The dungeon that Kathlin had been brought to under the mighty fortifications of Honor's Watch was damp and cold, having been carved out somewhere close to the core of the hard reef itself. Although there floor was covered in carved stones and doorways, the walls were left bare, the naked rocks of the reef dripping with moisture along the dungeon hallways. The prison section of the dungeon was relatively small, a narrow corridor stretching somewhat above ten meters inwards with six individual cells, barred shut with metal bars, and with only one door leading out.
Kathlin, who had been left with little more than her robes, lay in complete darkness in one of the cells. There was no source of light in the dungeon, it being situated too deep inside the reef for there to be any windows, and no torches or sconces were lit along the walls.
That was, until the flickering light of a torch could be seen through the grate on the door to the room, followed by a set of footsteps before the door suddenly swung open, casting the first bit of light into the room for hours! Entering the room were three men. The first one was the black haired human, Sevarian, wearing his regal themed silver commander armor and cloak as he walked alongside the cells. Accompanying him were two White Hand chevaliers, and one battlemage.
"So this is the prisoner." Sevarian commented as he reached Kathlin's cell, looking through the bars to gaze at the girl who was the only prisoner in the dungeon. The heavily armored sorcerer studied the girl with a mixture of anticipation, glee and excitement; like a kid staring at the shelves in a candy shop.
"I have to admit, when my Master told the architect that we would be needing prison cells, I had my doubts. But it seems his foresight was accurate yet again." Sevarian stated, before raising a hand to knock on one of the greenish metal bars that sealed Kathlin in her little corner.
"Thorium bars, impervious to magic, and as good as steel. And behind you are more than thirty feet of pure rock before you get to any kind of exit. Plenty of small details as well that allow for protective barriers and wards, if such precautions should be necessary. Though in your case, I do believe this might have been a little overkill."
While Sevarian talked, one of the Chevalier went on to unlock the door to Kathlin's cell. Upon opening it, he marched up to Kathlin and grabbed the girl by her arms, bringing them behind her back in a solid grip before leading her to the entry of her cell.
"The extra security won't be necessary, she is just a little girl." Sevarian commented to the Chevalier. The Chevalier eyed the Knight Commander for a moment, before eventually letting go off Kathlin's hands, leaving her free to move them about.
"Any escape attempt or attempt at resistance would probably not result in little more than a glorified suicide, wouldn't you agree?"
Sevarian asked, turning his attention to Kathlin before suddenly shaking his head.
"Oh, pardon my manners! I haven't even introduced myself. My name is Sevarian Hoster, Knight Commander of the White Hand. I have been looking forward to meeting you. You and I are going to have a wonderful time together!"
"How do you even keep that vile liquid from burning through you anyway?"
"Humfh, 'vile liquid'. Now lass, let me tell you!" Fran mentioned, reaching into his cloak to bring the canteen back into the Night Elf's vision.
"This here is a proper homebrew, based on the legendary recipe of Thanos Firebreath, a famed dwarven traveler who is said to have tasted every single brew on Azeroth, and even Outland. It is said that all his drinks put together would be enough to fill the lake of Loch Modan, and that he could figure out the recipe all the way down to the base ingredients from merely tasting a drop of any beverage!"
Fran proclaimed loudly and proudly, as if he was presenting the Night Elf with one of the greatest secrets of his people.
"Aye, it may be a bit strong. Mebbe lethal to a lightweight such as yerself. It also doubles as a makeshift firebomb if the situation calls for it. Quite destructive at that I might add." Fran commented as he balanced the canteen in his hand, before giving the plated belt surrounding his girth a solid pat.
"But this here is something that I have been building up fer years of experience! Just like battle makes a warrior's hide thick, so too does strong drinks toughen up his insides as well!"
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The Dwarf furrowed his heavy eyebrows for a moment, before he quickly made a subtle bow to Thea.
"Of course, m'lady. We'll be right outside. Come... " Before he turned to walk out, the dwarf's attention moved to the tall Night Elf standing next to him. Fran gently tugged Rithrynn's cloak to get her to move, before quickly letting go and retreating a step backwards as if he expected the Night Elf to immediately spin around in retaliation with her blade and attempt to swipe his head clean off for the 'offense'!
