Re: The next evening...

[Marcabru]

"This day of rest has certainly gone far in ridding me of my travel fatigue. I trust you are recovering as well?"

"Indeed I am, milady," the troubadour replied. "Although I must admit that the smooth ride obtained on Storm's broad back is unequivocally superior to the buffeting one must suffer in the confines of a carriage. 'Struth, it is nothing short of criminal, the conditions which travelers must endure en route." The howling came again, tinged with... something... something otherworldly and evil. Marcabru shook his head. "I feel a strange foreboding anent that wolfsong. 'Tis times like this that I regret my limitations in mindspeak. I should feel more at ease in my mind to know just who and where those singers are." He smiled thinly. "Perhaps 'at ease' is not quite the term I seek. 'Settled,' perhaps, in that I should have occasion to make the necessary preparations for a confrontation, should such be required."

[Mirzan]

"Looking for it once dark has fallen is wise, though? I mean, we don't know these woods at all, for one. We can wander it tomorrow. Though I still think it'd be easier simply asking Nopalo if he has some of what you need already, and where to find the rest. He'd probably be able to tell you where in the woods to look for what and save a lot of time and pointless hunting." Mirzan shrugged and sighed. "Besides which, you're not well right now unlike when you're usually getting this stuff. Fix yourself first before you try to fix others, or you'll be useless when they need you most."

The distant howls made the mercenary prick up his ears and he grimaced, trying to suppress a shudder at the second batch of calls, the more eerie ones. He hugged her a bit closer and smiled wryly.

"Just as well. No way you want to chance meeting those alone in an unfamiliar forest. And sick, to boot? Absolutely not. That's not just asking for trouble, that's begging for it."

[Terhon the BlackSilver]

Terhon was wandering the woods at dusk, much as the vampires were. He, too, scented blood on the wind, but he was occupied draining the life from some smaller game, mainly birds. Guessing that others might prefer the remains not be wasted, he limited his slaughter to a mere handful, and collected the carcasses to bring back.

<I am eating already,> he sent to Shayori and Sihlus. <I will bring you the leftovers. They appear to be... pheasant?> Not that he cared the species of bird. All were just as edible to him. A bird was a bird, right?

[Naitachel]

Despite the howls in the woods, dusk brought the sound of hooves and carriage wheels to the Inn. A coach arrived with a beautifully matched team of four pulling it accompanied by a massive warhorse and a rider to match. With them came an entourage of about twenty men in chain-mail and armor, bearing crossbows with silver-tipped arrows and lances, professional soldiers who moved their steeds with brisk efficiency to guard both coach and rider. The whole group pulled up without any fanfare, one guard hopping off his horse immediately to take the massive charger's bridle as the coachman dismounted to open the door for the passenger within.

Heavy boots stomped up to the front door, and a heavy hand carefully swung it open so as not to damage anything, the giant rider holding it open for the coach's fair occupant...

"Master Nopalo, my man!" Lord General Duke Haymar Sartoshi bellowed cheerfully, handing the pretty woman inside courteously. "Two rooms and some floor space with wash-up, if you will! And some of your famous dinner to boot! Can't leave Lady Saffron to face the night's lurkers, after all!"

He was requesting places for himself and the lady separately, plus room in the common room for his men to bed down and have what best access he could get for them for washing up in the main baths.

The General is 7' tall, a giant of a man, with large strong hands and a burly, powerful, muscular build fit to rival a true giant's--which hasn't changed despite his age, as he keeps himself active and regularly practices fighting. His face is ruggedly handsome and oval in shape, his jaw square and stubborn, with grey-green eyes and busy brows, his longish hair a golden brown and usually sporting a beard that lends him a lupine or leonine air. He moves with a heavy-handed ease, the smooth grace of a well-practiced and limber fighter combined with the carefully controlled strength of a strong man conscious of his own power (physical and otherwise). For such a large man, he's agile and faster than any would expect, especially as he usually tends to move with the lazy grace of a lion most of the time. He had on his usual mithril chain-mail and black leather armor, his glaive slung across his back still.

