival near the stables. 

--------------------
Birtel was a far more likely find than the Black Knight. The Blood Traitor , the name applied by Loyalists to the Duke, had come to a position of power within Dunsany as the Steward in place of the Queen's own selection that came in the form of Kythin Steelfang. Powerful as the Black Knight might be what the man lacked was being native to Kullyr a matter of great importance commoners and nobility alike.

Sir Birtel had his hands full of late with the matter of securing coastal with the forces of the Wintercrest Rebellion. They had lose Wintercrest to its Baron and the Duchy forcing their relocation to the coastal region. The rebels , human and ogre-bloods alike, had seized both the trade routes with regular patrols and the docks within their influence.

Despite such a busy enviroment for the Resurgency it seemed both its leaders could be found within the castle. Logen earned the sight for himself when both the blue-black armour clad Sir Steelfang along Birtel clad in the armour of the Blood of Kullyr .. easily confused with the enemy were it not for the heraldy of the Resurgency emblazoned on his breast plate and shield alike. Yes, Wolfsbane received the attention of important people though it was Birtel that involved himself.

" You bring us a prisoner then? He does not bear the features of Kullyr .. "

[Logen Wolfsbane]

    "His name is Sascha Bolshakov..." Logen spoke to Birtel simply before turning to grab the unconscious man up by his coat. He had gone about loosening the ropes that bound the man to the horse before the Blood Knight arrived. With a pull of his arms, the man was tossed to the ground, landing in an area of the stable where it had yet to be mucked. The impact would elicit a groan of pain from the Rumerian, followed by an assortment of coughs as the air was removed from his lungs. Eyes set down on the man in a deadly stare before Logen delivered a quick boot to the man's short ribs.

    "He is a Rumerian emissary I found being escorted by some of the Blood of Kullyr." The Northman had done a bit of clean up, but the blood of his enemies still lingered in the cracks of weathered flesh and cuts of toned muscles in arms and forearms. Attention then returned to Birtel, eyes gazing down on the man. "And in my experience, where the Rumerians involve themselves, only trouble can follow. I suggest you entertain him with questions."

    Logen would then reach down and collect the man by his coat collar, lifting him up on to his feet. A study of the Rumerian's face revealed battered flesh, swollen from assault and covered in horse shit. His eyes had been swollen shut and no doubt his ears were ringing. Logen's left hand came around to support Sascha by grip of his throat, setting to squeeze that iron grip. The action making the man step up on to his tippy toes as if yearning to reach an elevation to allow him to breathe once more. "If you're not interested, I can just kill him now..."

There was a look of joyful pleasure on Logen's face. The Northman watched the struggle in the assaulted face of the emissary. A wolfish grin, fang beared and maniacal, formed over the slayer's visage. Could the Rumerian survive long enough for Birtel to reply?

[Dame Lovisa von Ascheberg]

''Release the prisoner.''

The words came not long after the Northman had proceeded to grip the Rumerian by the throat, a voice moving alongside his almost crazed words that came in the wake of Sascha's struggling elevation.

''You have delivered him into Dunsany custody, your part is now done.''

Moving forward, the squire intercepted Logen's field of vision with a steady unblinking red gaze and relaxed defensive stance, a hand hovering within touching distance of her folding plate brooch, the statement that she delivered she clearly believed was indisputable.

Something about Lovisa von Ascheberg throughout her life had made her a perfect target. If one were to think of it perhaps many have taken umbrage at the color of her hair, her gender, her attitude, her station and lack thereof. And in many cases that is quite correct (some people don't need the nudge), but the full truth is that pulsing from her body is a subtle psionic force powered by the dragons blood gifted to her by a distant ruby ancestor that takes hold of the object of her attention and forces them to shift their focus of aggression onto herself. She is blatantly unaware of this fact and is thus unable to consciously control it, she just knows that whenever she has challenged another person, they have without fail accepted, though others may reconsider after the initial strike. The pull doesn't always hold them for the long term, but it never fails to get them moving to begin with.

Logen would find himself releasing the prisoner before any permanent damage was done, whether he wanted to or otherwise, and would find a better target in Lovisa.

She had remained silent when the prisoner had received his licks after being thrown to the floor, but she drew the line when it came to the slaughter of one deemed helpless and in their custody. Her Code would not allow it, and so she had spoken out regardless of what Birtel or Kythin's own wishes might be. For now though she had to contend with the Northman's initial burst of aggression, before he regained his senses if indeed he did, and she was certainly prepared for a beating. Its what she did.

[ skill use: incite to anger ]

[Kythin Steelfang]

Kythin watched the scene unfold along with Sir Birtel. The Black Knight possessed a very simple reason for not interfering physically. There would be little gained for his Squire if his interference came early on.

A factor like that meant a good deal when conflict was exactly what led to evolving in skill and personality both. Little to be gained through interrupting now. The verbal options were a good deal more acessible as well as varied as such things were like to be.

" You would never hinder others on the path to a Rumerian defeat. Too much time spent among those like Fenris I wager. Its in your voice. I imagine you most of all would desire a shattered Rumeria. "

He paused, naturally, to see if the Northman and his Squire were finished with their disagreement or if it would transcend towards something more physical.

