The true drakwald was not for some days by horseback, but the woods infesting the roads out of Middenheim were still thick and ominous, and even when they thinned, steam wafted and small creaks of decrepit trees kept a man on edge. The road was soggy, but not so deep a horse couldn't traverse it well with an experienced rider. Kasimir kept the reins of his horse firmly in his hands, eyes glancing left and right every minute, ears opened and alert. He left the city of the white wolf nearly half a day ago, making his way down the mountain and reaching one of the many roads that led to Neiderung. He figured that would be where Lucius would take her, and unfortunately he knew Lucius better than most. 

"Girl's an idiot," he sighed as his horse rounded the corner, and a small wayward village came into view. It spoke to the strength of the White Wolves and their constant patrolling that it was not a walled settlement, one of the very few in all of Middenland, as the shadow of Middenheim still towered over the region. It was relatively small as well, the main road directly apart of the travel road, cutting through the settlement as the central drag. Smoke puffed into the air from various small homes and businesses, and what men and women were out trudged by Kasimir with only giving him a cursory glance. He felt they were likely too busy to grant newcomers much notice, and the fact he was coming from the capital meant he was not a threat. But a moment later, he realized why so little attention was being granted to him. 

Up the road, another rider approached. Kasimir raised an eyebrow, noticing the steed he rode was well bred and powerful, so stark white it almost glowed, even with the sky above overcast. Upon it rode an equally powerful looking man in a tabard and old-style chainmail, and as the man turned his steed to the left, Kasimir saw the grotesque display of three beastmen heads tied to the saddle, their mouths open in screams, fangs and tongues out for all to see. It took Kasimir a few moments to recognize the regalia on his tabard, and the what the antiquated armor signified. He looked up at the sky, thinking that Ulric had a real sense of humor. He kicked his horse forward, and tethered it at the same inn as the knight. 

The fellow had taken off his plumed helm at the counter, searching through his bag and mutturing to himself in his foreign tongue when Kasimir approached. 

"I would like to buy this man a drink." Kasimir remarked, placing two krowns on the counter. The barman pursed his lips, and then scooped up both coins. "Whatever he wants, and I'll have what he's having." 

The man regarded Kasimir curiously, almost suspiciously. He bore a mustache a count would be envious of, and had deep set, green eyes that had an almost cerulean quality to them. His hair was matted and shaved into a short, flat top. He didn't invite Kasimir to sit, but he did give a nod in thanks. "Merci, monsieur." 

"You do the land a service killing those monsters." Kasimir declared as the Brettonian knight ordered wine, pulling up a stool beside him. He had to hand it to the man, wearing heavy chainmail even when drinking showed dedication. "Could I ask what brings you so far north?" 

"I serve ze ladee as zshe seez vit." He explained. "Ze derak wal iz dan-zsher-oos I am told. I seek ze favere of mon patron, and so I go weer ze monstres reside." The glasses of wine were placed before them both, and the Knight drank his without delay, Kasimir taking a more casual sip. After a few good gulps, he placed the beverage down and cleared his throat. "Wat breengs yoo to zis small villazsh?" 

Kasimir smiled into his drink, but forced it to disappear. "I am the son of Graf Todbringer, Count of this besieged province. I am on the quest to rescue a noblewoman from an evil vassal. Ironically, the woman is Brettonian like you. My odds of success are slim to none, but I must see it through for my noble father." 

The Knight's head slowly turned to look at Kasimir, his eyes penetrating into him. Kasimir saw the gleam, and it was as if the wine the man had so desperately focused on was swamp water. He turned in his stool, leaning forward, brows lowering. "Zis is non soom trick, oui?" 

The rakish bastard raised an eyebrow as if the idea were preposterous. Truth be told, even he would have had a difficult time believing it were he not living the reality, and he reached into his pack to pull out the steel and silver sigil of Boris Todbringer's office. "This is my father's seal," He said, letting the knight examine the item. "And what would I have to gain by lying to you, sir? I only tell you because I know men like you are honorable, and would not dare betray me to my enemies." 

He smelled the seal, and for a moment Kasimir thought he would test it by taste, but a few moments later he slammed the seal on the counter and raised his fist. "By ze ladee, I zshall 'elp you in zis quest, monsieur!"