An elegant woman of class, Saffron stands about 5-foot-5-inches tall, with a slender figure that enhances the beauty of her favorable endowments. Her waist-long blonde hair has hints of red highlights within its soft waves, with tendrils that frame a heart-shaped face, slim lines of eyebrows, full rosy lips, long dark lashes, and playfully intelligent green eyes. She carries herself with a graceful, dignified, and genial air, confident in herself and her place in the world. Her voice is cultured, soft, and pleasantly low and husky. She had on a plain green dress and sleeveless robe of yellow with green embroidery, a martin fur lined cloak over all.

[Nopalo]

"Master Nopalo, my man!" Lord General Duke Haymar Sartoshi bellowed cheerfully, handing the pretty woman inside courteously. "Two rooms and some floor space with wash-up, if you will! And some of your famous dinner to boot! Can't leave Lady Saffron to face the night's lurkers, after all!"

Nopalo's hearty laugh preceded him across the room as he stumped over to greet the newcomers. "Good evenin' to ye, General, an' t' you as well, m'lady... Saffron, was it? Welcome to Nopalo's place." Standing together, the two men were an amusing sight. The General topped Nopalo's height by a good 18 inches, while the rotund innkeeper was at least a foot more around the middle. Nevertheless, they were virtually equal in girth and length of arm. "Two rooms, is it? Aye, well, we can be takin' care o' that with no trouble, M'lord, an' as for yer men, we've been doin' a bit o' remodelin' since yer last visit. We've a dormit'ry, now, off to th' side o' the kitchen, with plenty o' room for yer rowdies t' doss down, an' a bathin' area in one corner. It may not be as comfortable as their barracks, but I'd be wagerin' th' meals are better."

He beckoned Molly over from her place behind the registration desk. "Molly, lass, would ye be takin' the Lady Saffron an' showin' her room 28? 'Tis one o' th' finest in th' house, M'lady; I've no doubt ye'll be pleased with it." As the two women moved away, Nopalo turned to the General with a sly smile. "You'll be in yer usual room, M'lord, right next to hers. There's a connectin' door, should th' lady be afraid in th' night an' need comfortin'." Although the General was not exactly a frequent visitor to the inn, he had stopped there enough for the rotund innkeeper to be aware of his habits and preferences. "I do hope ye'll not be leavin' without a friendly bout o' arm-wrestlin', General. I'm thinkin' I might... just might, mind ye... be able t' best ye this time."

[Soraya]

"Make that three rooms, if you would, Mr. Nopalo," another voice chimed in from behind the General and Saffron.

Captain Eddard Aldric Beightol was frequently to be seen at the General's side, one of his trusted officers as well as his protege. He was also from a wealthy family, and used to the privileges that came with it. As a higher ranking officer and son of a nobleman, he always took advantages of his station, such as renting a room away from the rest of the troops, in the lap of luxury.

He came to stand next to General Sartoshi and winked at Molly knowingly, giving both her and Saffron his winningest smile in the process. Any response either Molly or Nopalo might have had for him was quickly cut off, however.

As he had entered, Eddard had peered around the room, as he always did, for potential, "prey," though he hadn't expected much from the inn. Had the General not already laid a proverbial flag upon Saffron, he would have been on the hunt with her, but he respected the boundaries set by his mentor. Instead he would throw in his lot with whoever was at the inn, though travelers hardly fell on his eye. Those he enjoyed the most here were usually the maids.... and yet this evening it seemed he had struck gold.

"Well, hello there," he smiled, the very picture of suave, as he strode toward the two beauties in the corner. True, they were with a man, but whoever he was, he certainly couldn't be claiming them both, now could he?

