[color=goldenrod][i][h2][center]Gerard Segremors[/center][/h2][/i][/color]

[@The Otter][@Psyker Landshark][@Octo]

If he were still the country hick he'd entered the wider world as in first joining the Black Regiment, he likely would have bought this wholesale. A grown man, a [i]Duke[/i] no less— donning a maid's dress, waving about a baguette on a crusade against pudding? Oh, the horror! His [i]mind[/i]! Truly addled, m'lord! As though it'd been destroyed in his grasp!

You got more than your yearly share of crazies, though, after about a month of sellswording, even in a competently-run free company. Thus, he eyed the proceedings with the same suspicion as everyone else, mouth a thin line as Fionn joined in, "yes and"ing the act as though testing where the Duke would go with it... until his ears picked up what Gertrude was saying. Fey magic was on the table?

Then the situation had just gotten a lot hairier.

[color=goldenrod]"We're at the feet of a great old wood."[/color] he muttered, turning to their maid-witch companion and his blueblooded peers.[color=goldenrod]"If he ever had cause to enter the bush, there's reasonable chance there's a fairy ring or some other territorial marker nearby. I can think of few things I'd rather do less than take a wrong step and suddenly be an uninvited guest in one of their Realms."[/color]