Once he had gotten her to move however, Fran was quick to walk over to the door and exit the room, waiting for Rithrynn to exit as well before closing the door as quietly as he could.
Given the fact that the heavy wooden door was well oiled, it was impossible to avoid an audible 'bang' as its iron frame smashed against the masonry of the doorframe. Pulling on his shoulder, Fran's eyes rolled over to gaze in every other direction other than the Night Elf. Fiddling with his belt, the dwarf moved a hand down into his cloak, much to the suspicion for the Night Elf, before freezing when he suddenly noticed a pair of monks walking past them on the other side of the column row.
Holding his hand still, he moved his other hand into a similar position - acting like he was watching the scenery of the Cathedral as the two monks passed them.
As soon as the two monks had disappeared around the last column however, the dwarf was quick to produce a tin canteen that he swiftly uncorked. As he removed the cork, a strong alcoholic aroma could immediately be smelled in the air around them, coming from whatever baneful stuff the dwarf had in the canteen. Taking a quick sip, Fran screwed the cork back on before putting the canteen back in his cloak.
"Sooo... " The dwarf finally said something, his eyes casually rolling back onto Rithrynn.
"What is it you guys are doing in Stormwind? I mean, other than raiding bars, picking fights and terrorizing the local markets?"
"Of course, m'lady. We'll be right outside. Come... " Before he turned to walk out, the dwarf's attention moved to the tall Night Elf standing next to him. Fran gently tugged Rithrynn's cloak to get her to move, before quickly letting go and retreating a step backwards as if he expected the Night Elf to immediately spin around in retaliation with her blade and attempt to swipe his head clean off for the 'offense'!
Once he had gotten her to move however, Fran was quick to walk over to the door and exit the room, waiting for Rithrynn to exit as well before closing the door as quietly as he could.
Given the fact that the heavy wooden door was well oiled, it was impossible to avoid an audible 'bang' as its iron frame smashed against the masonry of the doorframe. Pulling on his shoulder, Fran's eyes rolled over to gaze in every other direction other than the Night Elf. Fiddling with his belt, the dwarf moved a hand down into his cloak, much to the suspicion for the Night Elf, before freezing when he suddenly noticed a pair of monks walking past them on the other side of the column row.
Holding his hand still, he moved his other hand into a similar position - acting like he was watching the scenery of the Cathedral as the two monks passed them.
As soon as the two monks had disappeared around the last column however, the dwarf was quick to produce a tin canteen that he swiftly uncorked. As he removed the cork, a strong alcoholic aroma could immediately be smelled in the air around them, coming from whatever baneful stuff the dwarf had in the canteen. Taking a quick sip, Fran screwed the cork back on before putting the canteen back in his cloak.
"Sooo... " The dwarf finally said something, his eyes casually rolling back onto Rithrynn.
"What is it you guys are doing in Stormwind? I mean, other than raiding bars, picking fights and terrorizing the local markets?"
"Hold there - hold me pint fer a moment!" Fran suddenly exclaimed, the dwarf walking forward into the conversation while adjusting his girth-guard.
"What's all this cultist and dark sorcery business, and Death Cults connected to the White Hand?"
The Dwarf asked, looking surprised as his gaze passed through the group.
"I knew they were assholes, but this is adding a whole new layer to the pie of evil!" The dwarf expressed, holding up his hand while he spoke.
"I cannea tell whether this is a good, or a bad thing. If we can nail them as cultists in the eyes of Stormwind, they're as good as done for it! But, the idea of cultists infiltrating Stormwind is a frightening idea, especially considering their rapid expansion. These guys are spreading into more sectors than just security. You can hardly see a ball or party among the nobles where there isn't some hired white cloak."
The dwarf raised his mailed fist to pound it against his studded vest.
"The 'Van has a stake in this game as well, and by Bronzebeard's brass balls, ye bet we aren't gonna sit idly on our asses while the lillies's influence spreads throughout the city!" The dwarf stated stated loudly, but upon receiving a mixture of confusion, as well as slight ire from Marshal for his language, the dwarf was quick to comment again.