"My name is Eddard Aldric Beightol, son of Duke Jonath Beightol," he smiled as he took first Soraya's hand and kissed it, then repeated the feat with Naitachel. "At your service. Pray, tell me, whom are these two visions before me?" he asked, smiling sideways at Marcabru.

[Soraya]

The arrival of the newcomers wasn't lost on Soraya. Particularly the arrival of the beautiful blonde woman around whom someone such as herself couldn't help but feel diminished. It wasn't just the woman's looks, but her demeanor as well that was intimidating, and the redhead found herself unconsciously standing up straighter and pushing her shoulders back further.

Soraya had been so focused on Saffron that she hadn't noticed the tall blond man approaching until he had begun his introductions. She was so stunned by his forwardness and surety that she found herself unable to actually react as he kissed first her hand, then the seraph's next to her. Still, despite his obvious refine and self-confidence, or perhaps it was because of it, she realized that his lingering lips on her as well as his intent stare made her skin crawl. She shuddered to try to clear the shivers as his attention turned to Naitachel before he asked for their own introductions.

"I am Soraya," she managed at his query as she blushed. She wasn't quite sure how else to answer, though she certainly thought he was overstating things by calling her a vision. She saw no one else nearby to whom he could have been referring, however, and thought it best to answer for fear of appearing rude to someone who was obviously a man of importance.

[Marcabru]

"My name is Eddard Aldric Beightol, son of Duke Jonath Beightol," he smiled as he took first Soraya's hand and kissed it, then repeated the feat with Naitachel. "At your service. Pray, tell me, whom are these two visions before me?" he asked, smiling sideways at Marcabru.

The troubadour rose with a slight bow. "Marcabru l'Droit du Signeur, minister without portfolio and chief advisor to her Sovereign Majesty Estrellita, Empress of the Twelve Worlds. Formerly bard-lyricist to Korkovan, ghan of the Golden Horde. Past Grand Master of the Knights of the Invisible Grail. A teller of tales and singer of songs, and occasionally a sword-arm when needed. I give you greeting, M’lord. My companions are Messer Naitachel and Milady Soraya. They are members of the Prince Family entourage.”

He did not like the looks of this one at all. The general he could relate to, a complete hedonist who made no attempt to hide it, who enjoyed the passions of life with a gusto equal to his lust for his vocation. This captain, however, gave off a slightly greasy aura, nothing obvious, but the faint impression of a spoiled soul, one not to be trusted. Marcabru wondered what Sihlus would make of him, or Rowanna.

[Prince]

"Sorry, but I hope you don't mind me asking you to step forward and present yourself, you being a stranger to these parts. And I prefer we talk like normal folk--my strengths aren't my telepathy but in other areas. I take it you're a guest of Mister Nopalo's establishment, or you wouldn't be on that side of his marker. You're lucky, though--that entitles you to what's in neutral territory." The brown-haired man quirked a wry smile. "Otherwise, you'd find slim pickings, too. The recent battle was enough to drive the game insane with fear, so they scattered and fled. I hate to say, but our brethren aren't much better right now."

The smile fell, and the injured vampire ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, eyes pained. Something about him oozed a profound sadness; some big tragedy hurt more than his minor and currently-healing wounds.

Minhea stepped forward, bowing slightly. "We are, indeed, guests of Master Nopalo. I am called Minhea, of the house of Prince. My kin and I are newly arrived." The look of sadness and loss was not missed by the younger Prince as he stepped forward to assist the stranger. "Let us see you to your injuries, friend, and perhaps you can tell me your tale of woe. Your sadness is much like a tangible thing lurking about you."

[Nopalo]

"Make that three rooms, if you would, Mr. Nopalo," another voice chimed in from behind the General and Saffron.

"Indeed we shall, Captain, and welcome to ye," replied the innkeeper. "Molly'll be settin' ye up in one of our finest rooms." Sotto voce to Molly, he said, "Best be puttin' him at th' other end o' the hall from the servants' stairs. We've already got one o' the maids wearin' her apron strings a bit shorter since his last visit."

