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Gertrude wasn't exactly expecting bandits as far out as they were, but she wasn't expecting a giant tree-snake either. If you'd asked her which they'd be more likely to find this close to a faerie queen, however, she probably would have picked the snake. Gertrude stood, undeterred, as the barrier that Arken had put up started shattering against the serpent's mass.

Thrinax was far more intimidating than this thing, though the terrain wasn't as much to her favor.

She could fly away, but the canopy wouldn't offer a clear shot. In fact, she might hit one of the knights by accident. Bombardment was out.

Fire was out, unless she was OK with causing some serious environmental damage that might kill everyone.

Meteor Fall was right out. Kill everyone, glass the whole area, nasty business. Would not endear a faerie queen to their plight.

Well. Since the creature was made up of a lot of different plants, but moved as one, she considered it likely that somewhere within the mass was a force that governed its movement. A central connecting point that determined shape, behavior, and locomotion. If that could be disrupted, the creature could be defeated. Otherwise, the knights would mostly be swinging at individual roots and vines. Gertrude took a deep breath, and focused. If she could sense the governing point, the sword-morons could converge on it. It might take her a moment, but she assumed Arken was competent enough to protect her. While the knights spread out, she stuck behind the court mage.

Since when did she start relying on other people to get things done for her? Curious, that.
As far as Gertrude was concerned, she'd done her part. She'd summoned the Niyar in and gathered some information, and was happy enough with this performance that she didn't see the need to put her own name forward in the coming matters of diplomacy. In fact, she was self-aware enough to know that her inability to say nice things and grovel as would probably be expected put her at a... disadvantage in such negotiations.

In short, she knew that she was rude and unsocialized and didn't really know how to fix it. Not, of course, that it needed to be fixed for the most part. As long as she was strong, people had to treat on her level and she didn't have to learn to talk pretty to them.

When dealing with Witches (and now Faerie nobility), however, her lack of decorum was like to get her into trouble. Annoyingly, people existed who were stronger than her. She would accompany the rest into the woods, but she made a mental note to hold her tongue in the presence of any Fae who was able to contort the world around her and the people inside it to her whims. Probably a good call.

As the woods grew darker and more twisted, Gertrude felt a chill run down her spine. They had crossed, at some point, from the area of the wood for youthful dalliances to the area where creatures from faerie stories might lurk. She didn't need to be told twice to put herself on guard, but when the captain had them form up, Gertrude also conspicuously took to the center with Fiadh and Arken. If she had meat-shields, of course she was going to use them.

Gertrude's uselessness in diplomacy annoyed her, but killing, at least, was something she could do. She readied her broom to blast the hell out of whatever wanted to try them.

"You sound almost like you're having fun, little mosquito," Gertrude quipped at Tyaethe, "you're a bit mad, aren't you?"
"Getting scared, mistress?" Gertrude asked Fanilly, grinning, "I don't blame you. If we go in, we may leave babbling inanity like that dotard, or we may not leave at all. Not all of us have methods to defend ourselves. What we do from here is your call, but the wellbeing of both the Duke and our order depends on your command."

Gertrude frowned at Fionn as he opened his big, stupid mouth.

"The woman is daffy, won't stop talking about patting my head like a small child or confusing convenient contracts with marriage certificates. I'll let her leave if you promise she won't touch-"

But Tyaethe was already breaking the circle, and Gertrude clicked her tongue as the Niyar flopped out of the containment area and onto her husband.

"And what exactly do you know about magic, you wee mosquito?" she growled at Tyaethe, "aside from brute-forcing your whims onto reality? Might as well be a little fairy princess yourself, the way you treat the subject."

She looked back to Fionn, then back to Tyaethe, then shrugged and grabbed a couple of tiny fruit tarts. She popped one into her mouth, and offered another to the Niyar.

"I won't say it's a terrible idea, lout, but if this Moonlit Queen sees Fiadh as competition, it may not end well. If we bring something or other as tribute, however, we may find her amenable to a noble alliance. Faeries are fond of gifts, after all," she demonstrated, offering more sweets to Fiadh.
Gertrude frowned, but her cheeks pinkened a little. This Niyar certainly knew how to get under her skin, or at least had a natural propensity to do so.

