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[Dwarmin]

You can never be absolutely sure, but the physicians agree that you have probably saved this woman's life.

Kninh spends a few more hours by the woman's side, to make sure the gods smile upon her.

He then requests to meet the king again.

Spoiler:  Letter to the King (click to show/hide)

My liege,

I write to you out of desperation. A up to now unkown Plague ravages my people. They turn grey, blind and lose all will to live. I have never seen such a thing and to be honest i am at a loss about what to do. I humbly ask you to send a priest or somebody versed in the ways of Medicine as my Doctors are not able to do anything about this illness.

Kninh is brought into to see the King.

Albert seems more worried than relieved, though-he's holding a letter...

"...The celebration will have to wait, it seems. Your success at treating my Bodyguard proved to me your talents, Saer-and you should consider yourself one of my own. But it seems I need these skills already, once again.

The people of Lord Harald Stonetree perish under some...Grey Death...it is much of one man, to ask he fight this. I can see no one else but yourself who may have a chance, Advisor. Will you go, and do what you can?" The King asked. But it wasn't really a question at all.

Action: Send messengers to the larger city hubs in Windheath, warning them of this plague and it's symptoms. Enforce stricter controls at the gates of Windheath, being careful not to allow any of the sick into the city.

"And here I must lay myself at your mercy, for I wove this web that a wiser man than I might reach the place to which I cut and see with clearer eyes than myself.  The second was a man of far greater standing, of wealth and vastly higher birth, a man who had a direct male line connection through his father, but whose mother had five fathers.

"A man with the power to change that young lady's life with his decision, one way or the other.  I looked to the sun and it blinded me, sire.  Is your vision any clearer?"

The King nods, realizing this is not a hypothetical situation.

"Yes. I know what you mean, Fool...and my vision is no less dim now, for having been once blinded.

...I believe a young Lady should have all the opportunity in the world to rise above her station. So it should be, and shall be.

People would talk, about the Nephews decision, though. How he swallowed his pride to do...the right thing. Is he weak? Craven? A Fool?

But the man in power rarely has a clear choice, between right and wrong. He learns to savor them, Fool. All the same, he does not advertise them to the world, does he?" The King stated.

Albert had an idea the Fool was speaking on behalf of a woman he knew or loved. He would rule in the young womans favor. He hoped the Fool understood where silence was truly golden. Albert knew his Father was his Father-but the Implication he let inheritance pass, would suggest to others doubt.

Still, Albert would not ruin someones life over crowns. Maybe a few years older, and a few years harder, he might have. But for now, he was young-and unwounded-in mind and soul, if not in body,

He had not yet learned the price of choosing good.

Action: Rule in the Fools favor in this case, covertly.

"Is the king receiving commoners and knights at the moment?" he asked, a tinge of determination and strength showing through his voice. He just hoped things would work out fine...He had little idea of how to behave in a city or inside that environment, for that matter.

The Guard looks you up and down. It's a woman today-soft, coppery brown hair spills from underneath a loose helmet, and sky blue eyes are tinged with fear. She seems unnerved by the Wolf-Bedecked knight.

"The King is meeting now, yes. What's your name and reason for seeking entrance, Sir?" She says, her hands tightening on her halberd.

[Caellath]

The Guard looks you up and down. It's a woman today-soft, coppery brown hair spills from underneath a loose helmet, and sky blue eyes are tinged with fear. She seems unnerved by the Wolf-Bedecked knight.

"The King is meeting now, yes. What's your name and reason for seeking entrance, Sir?" She says, her hands tightening on her halberd.

The smith stares into the guard's eyes for a moment, his usually lively - although at the moment fired by determination - hazel eyes the only thing showing through the wolflike visage of his steel helmet. Living with a worg companion for so much time probably leaves traces in you, and even if lacking life experience, he could immediately tell she was frightened.

His gauntleted hands open, showing no weapons aside from round protuberances on the smooth plate on the back of his hand where the knuckles would be, seemingly having been built to vaguely resemble claws of a worg and made for inflicting blunt trauma with efficiency. Almost allowing himself a smile, he continues, the accent in his voice showing he is probably used to a language other than the "official".
"My name is Talinth Dalach. I come from a family which has much to thank the royal family for. We have not provided real support to them since the the last War, and I come here in order to swear service and loyalty to the King."

As he talks, Sahainn carefully sits on its hind legs, as if waiting for the result of the conversation.

[Dwarmin]

The guard nods. Names are passed back and forth, records checked and double checked...some time later...

The Woman addresses you once again.

"The King has agreed to see you, Knight Dalach. He does question what you shall do with the Worg, though. Is it safe to leave unattended, or shall you be attempting to bring him in?"

[Caellath]

The guard nods. Names are passed back and forth, records checked and double checked...some time later...

The Woman addresses you once again.