Molly gave Nopalo a sly grin. "Maybe I'll just put him next to my room. He won't bother the girls." Her grin broadened. "He won't have to."

Nopalo's belly-shaking laugh turned every head in the room to look at him. "Ah, Molly, Molly, There's not another like ye." More quietly: "Just don't kill th' lad; we'll be wantin' his custom again."

"Why, Mr. Nopalo, whatever do you mean?" she replied archly, turning with a swish of skirts and heading for the front desk. She crossed the room smoothly, with just the hint of a twitch below the large bow at the small of her back.

[Naitachel]

Lady Saffron had smiled at the General, Eddard, and Nopalo, then followed Molly to room 28, and the General had followed to see to his own rooms and the offered dormitory. Servants meanwhile had started bringing in a few traveling trunks for the lady from the carriage and a couple bags from the horses for the General and Ed. On returning to the common room, the General was grinning happily.

"Looks good, Master Nopalo! My men'll appreciate it, those new quarters. Better than a bedroll in a stable, that's for sure, and as you said, better food then home! And the lady's turning in early--dinner sent in, if you will. Daring gal, to take a carriage through the woods without escort even without neighbors like ours, but then she has a decent hand with a light crossbow and all hers were armed thus, magicked bolts to boot. No matter--we'll be guiding her to the city when she's ready." The General patted the innkeeper's shoulder with a careful hand, and smirked. "We might be around a day or two, then be off again. Likewise on the way back, eh? You might get that match yet." Haymar's smirk fell to a serious, concerned expression, suddenly sober. "Good thing we were out and about, keeping an eye on the two Houses here. Nasty bit of business there, though. Prince Arpad's dead... for good this time. Elyas got him and left his broken sword by his remains, though the wolf's been laying low now, likely wounded pretty good. Word is Arpad, in his dying strike, bled him well... used his own teeth, too."

General Haymar Sartoshi was quiet for a moment in respect to the old vampire Prince's memory. That Arpad had used his fangs and tried draining the demon-were of blood in his last moments was a sign of the man's determination and strong will, considering what he drank must have been terrible (black blood, at that), even for his powerful constitution. He had been a fair man, keeping his kind under a firm hand and on their own estates, not bothering the general populace. He himself had no set home, preferring to perform circuits of his subjects' lands to better keep tabs on them. Vampire nobility tended to be a rather feisty lot, after all. Unless another royal blood stepped up to the plate, though, the same feisty nobility would start infighting over the succession and following their own agendas, likely leading to a fair amount of blood being shed, black and red.

With a clap of his hands, the General brightened again. His eyes followed to where Ed was attending two lovelies and an older man, and his smile grew sly. He winked at Nopalo.

"Well, on to better things, eh? I see you've some fair guests. How's the food coming?" he asked, not waiting for a reply before sauntering over to join them by the bar. "Young Lord Eddard, you seem to have found good company to entertain until diner is served!" he bellowed cheerfully.

***

Naitachel had blushed warmly, surprised to have his own hand grasped and kissed just like Soraya's. Golden eyes wide, he stared at the young lordling so brashly introducing himself to them and Marcabru, opening his mouth to reply but the bard beat him to it. Silently he hoped this Lord Eddard caught the "Messer" part of what Marcabru had said.

"Ah, Naitachel, as Master Marcabru said... Good eve?" the Seraph offered politely, gently pulling on his hand to try retrieving it from Ed's grasp. The young man seemed to be on the hunt for a mate. Not that Naitachel had anything against that, but he was uncomfortable being in the fellow's sights. "A party of us have just arrived ourselves to Nopalo's wonderful sanctuary. Have you come a long way yourself?"