"Ahh, those are 'lillies', what we like to call the White Hand."
The dwarf commented as he scratched his long and bright beard, nodding his head.
"I'm afraid infiltration is not our strongest side, and we really can't just flat out attack the lillies without repercussions, but we know how to make a mess! If ye need their attention away from Honor's Watch tonight, then the 'Van's got you covered! I've been itching for some payback for me pa!"
"What's all this cultist and dark sorcery business, and Death Cults connected to the White Hand?"
The Dwarf asked, looking surprised as his gaze passed through the group.
"I knew they were assholes, but this is adding a whole new layer to the pie of evil!" The dwarf expressed, holding up his hand while he spoke.
"I cannea tell whether this is a good, or a bad thing. If we can nail them as cultists in the eyes of Stormwind, they're as good as done for it! But, the idea of cultists infiltrating Stormwind is a frightening idea, especially considering their rapid expansion. These guys are spreading into more sectors than just security. You can hardly see a ball or party among the nobles where there isn't some hired white cloak."
The dwarf raised his mailed fist to pound it against his studded vest.
"The 'Van has a stake in this game as well, and by Bronzebeard's brass balls, ye bet we aren't gonna sit idly on our asses while the lillies's influence spreads throughout the city!" The dwarf stated stated loudly, but upon receiving a mixture of confusion, as well as slight ire from Marshal for his language, the dwarf was quick to comment again.
"Ahh, those are 'lillies', what we like to call the White Hand."
The dwarf commented as he scratched his long and bright beard, nodding his head.
"I'm afraid infiltration is not our strongest side, and we really can't just flat out attack the lillies without repercussions, but we know how to make a mess! If ye need their attention away from Honor's Watch tonight, then the 'Van's got you covered! I've been itching for some payback for me pa!"
“There’s been all sorts of stories, that you brought in a dying dwarf yesterday and he bled out in the infirmary."
"That's just a story, lass." Fran replied to Bella, although hesitant as he wondered whether feeding her curiosity would be such a good thing to do. Liaena's mood, which had improved however so little since she had left the carriage, seemed to have gotten worse after the arrival of her 'old friend'. ¨
"Though it could have been true, if things had gone differently..."
As they entered the sacred grounds of the cathedral interior, the dwarf made sure to lower his voice, not wanting to interrupt the serenity within the holy walls of the place. However, any considerations made by the dwarf would be far outweighed by the inconsiderations of the NIght Elf walking behind them, as Rithrynn almost shouted out behind them!
"I can hear my own voice in here!"
"Would ye quiet down, kid! This is a holy place!" The dwarf would whisper slightly loudly back at the Night Elf, having taken the initiative to speak back against the Night Elf lest Marshal be given another opportunity to go on a divine rant of his, which seemed to be the old man's favorite pastime. But regardless of what the dwarf said, he might just go ahead with one regardless!
To the dwarf, it seemed like a logical paradox how such an obnoxious people as the Night Elves could be famed for being supposedly great scouts and unseen hunters!
"That's just a story, lass." Fran replied to Bella, although hesitant as he wondered whether feeding her curiosity would be such a good thing to do. Liaena's mood, which had improved however so little since she had left the carriage, seemed to have gotten worse after the arrival of her 'old friend'. ¨
"Though it could have been true, if things had gone differently..."
As they entered the sacred grounds of the cathedral interior, the dwarf made sure to lower his voice, not wanting to interrupt the serenity within the holy walls of the place. However, any considerations made by the dwarf would be far outweighed by the inconsiderations of the NIght Elf walking behind them, as Rithrynn almost shouted out behind them!
"I can hear my own voice in here!"
"Would ye quiet down, kid! This is a holy place!" The dwarf would whisper slightly loudly back at the Night Elf, having taken the initiative to speak back against the Night Elf lest Marshal be given another opportunity to go on a divine rant of his, which seemed to be the old man's favorite pastime. But regardless of what the dwarf said, he might just go ahead with one regardless!
To the dwarf, it seemed like a logical paradox how such an obnoxious people as the Night Elves could be famed for being supposedly great scouts and unseen hunters!