"The King has agreed to see you, Knight Dalach. He does question what you shall do with the Worg, though. Is it safe to leave unattended, or shall you be attempting to bring him in?"

"This worg is a friend of mine and she prefers to stay by my side at all times. If you so wish, I may leave her behind."

He moves his hand to the worg's head and runs his fingers through her fur naturally. Sahainn responds by closing its eyes as if enjoying the display of attention.

"She is very well-behaved, and I hoped to have her near me when I swear my services to the King."

[Dwarmin]

"This worg is a friend of mine and she prefers to stay by my side at all times. If you so wish, I may leave her behind."

He moves his hand to the worg's head and runs his fingers through her fur naturally. Sahainn responds by closing its eyes as if enjoying the display of attention.

"She is very behaved, and I hoped to have her near me when I swear my services to the King."

The Guard nods.

"Very well, Saer. You are allowed entry into the castle, but you are responsible for this...beast. And liable for any damage it may cause, understood? Once inside, wait for the sensechal to call you into the throne room. The King is meeting with his adviser right now...some damnned plague or something..."

Assuming his agreement, the guards parted...

Talinth is let in, and watched-but from afar. It seems the King is not afraid of Worgs, or at least trying to show he's not. The other servants and guards do hasten to scurry, though Talinth spots a few of the braver young Squires who seem to have too much pride to do so. It's hard to find your way around the castle though...this place is a like a maze!

Sahainn whines once, as you pass the massive dining Hall of the castle on the way to the Throne Room, you hope-true enough, there's the massive head of a Female Worg-a pack leader, 20 ft in length-newly mounted above the fireplace. Perhaps the King enjoyed a recent spot of successful hunting?

Talinth is wondering, when he hears someone behind him.

She is young, yes-raven black hair and light green eyes. She's dressed more or less as commoner, but in a richer fashion lesser Nobles can afford. Perhaps some sort of high-class servant? Either way, there's little fear in her eyes of your Worg, and she doesn't even have the comfort of armor or a halberd.

"...Are you admiring the Kings trophy, Saer? Or are you just lost?

I see you favor odd company to bring here. Albert is a fine man, but no friend to the beasts of the world."

She crosses her arms, leaning against the castle wall.

[Caellath]

She is young, yes-raven black hair and light green eyes. She's dressed more or less as commoner, but in a richer fashion lesser Nobles can afford. Perhaps some sort of high-class servant? Either way, there's little fear in her eyes of your Worg, and she doesn't even have the comfort of armor or a halberd.

"...Are you admiring the Kings trophy, Saer? Or are you just lost?

I see you favor odd company to bring here. Albert is a fine man, but no friend to the beasts of the world."

She crosses her arms, leaning against the castle wall.

"I am simply trying to find my way." he answers, bowing for a moment before turning to Sahainn. The worg is stoic, and her short vocalization was probably to get his attention. Talinth shifts his gaze from the skull to the woman, unfazed. He knows there are hunts for worgs, and they are usually needed. If the King is able to bestow one of them in a hunt, at least it means he is already a man above his expectations, and not a fat, slow and lazy monarch.

"But I could use some help, after all." he answers with a smile behind the helmet, noticing she has called him Saer...He thought that was used to address to knights of fame and honor, or at the very least older than him. But then again, he remembers there is little in him that could show his age behind layers of steel.

[Dwarmin]

"Let me be your guide then. I am only a few months new to this castle, and I still occasionally lose my way. But I was nearly as lost as you are, right now."

She smiles, and steps a bit closer-noticing you're a bit young, at least.

"Tell me, what is your name, Knight?

And what of the Worgs name? Most men around here would probably go with something foolish like 'Throatbiter' or 'Fleshripper', but I sense you and her have a bond deeper than that." The woman says, looking the Worg in the eye.

[Caellath]

"My name is Talinth Dalach. It is an honor to meet you." he says, once more giving a half-bow. Women deserved more respect in his culture, as all life came from them, although he had heard the "civilized" areas tended to be less kind to women in general, going as far as having several at once in a strange kind of relationship and making them share the same husband...Talinth would have to accept those things anyway, as part of a culture other than his. Gods know a clash of cultures got his people in problems with the Haegar ages ago.

He then taps the female worg in the head.

"And this is Sahainn...Why would they pick names like those? Those seem more like terrible titles, not a worthy name." he pauses for a while, as if trying to fathom the reason.

Sahainn stares back, a glint deep in her blue eyes, more of a companion than a beast.

[Dwarmin]

She folds her hands in voluminous sleeves, motioning for you to follow

"An odd question. Well, they are less titles and more a way for a man who lives in fear, to make him feel more like the Master of that he would command. What they brand a beast, they would have for a beasts name-to make it less than what it is, you see. A man who kills bandits might begin to call them scum, for example-a Man who enjoys hurting women may call them Harlots, after a time.