***

"The House of Prince, you say?" The strange vampire straightened, frowning slightly amid wiping his own blood off his free hand with his kerchief. He seemed to muse over that name a long moment, studying Minhea with his gleaming green eyes as he tried to remember where he'd heard or read that House... Then his eyebrows rose abruptly. "Prince Radu's House, then? Gods, has something amiss happened to your own as well? I'm Victor FitzPatrick, distant blood of Prince Arpad Sarkani's, the House of Dragon. I know he and Radu used to correspond a good bit until human turmoil made that difficult."

Victor's mouth quirked into a smile, and he swung his good hand to clasp Min's in greeting, waving off the offer of assistance with the other (though it moved awkwardly still, as he was in the process of healing).

"My injuries be hanged!" he laughed. "But my thanks all the same. I fed to heal, or I wouldn't have dared a kill here so close to the weres. As it is, I've kin waiting for me at our manor yonder, so to go to Nopalo's and back--I can't warn them I'm well otherwise, you understand, with my limited range and theirs. They'd worry if I, too, didn't return. But I'd like to meet with your kin if we any are around right now?" The smile fell, and he grew somber. "I've bad news. You've arrived amid a battlefield, and we haven't been the winning side of late."

[Prince]

"Indeed, Prince Radu is my uncle. If you will, I can alert your kin of your condition. My own are about these woods as we speak, hunting the trespassers and game alike. No doubt we can provide some assistance to your own. I shall bring them to us, or you to them as you prefer," Min replied. "Perchance we can meet with Prince Arpad as well. It is only fitting that we present ourselves, as visiting royalty, or rather, newly relocated, but in his area of influence nonetheless. I know my uncle would be most pleased to reunite with his old friend once again. We've so few contemporaries left, and he is not oft given to socializing outside of our own. It would be good for him to visit with one he remembers so fondly."

[Naitachel]

"I'm afraid I have sad tidings regarding our House," Victor sighed, "but better if I give all the news in one go. I'm sorry to impose, but if you could ask them to meet us here? After, I need to head back to my own manor and carry news of your arrival as well, send it across our territory. Prince Radu is with you? That might be the blessing we have hoped for. I have a proposal to carry to him, but it's one best not announced to the world."

The Baron rubbed the back of his head uneasily. In truth, he wasn't sure he had any authority to ask this of them. However, if they took him up on it, the other nobles, even the Dukes and Duchesses and Earls, would back down to bluer blood than their own. Definitely without a fight, considering the reuptation of the Prince family. It would spare the vampires of this territory from vicious infighting and civil war, and probably the human populace from the repercussions of such a conflict. Not to mention possibly be their salvation from the weres taking advantage of the infighting to eradicate them while they stood divided. In fact, they might turn the tables and attack Elyas while he was weak, ending that threat? Victor could only hope.

[Prince]

Quick as a wink, the strange vampire was surrounded by members of the Prince family.

Min made the introductions as soon as his kin had all arrived.

"Go on," he urged Victor once that was done. "Share with us your news."

[Naitachel]

Victor looked about as the family surrounded them swiftly, smiling a bit in relief and greeting. It didn't take him long to pick out Radu from the rest, noting how others deferred to him and the air of authority surrounding him, even before Min introduced him. He gave a half-bow to each of the others in turn, then dropped to one knee before Radu himself, head bowed.

Taking an unhappy breath, Victor spoke. "My Prince... I have bad tidings. The House of Sarkani, the Dragons, we have been in quiet ongoing war with the local werewolves, the Nightwind Pack, ever since they accepted a leader of abnormal cruelty, a demon-dog-were by the name of Lord Elyas. Our Prince, Prince Arpad, led us again and again into battle in these lands surrounding Nopalo's neutral ground, intending to take out the demon-were and his minions before they could make great impact on the local human population. Only Elyas and his lieutenants are evil and demon-tainted, and the rest are but cowed dogs, rightfully fearing and obeying their whims, so not all are at fault. Our efforts have at least distracted them and kept them from more than a handful of human deaths."