Fran gave an uncomfortable gaze towards elderly Marshal sitting next to him, and the Night Elf Rithrynn who was sitting on the opposite seat row. Although it seemed that Liaena had managed to instigate a modicum of order in the carriage, the eye contact between the former two was almost enough to form physical sparks in the air inside the wagon. To the dwarf, it was a feeling reminiscent of being trapped in a moving boxed together with dry gunpowder and an open flame - just waiting to make contact.
But the dwarf's concerns about his fellow passengers were pushed aside when Liaena suddenly passed him Aflidious's diary.
"I'm not much of a ... " Fran mumbled as he shuffled through the pages of the diary.
"This looks more like a bean counter's diary."
The dwarf seemed more confused by the maze of numbers and charts depicted in the Royal Treasury Advisor's journal,though his point of intrigue managed to rise a little bit as Liaena pointed him to the most relevant sections. Which were, in the least; slightly more intelligible to the dwarf.
"So, tha White Hand is running some shady guild economics? That could explain their quick expansion." The Dwarf reasoned, knowing the rapid expansion that marked the White Hand's success in both the kingdom of Stormwind and abroad.
"I knew there was no way those bastards could afford all their new stuff without making a huge deficit.
Taking a look at the urgent message written by Kathlin, Fran moved to look back at Liaena.
" ... I was wonderin' why there weren't anyone looking into it, but I guess it is difficult when you are dead. It seems your friend just walked into a game far beyond her own level without knowing."
But the dwarf's concerns about his fellow passengers were pushed aside when Liaena suddenly passed him Aflidious's diary.
"I'm not much of a ... " Fran mumbled as he shuffled through the pages of the diary.
"This looks more like a bean counter's diary."
The dwarf seemed more confused by the maze of numbers and charts depicted in the Royal Treasury Advisor's journal,though his point of intrigue managed to rise a little bit as Liaena pointed him to the most relevant sections. Which were, in the least; slightly more intelligible to the dwarf.
"So, tha White Hand is running some shady guild economics? That could explain their quick expansion." The Dwarf reasoned, knowing the rapid expansion that marked the White Hand's success in both the kingdom of Stormwind and abroad.
"I knew there was no way those bastards could afford all their new stuff without making a huge deficit.
Taking a look at the urgent message written by Kathlin, Fran moved to look back at Liaena.
" ... I was wonderin' why there weren't anyone looking into it, but I guess it is difficult when you are dead. It seems your friend just walked into a game far beyond her own level without knowing."
Fran merely stared dumbfounded at the little girl, the dwarf's brain requiring a moment to process the recent surge of information.
"Talk? Fire? What be tha meanin' of this, girl?" Fran tried to ask.
"It's very important!"
"Right. Alright!" Fran answered, finishing the last remnants in his tankard before slamming it down back onto the table. The younger dwarf grabbed his axe that was resting against the side of the table to strap it around his waist as he jumped off the chair, throwing a quick look to Darius and the rest of the men by the table.
"Tell me pa I'll be late, crisis just occurred with Rune. He'll understand."
The dwarf said, before following after Liaena; correcting his girth guard.
"So, ye are sayin' that somethin' happened at the house of that Aflidious guy?" Fran inquired as he followed Liaena, both of them now walking towards the door.
"The investigation was stalled?"
Brushing some crumbs off his ginger beard, Fran could only imagine what was going on in the mansion. If there was one thing he knew about nobility in general, then that was that things were never as they seemed. There was always some hidden conspiracy or subtle war going on either between or inside the royal houses. But that was probably just a natural effect of being in possession of so much money and power in the first place.
There was a reason he had always preferred simpler charges, such as protecting farmers, traders or going to war as opposed to stand guard in the illustrious and extravagant golden halls and mansions of the higher classes and nobility. The former were usually much more simple, less lies, deception and hidden games involved.
"I know Ragnar, lass. He's more than capable of acting on his own, having been in Ironforge's own courts and great houses." Fran said, looking over to Liaena.
"If he aven't reported back, he's probably found sumthin' really important, and is pursuin' it right now."