"I don't want anything from you but information. It would be a contract of convenience and nothing more, and furthermore, what part of me seems nice to you? I'm not a nice girl at all, I'll have you know," Gertrude over-explained, getting perhaps a little weirdly defensive. She pouted and crossed her arms beneath her chest, but continued after gathering herself for a few moments.

"So... powerful faeries end up being pretty unoriginal? You'd think it would be the opposite, but at least it's keeping in theme by being utterly baffling to mortals. Anyway, all we really know about her is that she's met the duke before, she's recently met him again, and around this meeting, the codger lost his lot. My own thoughts are that he made some sort of bargain with her a long time ago and recently came to collect for some reason, but I'm open to other theories."

Gertrude glanced at the door, and then to Arken.

"The lout will probably be by soon, he's married to this one and will likely have felt a pull. Any questions of your own, Arken? You've been here longer than I have, and it seems we finally have a line."
"It's fine if you're stumped, Arken," Gertrude replied bluntly to the relative silence on the court mage's end, "it's not exactly easy. I just figured as long as I had you... ah-"

The circle glowed green, and the Niyar showed herself. It was a success! Of course it was a success. A confident smirk crept up on Gertrude's lips, which quickly turned into a frown when Fiadh implied that Gertrude might be married to the lout for some reason. Do you have to be married to summon a man's fairy wife? Ugh, whatever.

"I-I'm not lonely and I don't need anyone to pat my head," Gertrude grumbled, not entirely turned off by the idea. Still, she wasn't about to be treated like a kid by yet another obscenely old and pretty woman. She was too proud, and she knew she'd catch shit from the lout when Fiadh told him besides.

"Anyways, this would be easier in the future if we had a formal contract. I could even give you some of these sweets. It would be good to be able to call you easily if that lout gets into trouble. But for now, we just need to know if you're aware of any fey that goes by the epithet 'The Moonlit Queen'. We're in Brennen on the edge of the woods, if that narrows anything down."
Gertrude gave Fanilly a short, almost certainly ironic curtsey, and smiled.

"Of course, mistress. I'll start right away," Gertrude said, beckoning to Arken, "and no need to worry, your lordship. I began learning summoning magic about two weeks ago, so naturally I am already proficient."

Gertrude began ordering the staff to clear out a medium-sized room for her, and with the backing of the court mage, she soon had everything she needed: space, quiet, materials, and lots of ridiculously unhealthy snacks. She immediately began drawing a summoning circle for fey, which she had memorized by heart, while occasionally pecking at a pastry or two.

"Summoning doesn't require a lot of mana, and I doubt you recognize what I'm drawing," she explained to Arken, licking some honey off her fingertip, "so aside from the room-clearing and snack-supplying, I don't need much help. Figured you'd like to take a peek at the technique I'm using, though. Maybe offer some insight, if you have any. My teacher made it purposely complex and opaque to keep anyone from summoning anything too harmful, but if I wanted to summon something harmful one day... well, I'd like to be able to edit it eventually. Whatever guesses you might have could help me unravel it sooner."

When Gertrude was done with the circle, she'd simply supply it with Fiadh's name, and the Niyar should show up. She hoped the pull would bother Fionn.
"I know her well enough, and I have her name," Gertrude replied to Fionn, shrugging, "I should be able to summon her. As I said, this could be a number of things, but as the oaf has pointed out..."

Gertrude nodded towards Gerard in a way that was not overtly hostile.

"Given the area, and the duke's odd behavior besides, fey isn't an awful guess. Since we have a good way of checking it... it's not a bad idea to summon her," she said, her reluctance to acknowledge Fionn's good idea tempered by her own enthusiasm to try summoning in a bit of a new context.

She turned to the court mage, unimpressed at first because she had no idea who this guy was, but softening somewhat when she learned that she was being acknowledged by someone with prestige. A smug smile crept up on her face.

"Finally, someone who can recognize my genius. Big cheese, eh? Can't say I picked up on anything 'missing', but I've never met the guy before. Curious, that. Since he's apparently also met this 'Moonlit Queen' a while back, you have to wonder... maybe he made a deal a long time ago, and she'd recently come by to collect? Thus the 'something missing'. Both fey and demonkind are fond of taking vague or conceptual things as recompense. What was the party for? Perhaps the occasion marked something inauspicious in hindsight. Either way, I'll want a room cordoned off for my summoning. And plenty of sweets."
Gertrude was a little taken aback. She had hoped Fanilly might interrogate her: what do you plan to cast? Are you planning on doing something bad? How can I trust you with a task of this import if you behave like you do?