Pausing, he had to bite his lip a moment against his own inner pain. He leader, his "father" as a vampire, his friend... was gone now.

"Prince Arpad has fallen, my Prince, just yesterday night. Lord Elyas and he fought a terrible battle, and he was mortally wounded, infected with Elyas' curse, so he did what he could, draining the were's blood with his own teeth until he could do no more. The rest of us came to his aid, but too late--our foes retreated with their leader, but ours lay too wounded to endure the cure. Arpad..." Victor had to pause, lest his voice do more than break. He could barely get the last words out. "Arpad asked myself to end him with honor. He would not endure becoming a slave to Elyas' bite and turn on his own. We scattered his ashes as he wished, to the river, where no wolf might desecrate his memory."

It took Victor a full minute, his throat working, to recompose himself enough to continue, head bowed low still. "Elyas is now retreated, and likely to be for some time to heal. Our Prince bought us and the humans some time. But Arpad had no direct kin, and we have no royal blood among our nobility, so quarreling has already begun. He would have gladly named you or one of yours as his successor, if any would be willing--and the others know of you and would be wise to submit. Please, Prince Radu, take the succession and lead us?"

[Soraya]

"Marcabru l'Droit du Signeur, minister without portfolio and chief advisor to her Sovereign Majesty Estrellita, Empress of the Twelve Worlds. Formerly bard-lyricist to Korkovan, ghan of the Golden Horde. Past Grand Master of the Knights of the Invisible Grail. A teller of tales and singer of songs, and occasionally a sword-arm when needed. I give you greeting, M’lord. My companions are Messer Naitachel and Milady Soraya. They are members of the Prince Family entourage.”

"Soraya," Eddard answered smoothly, smiling at her wolfishly. There was obvious intent behind that smile, smug as it was, and the redhead blushed further and found herself forced to look away.

Eddard like that - shy women liked to put up a bit of a chase, and were always the sweetest to conquer.

"Ah, Naitachel, as Master Marcabru said... Good eve?" the Seraph offered politely, gently pulling on his hand to try retrieving it from Ed's grasp. The young man seemed to be on the hunt for a mate. Not that Naitachel had anything against that, but he was uncomfortable being in the fellow's sights. "A party of us have just arrived ourselves to Nopalo's wonderful sanctuary. Have you come a long way yourself?"

"I am as pleased to meet you as you must be to meet me, the man who would protect you from harm in such a charming inn located in what can be dangerous country." Especially given the whispers of everything that had been going on lately, though he kept his counsel on that. No need to scare off the does before she had settled in. "But I promise you that with our arrival, things here are beyond safe. I am a member of the General's group. We travel all over these lands to enforce its laws and ensure no innocents are placed in peril."

As he spoke, his chest swelled with obvious pride in his work. He seemed to fancy himself some sort of hero as well as a regular charmer who knew how to woo women.

"Pray, Miss Naitachel," Eddard pressed, smiling at the seraph now, "you say you have just arrived? How far have you travelled? Surely if beauties, and, of course, talented bards such as yourself, sir, had graced Egralnar's social spheres, I would have heard about it from one of my siblings."

[Soraya]

Soraya could hardly believe her ears as she watched the blond man snake his way further into their conversations, using all possible forms of flattery.

"Miss Naitachel?" Soraya asked the stranger, realizing he had obviously missed some of the finer points of Marcabru's introductions. "You misunderstand," she tried to correct, "Naitachel is male," she said, though it was obvious her correction was lost as Eddard's gaze darted between herself and her friend undaunted. Did he genuinely not hear her, or was he simply ignoring her thinking she was lying?

And now he was asking for specifics on their origins, something she wasn't all that comfortable sharing, either, lest that bring about even more questions about not only their combined circumstances, but hers in particular as well. She still had no answers to that, and didn't want to give up any kernels of information that might land her in trouble, or land her in the sight of someone or something who was chasing her without her knowledge.