"Talk? Fire? What be tha meanin' of this, girl?" Fran tried to ask.
"It's very important!"
"Right. Alright!" Fran answered, finishing the last remnants in his tankard before slamming it down back onto the table. The younger dwarf grabbed his axe that was resting against the side of the table to strap it around his waist as he jumped off the chair, throwing a quick look to Darius and the rest of the men by the table.
"Tell me pa I'll be late, crisis just occurred with Rune. He'll understand."
The dwarf said, before following after Liaena; correcting his girth guard.
"So, ye are sayin' that somethin' happened at the house of that Aflidious guy?" Fran inquired as he followed Liaena, both of them now walking towards the door.
"The investigation was stalled?"
Brushing some crumbs off his ginger beard, Fran could only imagine what was going on in the mansion. If there was one thing he knew about nobility in general, then that was that things were never as they seemed. There was always some hidden conspiracy or subtle war going on either between or inside the royal houses. But that was probably just a natural effect of being in possession of so much money and power in the first place.
There was a reason he had always preferred simpler charges, such as protecting farmers, traders or going to war as opposed to stand guard in the illustrious and extravagant golden halls and mansions of the higher classes and nobility. The former were usually much more simple, less lies, deception and hidden games involved.
"I know Ragnar, lass. He's more than capable of acting on his own, having been in Ironforge's own courts and great houses." Fran said, looking over to Liaena.
"If he aven't reported back, he's probably found sumthin' really important, and is pursuin' it right now."
Oh yes, Rithrynn; it sounds like a mission that no one short of Rithrynn herself is more qualified to do(with maybe the exception of Serphia) :P
As the entire carriage tilted to the side, Ragnold had to hold on to his tophat as he tilted alongside his wagon to prevent it from falling off his head; before the whole thing slammed back on all its wheels.
"That's a sign we've reached our maximum weight capacity, I do believe." Ragnold muttered, before looking over to the Sentinel standing by the gate who was still covered in muck and melted snow that had spilled over to her during his speedy approach to the house.
"Sorry ladies, we're full. Heyaaj!" Ragnold explained, before flailing his lash through the air and sent his horses into a frenzy as they charged away and off into the direction of the Trade District, the cobblestone pavement of Stormwind causing the wagon to bob up and down as they traveled through the city. One reason for his speed was the fact that he was a man who simply enjoyed going fast whenever he could.
Another reason was because he quite rightly wasn't sure how much more he could have waited outside the gate without any of the sentinels shooting him!
As they crossed the bridge over to the Trade District, they entered what was by far the busiest streets in all of Stormwind compared to the other districts. The combination of wet, melting snow lying on top of layers of silk smooth crystal hard ice was a recipe of pure evil, as was evident in the citizens that passed in the streets around them, where they witnessed at least half a dozen close calls and at least two falls on their way to the center of the Trade District.
"Any specific address in mind, m'lady? AND WATCH THE ROAD YOU FRACKING NOB!" Ragnold shouted back into the carriage as they traversed the busy street, temporarily breaking off to shout a series of cursewords at another carriage driver that raced across the street in front of him, cutting him off by less than two meters!
"That's a sign we've reached our maximum weight capacity, I do believe." Ragnold muttered, before looking over to the Sentinel standing by the gate who was still covered in muck and melted snow that had spilled over to her during his speedy approach to the house.
"Sorry ladies, we're full. Heyaaj!" Ragnold explained, before flailing his lash through the air and sent his horses into a frenzy as they charged away and off into the direction of the Trade District, the cobblestone pavement of Stormwind causing the wagon to bob up and down as they traveled through the city. One reason for his speed was the fact that he was a man who simply enjoyed going fast whenever he could.
Another reason was because he quite rightly wasn't sure how much more he could have waited outside the gate without any of the sentinels shooting him!
As they crossed the bridge over to the Trade District, they entered what was by far the busiest streets in all of Stormwind compared to the other districts. The combination of wet, melting snow lying on top of layers of silk smooth crystal hard ice was a recipe of pure evil, as was evident in the citizens that passed in the streets around them, where they witnessed at least half a dozen close calls and at least two falls on their way to the center of the Trade District.