" A Rumerian Emissary in the wake of talk about Fenris, that damned bard, and A'kana slaughtering one of the Duchy's noble families down to the last. Man, woman, and child. There is a far greater picture to this and Mister Bolshakov will be happy to illuminate the mystery of Rumerian involvement I am certain. "

Dan'zeran torture techniques would do well in making even the most relunctant sing.

[Logen Wolfsbane]

    Squire. She carried the voice of authority of the peerage, yet hadn't earned the unadorned chain or received the last unanswered blow. The Northman's hand fell away from the Rumerian's throat, yet still held him up by the scruff of his coat. His attention and anger turned towards Lovisa as his lips curled into another grin, this time begrudged and set more as the warning.

"That's right..."

    A surge of strength in that right arm sent the limp man through the air in a toss. The body thrown at such a velocity that the Squire would either have the choice to try and catch the man or let him fall once more in to a harder surface. Truly his intention was to draw her focus on something else while the Northman approached in aggression.

    His approach was inhumane in speed. Much, much quicker than before the war. He moved with such celerity that Kythin wouldn't have blinked once before the Northman loomed over Lovisa like a bear ready to crush it's quarry. Eyes of the predator stared down at the girl from near a foot above. Something dark lingered in the man, something that drove fear in to the heart's of those opposed him.

"Don't make the mistake to demand from me again."

[CM: Warlord's Gaze DC 35 Intimidation Save: Lose Turn Effect, Group 4 NPCS[3 PCS]

[Kythin Steelfang]

How quickly things could escalate even with friends in attendance .. some might well have known better than to read into only the surface of the situation. Whether Kythin could have intervened before the intimidating action on Logen's part .. did not factor in if he would have bothered doing such a thing.

Evolution did not come from your hand being held through trials.

Little did this keep his visage from taking on a scowl as lips shifted their way into a scowl. A gruff rendition of a growl sounded alongside the typing of what must have been claws tapping against metal.

The Black Knight's remaining unphased by the display was not something Birtel shared in. The charismatic Kullyrian Knight proved a more than a touch taken aback. Not for the first time .. for much the same had been witnessed once upon a time when Kythin himself saw fit to make the Blood Traitor cower.

What mattered .. was that neither came to Lovisa's aid in however Logen might be dealt with.

" I grow impatient, old Friend, we have much to discuss .. and a guest to question. "

[Dame Lovisa von Ascheberg]

The surprise that welled up within the woman was not sourced from the sudden flash of animosity the Northman seemed to hold for her; that was perfectly normal, and in fact expected, given that she had just challenged his right to strangle the prisoner he had dragged into the castle. No, the surprise stemmed from the fact that the aforementioned prisoner had just been bodily flung at her. Her stance shifted to account for the impact, arms rising in an attempt to catch the man before he did either of them any harm with his sudden flight, her boots scraping against the stables floor as his weight pushed them back. Only her familiarity with a shield bash prevented her from falling completely on her arse, though her stability was momentarily displaced as she fought to regain her bearings and juggle the prisoner to a form of uprightness when Logen was suddenly right in front of her.

His speed was less than her sometime sparring partner, and also that of Kythin's himself, and so would not catch her off guard. The aura he gave off almost reminded her of her mentor in his human shape (which was to say nothing of his draconic), and her experience with such [fearless skill] allowed her to keep whatever she may have been feeling from rising to the surface, though she did not move a muscle until he broke the connection of his own will, thereby releasing her and allowing her to move again. Once broken, she finished righting the prisoners stance in silence, taking hold of his shackles and giving him a tug towards the stables exit.

''I will relocate him to a cell, far more suitable for his questioning.''

Moving past Logen, Kythin and Birtel, she paused a moment with a short scowl. Yes, she was merely a Squire, but the fact remained that she was of Dunsany, and had a legitimate place within its pecking order, so she lifted her head and stared at the Northman with a level gaze.

''And you, do not presume yourself Dunsany's executioner until Sir Steelfang commands it.''

That said, she had no further argument with the others, and would so do as she originally declared: drag the prisoner to the Dunsany cells, where he would be suitably accommodated for whatever else might be in store for him. If he were to be executed, it would be in a manner that was fitting to the law of the land, and certainly not in the stables.

[Logen Wolfsbane]

    There might have been a time where Logen would have considered joining the peerage and donning the chains of the bureaucratic soldier. Earn his spurs and receive the final unanswered strike. It was times like these that reassured him it was one of the looniest ideas he had. The gaze leveled and followed after the Squire as she made her way with his captive. There was no quip or smart remark to be sent after the youth. If she wanted the last word, he'd let her have it. What good would it be anyways?

    When she was gone from sight, Logen then turned his gaze towards the Black Knight. Features slowly faded from threatening to a cool calm. Gaze shifted from Ky to Birty for a long moment before returning back to his old friend. "You're right. There is much to discuss, past and present." Words stated in solid agreement. Fingers of both hands curled inward to form fists. The white-knuckled grip releasing a bravado of pops and cracks as fluid was released from ligaments in respite of pressure loosed.

    But of the future? Would there be a conversation on that? Thoughts had gone towards that topic already... Calculated and militaristic, the Northman had progressed into a lord of war in his time spent in the shadows of the Knockskulls. To not try to place himself twenty steps ahead would be harmful idleness... At least, possibly. "You want to talk here or elsewhere..?" He figured the latter.