"Here and there," she interjected quickly. "With all the traveling we have done, it is difficult to even recall where we came from. What is more important is that we are here, no?"

[Prince]

It took Victor a full minute, his throat working, to recompose himself enough to continue, head bowed low still. "Elyas is now retreated, and likely to be for some time to heal. Our Prince bought us and the humans some time. But Arpad had no direct kin, and we have no royal blood among our nobility, so quarreling has already begun. He would have gladly named you or one of yours as his successor, if any would be willing--and the others know of you and would be wise to submit. Please, Prince Radu, take the succession and lead us?"

"Of course he will," Min answered before his uncle could find a reason to demur. "We could not dishonor Prince Arpad's memory with refusal, can we?"

Radu blinked, then sighed. "Of course not," he answered at last.

[Rowanna]

Rowanna sighed against Mirzan's chest, then rose slowly. "You'll miss dinner sitting up here with me," she cautioned. "Come. Let us see to your needs now."

[Sihlus]

<I am eating already,> he sent to Shayori and Sihlus. <I will bring you the leftovers. They appear to be... pheasant?> Not that he cared the species of bird. All were just as edible to him. A bird was a bird, right?

<As long as they're not buzzards,> Sihlus replied. He was distracted momentarily by howling from the distance and by the mental waves of fury and pain coming from unfamiliar minds. He cast about, seeking the source, and caught the fading thoughts of a dying vampire. Farther off and receding, another, stranger mind lifted the hair on the back of his neck. <There is something really ugly out there,> he told Terhon. <Shayori is still asleep. I'm going to check it out. Come if you want to; you might find another meal, although by the feel of its mind, it may be pretty gamey.> Disappearing within a silvery shimmer, he emerged as a large grey cat, who disappeared with a faint *pop*. Converging on the minds of the Prince family, he slowly, silently faded into view well back in the bushes.

[Shayori]

Shayori woke from her nap, frowning to find that neither Tehron nor Sihlus was there. Rising quickly, she brushed out her long red hair, cleaned up and went downstairs in search of her companions.

[Rowanna]

At the sound of distant howling, Rowanna froze in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat. A shudder ran through her tiny frame. She blinked, looking uncertainly toward Mirzan before resuming her course down to the common room.

[Marcabru]

"I am as pleased to meet you as you must be to meet me, the man who would protect you from harm in such a charming inn located in what can be dangerous country." Especially given the whispers of everything that had been going on lately, though he kept his counsel on that. No need to scare off the doe before she had settled in. "But I promise you that with our arrival, things here are beyond safe. I am a member of the General's group. We travel all over these lands to enforce its laws and ensure no innocents are placed in peril."

As he spoke, his chest swelled with obvious pride in his work. He seemed to fancy himself some sort of hero as well as a regular charmer who knew how to woo women.

"Pray, Miss Naitachel," Eddard pressed, smiling at the seraph now, "you say you have just arrived? How far have you travelled? Surely if beauties, and, of course, talented bards such as yourself, sir, had graced Egralnar's social spheres, I would have heard about it from one of my siblings."

Marcabru shot a sidewise glance at the general, to see how he reacted to this braggadocio, and smiled to himself to note that Sartoshi appeared to be equally engrossed in his table companions. 'Like master, like man,' the troubadour thought sardonically. Although to be fair, there was, as Marcabru had noted, an air of bluff honesty about the general that seemed to be if not missing, at least sadly depleted in the young nobleman.

"You are correct, sir," he replied to Eddard. "We have not yet approached your city, having arrived from another direction. Our previous stopping place was becoming embroiled in civil strife approaching anarchy, and we deemed it best, not being personally involved, to shake the dust from our feet and seek a more congenial habitation." He paused to take a sip of brandy. "Imagine our delight to encounter this inn, which not only provides all our needs and desires, but by the favor of Providence is owned by one who is not only an old friend, but a sword-brother to several in our party. Such a serendipitous occurrance should be of mutual benefit, not only to Nopalo and to ourselves, but to you gentlemen as well, as we shall be available and eager to add our abilities to the safe-keeping of your district if required."

