“Sir Elrik Lafleur!” A man on a horse was galloping within the confines of Baron Dumontet’s castle. The vestments of the young man would clearly define him as being a messenger from another part of this kingdom. He seemed to have an urgent message to share with him, which wasn't a rare sight, given the battles still happening north of this barony. Elrik had been getting his mount ready for travel; he had heard news of his brother finally returning from the mage academy. He would arrive in a nearby town soon, so he wished to meet him there, even set up a banquet for his arrival. However, there seemed to be a change of plans, if the messenger was bringing forth a message of such urgency. He let the stable boys get his horse ready as he walked forth towards the galloping horse. “It is I. What seems to be the urgency of your presence, young man?” The knight had already donned his armor. “Speak quickly.” The young boy stopped the horse and jumped off bowing to the knight in question. “Sir! I send message of Sir Hartfield.” The name immediately struck the knight as he remembered fighting with him up north, defending the borders. It had been a little while since he had seen him. Elrik’s eyes opened in surprise, asking the boy to stand straight. As asked, he did so, reaching for the parchment on his belt and handed it over to Elrik. “You are dismissed.” Elrik said, letting the young boy return to his duties. The knight broke the seal to give it a thorough reading. This wasn’t written in Sir Hartfield’s hand, but that of a scribe; clean and professional. He took his time getting through this... And he found it quite odd. IT spoke about injuries at first. It was sad to hear he had taken such a beating. However, it was the request within this parchment that was the oddest; to take her daughter in to become a knight, just like he and his son. This was very short notice... There was much to be done! Yet, this was the wish of an incapacitated knight who wanted his legacy to go on. And the worse part, she is supposed to arrive this day... Seems the messenger wasn’t quite as fast as he needed to be. “...Stable boy.” Elrik said as he began walking back. “Prepare a second horse.” He’d have to figure out what to do with her... He didn’t even know if she was fit for this role, but he would have to discover it while on their journey. ------------Finally, he had arrived in the town of Llyne. Vesid had wandered away from the Order the last few weeks, hoping to escape part of his burden as a trainer for the new recruits. Yes, he enjoyed it, but he had taken such time out of his life to be an integral part of the Order that he had forgotten the lighter things in life. And so, he had decided to come see an old friend; a healer woman who had treated his wounds many times before... The older gentlemen heard she had taken permanent residence within this town. If he was lucky enough, these rumors would be true. If not, he’d have to continue searching. It took nearly minutes to get the answer; asking a few locals revealed that she was indeed here, in her own little home. The man thanked the stranger for his aid and went forth to the said building... And as customs dictates;, he came to the front door an knocked, hoping the information was true. ------------ The smashing of a window could be heard within the estate of the Lord who owned the town of Llyne. I sounded like something went through the glass and just shattered from the outside in. The first one who would be present would see that one of the hallway windows was broken on the second floor; with obvious footsteps disappearing into god knows where. This would have the guards warned of an unwanted presence, which had them on high alert and searching the grounds immediately. This would cause most activities within the estate to be delayed or stopped completely until it was deemed secure enough. Within one of the rooms in the servant’s quarters, a man in a dark cloak was leaning against the wall, definitely not belonging where he was; it was the room of a woman which this hooded man knew not of. In fact, he predicted whoever it was would be coming back to refuge... And he might have to do something that he doesn’t necessarily want to do, but will have to. He would wait until whoever lived in these quarters would return, and then he might strike. --------- “Yes, ladies, one at a time.” There he went again, talking of the stories of his latest steals on a rich noble. There was a lot of fluff and exaggerations, telling stories of how he vaulted across twenty feet of nothing under his feet, to snatching the purse without even being caught by the man... And, of course, how he saved a woman from death in the heads of a corrupted guard. This was a typical night for the charming Modakra. He did all he could to attract the attention of the prostitutes, then choosing and paying for whatever suits his tastes that night. Oddly enough, none of the beautiful elven ladies would even approach him, for reason even Modakra knew little of. The man was paying drinks all around for those he wished, letting them drink to their desires. It was to say; gold was not what he lacked. What he did lack was proper etiquettes, which he didn’t seem to be much of a fan of, especially since he was admittedly, a very lewd individual. No shame, no dignity, and yet, he seemed to be appreciated by most that were a lot more loose in their lifestyles... Probably why the elven prostitutes were always walking away from him.