"Any specific address in mind, m'lady? AND WATCH THE ROAD YOU FRACKING NOB!" Ragnold shouted back into the carriage as they traversed the busy street, temporarily breaking off to shout a series of cursewords at another carriage driver that raced across the street in front of him, cutting him off by less than two meters!
“Could you arrange a carriage instead? Thanks”
"How soon do you need it?"
"Now!"
"Very well, I shall see to it." Friedrick nodded, quickly departing from Liaena and Marshal's company to disappear away in the opposite corridor. Walking through a series of rooms on the second floor, Friedrick approached the doorway to the balcony; only pausing to grab a flare gun that was hidden behind the drapery by the windows; before exiting the room and walking onto the snow covered balcony.
Receiving an odd stare from the Night Elven watcher who already stood on the balcony as he stepped out on it, the butler simply gave her a friendly smile in return while walking over to the balustrade. Cocking the gun, he aimed it to the sky to fire out a purple flare much to the bewilderment of the spectating watcher.
Leaning against his carriage was a shorter, slightly well-rounded gentleman by the name of Ragnold Butterbee, wearing a black fur cloak and a big tophat over his ginger hair. Rubbing his gloves together, he cast the surrounding street a disappointed look, all the nobles and rich people of the district apparently having chosen the day to walk and be sporty..
"Damn health trends... " He muttered to himself, brumming audibly to himself. But that was when he saw a glimpse of what could only look like a mid-day firework display further away in the district, which gained the carriage driver's attention. At first he looked merely confused, curious about who'd shoot up fireworks in the middle of the day. But when his brain finally arrived to the only logical conclusion, his eyes shot wide open in amazement!
"By all the shits that are holy, Sharon is actually gonna pay for a ride?!" The man muttered, sounding utterly shocked! But the surprise only lasted a few moments, before Ragnold had jumped onto the front seat of his carriage, and flailed his lash through the air to get the two black horses pulling his carriage to move! The carriage immediately started moving as the horses woke to life, the wheels spitting snow to either side of the street as he raced towards the front entrance of Sharon's mansion a few blocks down!
Upon arriving at the front entrance to Sharon's house, he braked violently; both the carriage and the horses sliding a couple of meters through the snow until he and the carriage finally stopped directly outside of the fenced entrance to Sharon.
"Anyone want a ride?" Ragnold inquired as he looked towards the entrance, tipping his hat. But despite his offering, he ended up receiving nothing but a filthy stare from the Night Elf at the gate. Nor did the watchers scattered across the roof seem any happier about his arrival, with no less than three arrows currently trained at him.
"How soon do you need it?"
"Now!"
"Very well, I shall see to it." Friedrick nodded, quickly departing from Liaena and Marshal's company to disappear away in the opposite corridor. Walking through a series of rooms on the second floor, Friedrick approached the doorway to the balcony; only pausing to grab a flare gun that was hidden behind the drapery by the windows; before exiting the room and walking onto the snow covered balcony.
Receiving an odd stare from the Night Elven watcher who already stood on the balcony as he stepped out on it, the butler simply gave her a friendly smile in return while walking over to the balustrade. Cocking the gun, he aimed it to the sky to fire out a purple flare much to the bewilderment of the spectating watcher.
Leaning against his carriage was a shorter, slightly well-rounded gentleman by the name of Ragnold Butterbee, wearing a black fur cloak and a big tophat over his ginger hair. Rubbing his gloves together, he cast the surrounding street a disappointed look, all the nobles and rich people of the district apparently having chosen the day to walk and be sporty..
"Damn health trends... " He muttered to himself, brumming audibly to himself. But that was when he saw a glimpse of what could only look like a mid-day firework display further away in the district, which gained the carriage driver's attention. At first he looked merely confused, curious about who'd shoot up fireworks in the middle of the day. But when his brain finally arrived to the only logical conclusion, his eyes shot wide open in amazement!