There is power in the naming of things-the only empirical truth is that our perception of reality, is what makes it true. What you see is what you want to see, in plainer language.

My name is Ria Alareon. Pleasured to meet you, Sir Dalach.

Might Sahainn allow me to pet her? I know your companion is no house pet, nor you a Master, but she is beautiful and I would risk it, just to know that I had the chance and took it-even though, she could kill me before I laid hand on her, I am not that afraid.

Or am I hiding it that well?" The woman says, smiling.

[Caellath]

"Oh. Thank you for sharing an explanation, Hinn, or if you prefer, Lady Ria." the smith says, while thinking about the matter. Yes, her explanation matches the one given by his grandfather about how the minds of some men worked: Twisted and sick, always trying to compensate their lack of strength with a sword which reassured them and brought a feeling of protection, as if lending them the strength and resilience the cold steel had.

A good blacksmith also believes in the strength of steel, weapon and armor, but Talinth knew that when mind and body falter, no amount of metal saves a men from doom.

"...Harlots? Ah, yes, you may pet her." he answered after a quick exchange of glances between man and worg. Sahainn seemed to accept the request and came closer to Ria, offering her head and snowy fur.

On his side, the smith seems a little...maybe offended would be the right word, by the fact men in this time and age and coming from a civilized kingdom still call women harlots.

[Dwarmin]

Ria scratches Sahainn behind the left ear, placid as always.

"A beautiful animal...white as pure snow." She says reverently, leading on.

"...There is little I would know of you, Sir Dalach-I suspect you a knight come to seek Alberts Employ. Such business is not mine to pry, or care about honestly. No offense, but I've never been knowledgeable about the many and varied reasons men must persist to swing their blades around." She comments, with a wry grin.

You wonder why Ria is speaking of the King on a first name basis, and not his proper titles.

"I wish you luck all the same. What would you ask of me? You and I can speak freely, for now. Soon you know who I am, anyway, and maybe your words will be a bit more stifled and careful, but until then you can verily feign ignorance.

Most of the Knights and Noble-persons around seem to think I have some sort of sickness, that if they speak to, or notice me, they may catch it and fall ill. Or maybe they suppose I am a Ghost, who only exists to fulfill some task and depart from this place forever, and so do not bother."

She thinks a moment.

"Except for the Fools, anyway. Are you Fool enough to speak with me, Sir Dalach?"

[Caellath]

Talinth smiles as she poses her question, although his eyes are the only things showing his emotions at the moment.
"Lady Ria, I don't try and pretend to be wise beyond my years. I am just a child as far as knowledge and wisdom go, and I do believe I would be that fool. And I do have a thing to talk about: you need not call me Sir, and is the whole castle built like this?"

"And am I being impolite by attaching 'Lady' to your first name instead of your family name? We do have a belief the family does not make the person, but the individual speaks for herself."

The knight notices he had been careless. Their way of addressing people was different, after all. The family was important, but the name of the person was supposed to be the one to have an honorific attached to. At least that was the way with the Dalach.

[Tiruin]

"No I am not. I seek an audience with Lord Renart. Is he here?"

The less they know, the better...

"Well, if you're seeking the Marquis, he's in Northwatch Keep. Right...err, behind me, actually. Do you have a formal request for him that I could send? You don't look much of a commoner to me, but regulations exist.

"Reason for seeking audience?"

[Dwarmin]

As if to explain, Ria leads the trio through a bewildering loop-up stairs, doubling back, then down. She occasionally stops to decide on a direction, running her hand through the Worgs soft white fur.

"Yes, the entire Castle is like this...the lower levels are even worse. I wouldn't suggest you wander down there, they might not find you again.

This Castle was made to occupy very little space-to save money on the heavy stone transported over the river, and not to crowd out the city being built around it. Further, craftsmen from at least a dozen competing Royal families pitched in their skills, some good, some bad-all eager to out the others. They did not work together well, as you can imagine-leading to the castles patchwork and maze like manner."

She ran her hand over the wall-which seems to have four different style of competing architecture along the length of it.

"I am not a Lady, not really-nor much of anything, but that is the polite term, and you'd be a Fool to call me otherwise. Really, I do not mind what you call me, Talinth. Though I will take offense with 'Harlot'.

And my family was low-born. Of little note in the halls of power, are the Alareon. I am the only left, anyway. So I am the only who remembers them."

[Kestrel_6]

"No I am not. I seek an audience with Lord Renart. Is he here?"

The less they know, the better...

"Well, if you're seeking the Marquis, he's in Northwatch Keep. Right...err, behind me, actually. Do you have a formal request for him that I could send? You don't look much of a commoner to me, but regulations exist.

"Reason for seeking audience?"

Must be careful here...

"Tell him... The King has sent me to help with Ban Yi Soong."