Eventually, the gate lowered and out strode the man of the hour, Acamen Hopsfield. Volkimir eyed the cleric coolly as he approached, guarding his expression carefully. Hopsfield had lent the Dark Prince his strength in his earliest crusades to retake the Shadowlands from his corrupt noble house. However, once his wife had died, Hopsfield had lost the will to fight and returned to whatever lowborn hovel he called home. Volkimir was not particularly fond of the man, but he respected his strength and his conviction. Neither were in abundance in this day and age. Hopsfield seemed uneasy, almost frightened, and the vampire assumed that the man thought that he held some sort of grudge over some perceived slight or another. While that wasn't really true, Volkimir was not about to dispel that conception, either.

Hopsfield welcomed them into his keep, promising them undercooked meat to sate their appetites. Volkimir had to suppress laughter; for all this man did to fight against the tyranny of vampires, he seemed to know very little about them. Never the less, he answered the offer, "Good. My horses are hungry." His voice was dark and dry, forceful in tone and harsh on the ears. A hint of a Schattenwalder accent, which refused to be stomped out by Volkimir's ages of travel, tinted some of his consonants with ethnicity.

He directed his procession of knights across the draw bridge, and into the palisades. Once indoors, thankfully free of the blighted snow, he and his men dismounted their horses. Volkimir shook the snow from his winter furs, and handed them to one of his men, thus wearing only his usual adventuring attire. His knights seemed unperturbed by the snow, and so stood by in silence, their cloaks hanging wetly against their slick armor. A few of Hopsfield's attendents attempted to reign in the horses, which responded by shrieking at them and snapping with fanged mouths.

"Let them be," Volkimir offered the knights of the keep, "Or better yet, bring some of that meat we were promised. My entourage will arrive in some hours, and they will be stabled at my encampment." The Dark Prince's tone was sharp and to the point, but not unkind. Though he did not seem to be speaking out of charity, as much as trying to avoid a point of difficulty.