"By all the shits that are holy, Sharon is actually gonna pay for a ride?!" The man muttered, sounding utterly shocked! But the surprise only lasted a few moments, before Ragnold had jumped onto the front seat of his carriage, and flailed his lash through the air to get the two black horses pulling his carriage to move! The carriage immediately started moving as the horses woke to life, the wheels spitting snow to either side of the street as he raced towards the front entrance of Sharon's mansion a few blocks down!
Upon arriving at the front entrance to Sharon's house, he braked violently; both the carriage and the horses sliding a couple of meters through the snow until he and the carriage finally stopped directly outside of the fenced entrance to Sharon.
"Anyone want a ride?" Ragnold inquired as he looked towards the entrance, tipping his hat. But despite his offering, he ended up receiving nothing but a filthy stare from the Night Elf at the gate. Nor did the watchers scattered across the roof seem any happier about his arrival, with no less than three arrows currently trained at him.
Leaning back in his cushy leather office chair, Sharon was casually levitating a random paperweight and bottle of ink over his desk with a channeled spell when Friedrick suddenly turned the corner outside his office and marked in at an urgent pace.
"Good afternoon, Master Sharon. I trust all is still well?" He asked politely as he approached Sharon's desk. But when the human butler suddenly picked up the diary from Alfidious, Sharon was surprised to the point that he lost control of the levitation spell. While the paperweight slammed back down into his desk, the High Elf narrowly managed to catch the ink bottle before it spilled all across his desk.
"Wait, what do you need that one for?" Sharon hastily inquired as he looked towards the diary, placing the ink back on his desk.
"Just a request from Lady Rune in her attempt to negotiate with father Marshal. The man has a strong sense of independence."
"You mean stubbornness?"
"Yes, and a flair of the 'know-it-all' as well. But do not worry, Lady Rune wanted me to tell you that she has all under control.
"Of course... "
A report and assurance that 'all was OK' was never very reassuring when it came from Liaena, Sharon thought to himself. But it seemed too early to intervene, and so the High Elf eventually nodded, allowing the butler to leave with the book.
"Very well. If she needs it. But I want it back here when it is done. Let no harm befall it!"
"As if it was my newborn, Master Sharon." Friedrick answered politely, before the elderly butler turned and marched out of the room, carrying himself with a pace that suggested an attempt to balance his sense of professionalism between the required haste and urgency of the situation in question. As the lower end of Friedrick's tailcoat disappeared beyond the door, Sharon retreated back into his chair, folding his fingers together as he gazed out of his office.
"I can only hope Rithrynn is doing better than Liaena. Considering the fact that I haven't heard any sound of fighting or bones breaking, that can only be a good sign as far as any attempt to negotiate with Serphia is concerned."
"Good afternoon, Master Sharon. I trust all is still well?" He asked politely as he approached Sharon's desk. But when the human butler suddenly picked up the diary from Alfidious, Sharon was surprised to the point that he lost control of the levitation spell. While the paperweight slammed back down into his desk, the High Elf narrowly managed to catch the ink bottle before it spilled all across his desk.
"Wait, what do you need that one for?" Sharon hastily inquired as he looked towards the diary, placing the ink back on his desk.
"Just a request from Lady Rune in her attempt to negotiate with father Marshal. The man has a strong sense of independence."
"You mean stubbornness?"
"Yes, and a flair of the 'know-it-all' as well. But do not worry, Lady Rune wanted me to tell you that she has all under control.
"Of course... "
A report and assurance that 'all was OK' was never very reassuring when it came from Liaena, Sharon thought to himself. But it seemed too early to intervene, and so the High Elf eventually nodded, allowing the butler to leave with the book.
"Very well. If she needs it. But I want it back here when it is done. Let no harm befall it!"
"As if it was my newborn, Master Sharon." Friedrick answered politely, before the elderly butler turned and marched out of the room, carrying himself with a pace that suggested an attempt to balance his sense of professionalism between the required haste and urgency of the situation in question. As the lower end of Friedrick's tailcoat disappeared beyond the door, Sharon retreated back into his chair, folding his fingers together as he gazed out of his office.
"I can only hope Rithrynn is doing better than Liaena. Considering the fact that I haven't heard any sound of fighting or bones breaking, that can only be a good sign as far as any attempt to negotiate with Serphia is concerned."
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