Pulling a cigar from his bag, the troubadour conjured a small flame at the tip of his finger to light it, drawing in the smoke with obvious enjoyment. "Speaking of safety, we earlier heard what appeared to be a chorus of wolf-songs, but with a rather darker, eldritch tone than one might expect. Have you gentlemen any information concerning the possibility of werewolves in the area?"

[Naitachel]

Baron Victor stood, smiling in relief, and bowed deeply to Radu and the others. "Thank you, my Prince. I will go spread the wo--"

But he broke off as a mental cry of pain and anguish filled the air in the distance, from the direction of his own manor. The pain was male... the loss, a fading wisp of a female mind... both also vampires. They were stronger telepathically than Victor.

"No... Eva?" he breathed in horror and pain. "My... my Eva..." <Attila?> Victor tried to call, but the distance was too great for him to reach the other vampire. "Eva, one of my House, had been hurt during the battle yesterday--we weren't sure if she'd been bit by Elyas or someone else and she wasn't able to tell us then. We brought her home, and Attila was caring for her... My Eva, my adopted fledgling..." he mourned, staring in the direction of his manor.

***

Naitachel fought the urge to roll his eyes at Eddard, and sighed, smiling tolerantly. "Miss Soraya and Master Marcabru are right in that--I am most definitely male last I checked, Lord Eddard. But as she also said, regardless our origins and wandering we have arrived at a wonderful place, and I suspect we may be staying. Master Nopalo has been most welcoming, and is known to several of our companions such as Master Marcabru here and Master Sihlus... and I think Lady Rowanna and Master Mirzan as well? In any case, given good company, good food, and kindly host, how can one go wrong?"

But the Seraph stiffened and glanced into the distance to something he heard, a telepathic cry of loss and pain, the mourning of someone's death. His smile faltered in the face of that sadness, and he clenched his hands together in his lap.

"Is there... someone who lives out in that direction?" he asked Eddard and the General curiously, feeling sympathy for such a sad loss.

***

The General listened as well to the distant howls, and gave Marcabru a wry but confident smile. "We haven't had to consider the possibilities, Master Bard. The Nightwind Pack is a known fact in the area. They're generally well-behaved but a bit riled up lately, having been at odds with the local vampire clan, the House of Dragon, or Sarkani as they call themselves. A recent fight's dealt some heavy blows on both sides, so they'll be licking their wounds a while. No need to fret, though--we're keeping things safe. That's why I, Lord General Haymar Sartoshi, happen to be patrolling more of late with my men and Lord Eddard here. We intend to keep the peace regardless how that feud turns out."

Sliding carefully into a sturdy chair, Haymar leaned over to smile at Soraya and Naitachel, and patted a hand on Eddard's shoulder proudly. "Ed here's taken down a werewolf before, my dears. They bleed like anything else."

His gaze followed Naitachel's look, and the General frowned thoughtfully. "That's Baron Victor FitzPatrick's area, if you're thinking over the next hill. He's a quiet man, normally. Have you met him, by chance?"

[Terhon the BlackSilver]

<I am opposite the Inn from you, and I have no interest in sharing the kills of the vampires,> Terhon reasoned. <I think I will return to Shayori instead. There is nothing else of interest for me out here.>

With that, the Mara began ghosting back with his killed birds in hand. He felt Shayori's concern and curiosity through the ring that bound him, and sent a wordless reassurance back.

<I come. I bring... leftovers...> he offered her uncertainly. Did humans like gifts of dead birds? Some liked dead plants, after all. Or shiny rare stones. He never could figure that out. Granted magpies did that to draw the attention of a mate, but people still did it after they already had one.

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