She liked when people disbelieved and distrusted her, she felt it proved a point. Instead she only got a mild admonishment, which wasn't near the reaction she had hoped for. She clicked her tongue.

"I'll be a perfect lady in front of the mad codger, no need to worry," she replied, a mask of smug over her face.

---

'Mad codger' may have been more apt than Gertrude had intended. She had imagined a forgetful old man, or maybe a violent one. It looked more like the duke was putting on a one-man play, and a poorly-written one at that. Unless he was making liberal use of metaphor, but Gertrude hadn't been there since the start, so she doubted she had the context for interpretation.

Without missing a beat, the lout immediately began joining in the farce, and Gertrude found herself mildly amused. She doubted Fionn had the acting chops to imbibe the lunacy in a way that would give him any insight, but it was funny at least. Gertrude looked down at her own maid uniform.

"Am I in royal marching uniform now?" she mumbled to herself, turning to Fleuri when she was called on.

"I may be able to come up with something. If not now, then when the duke is sleeping. It will be easier to analyze the old goat when he's not thrashing about," Gertrude replied, shrugging, "but until then, might as well enjoy the show, eh?"

It was disturbingly obvious that Gertrude was getting some level of amusement out of the whole situation. Still, she had a job to do. She closed her eyes, and tried to block out all distractions, concentrating only on the flow of mana. The presence. The scent. And what she came up with... was odd. She opened her eyes.

"It's magic," she announced plainly, "but that much seems obvious. It's certainly not the type I use, and it mustn't have been the type a priest uses either. It's queer. Could be fey or demonic or something cast by an idiot with more mana than sense. It will require more investigation, but it's probably something fixable. Probably."
Gertrude floated alongside the knights, a thoroughly unimpressed expression on her face. A few seemed to be just as off-put as she was that they were being sent to interrogate a madman. Old age? Disease? Too many siblings for parents? It didn't seem the sort of matter for a contingent of knights to occupy themselves with, but with the medical and magical experts already called in and nothing to show for it, she supposed a horde of dunderpates might as well give it a shot.

A noble probably wouldn't have had a hack mage called in unless they were someone's nephew, but it was possible she could pick up on something that even an experienced finger-wiggler wouldn't. The rest seemed a bit excessive, save for the alchemist, but apparently the Roses had enough bad experiences in this forest to warrant considerably more firepower than Gertrude thought they needed.

Still, the lout wasn't completely wrong. Names had power, and it seemed that this wood had historically more than enough animosity for the Roses. It would be best to remain alert, so Gertrude opened her senses up as much as she could to the presence of mana, trying to tune the vampiric nexus out as much as she could.

...Goddesses, that woman could fawn over a horse.

"Think they'll let me cast on the old sod," Gertrude called up to Fanilly, "if I promise it's to his benefit? I mean, if you can't trust the Roses, who can you trust?"
"More comfortable? The further away I am from you, the better," Gertrude replied haughtily, "but sure, I'll take a room if the Iron Roses can afford it."

Gertrude would, of course, be perfectly comfortable just bunking with Gretchen (who Merilia had sent back first), but she liked the prospect of having two rooms to herself. Gertrude couldn't for the life of her figure out why she came later and appeared in a tree, but assumed it was simply to the fancy of the old bat. Had she been forgotten? Was she being punished? Gertrude would get revenge later, either way. She floated down on her broom, and came eye to eye with the lout. And a Niyar? And...

"Tyaethe?" Gertrude questioned, tilting her head at the Vampire who was even now attempting to disappear into the foliage as her hair was being braided.

"You bunk with the lout in a tree? I suppose my conception of you was a bit off," she continued in an obviously mocking manner, "I'd imagined pride and nobility. But my, look how you've grown."

There was no chance Tyaethe would recognize the current form of the little girl who had thrown a rock at her so many years ago, but it was still a bit novel meeting again like this. Gertrude reached out to pat her head, as was her normal behavior for short ladies that she wanted to tease.
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