It's a beautiful day ~ Samheen 26th, Brytan

[Syra]

Samheen 26th, morningtide

The morning was grey and dull, keeping all the warmth of the previous days caught between the land and the clouds. It would not be surprising if a thunderstorm broke loose later on, but for now Roque d'Ancourt was stuck with an oppressive, restless mood.

It fitted the morning perfectly, with people already knowledgeable about the lady Lerussa's death and many gossiping about what might have been the cause. News travelled fast, especially if it involved one of the major Houses.

Brytan's father had already gone to sleep the evening before, saving the young man from having to explain his appearance. Yet the morning would most certainly be filled with questions. Already the smells and sounds of breakfast filled the house, everyone ready to take on the new day despite it's strange weather.

"Brytan?" His fathers eager voice. "Brytan, you awake yet?"

[Brytan]

"Head, hurting, must, sleep..."

What a night he had had. After getting home Brytan had been glad to find everyone fast asleep as he had snuck in the back and gone to his room. Not even taking the time to take of his clothes he just hid his weapons in the usual place under a floorboard in the corner and fell right alseep on his cot.

Visions and dreams had haunted him. Dreams of the party, of shadow and blood. All the strange goings on had flashed before his eyes and even though he had begged many times to wake up, fatigue had kept him fast asleep until just now, with the sun already teaming over the rooftops of Roque.

Slowly, Brytan got up, shaking his head, maybe getting rid of the memories that way. Nope, still there. Still groggy he grabbed the waterbowl that was beside his bed and splashed some water in his face. Hoping that maybe that would help.

Nope, still there.

Without even bothering to get his regular clothes out, or fashioning himself in any way he made his way to the kitchen where he had heard the rest of his family already busy on their morning routine.

Head still hurting he sat down at the table, dreading his father's questions which he was sure to have to answer...

[Syra]

His father was the spitting image of Brytan: the same dark-blond hair, the same grey eyes with the only difference that he wore his hair short. Those same, grey eyes were now surveying the appearance of his only son. The rumpled clothes and shabby hair told stories in a multitude of ways Brytan himself might never even get close to.

"Well now..." He started out carefully, seating himself at the table. "I see it made an impact at least. That's something...I guess...I hope...Good Dominicus, what did you have to drink? You look like you've swam to King's Court and back! Sit down, have something to eat...no wait, clean up! Go take a bath!"

"Easy now..." His wife interrupted. "Leave the boy to wake up first...here, Brytan, have some eggs."

She took her husband aside and whispered fiercely, leaving Brytan to the breakfast table with his sister -who seemed to have nothing better to do than splut all the sunny side eggs with one hand and using it as paint on the tablecloth.

"Sweetheart, I know you are anxious to know what happened. I know what you heard on the streets. Just be thankful he's home...safe..." The woman tried to soothe Brytan's father.

"You're damn right I want to know!" The older man huffed and looked back at the table. "Oh no...Marissa, don't do that!" He grabbed his daughter and took her with him to the waterbarrel, forcefully washing her hands while she complained endlessly about her artistic prowess being interrupted.

This left Brytan with his mother. She walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Forgive him, dear...he is rather...upset...as I guess you are too. Are you sure you don't want to go wash up first? It might make you feel better?"

She obviously wasn't sure what to do. Gossip was only gossip after all, but his entire appearance betrayed something bad had happened. Would she have to ask or was her son going to tell her?

[Brytan]

"Thanks mom. I do think I'll throw some water on my face first."

He couldn't really decide what to do for himself at the moment. His mother, being caring as always luckily helped him decide what to do next so he got up again, happy in a way he'd not have to say anything for at least a few more burns.
He went back to his bed, where his own set of clothes lay on a chair. His mother had most likely taken the opportunity to wash it, since it smelled like soap when putting on his tunic. He washed his hands and face and tied his hair back firmly, like he did every morning. He felt a bit more like himself now.

Last he put on his boots, tied on his belt, slid a dagger inbetween it and his tunic, all part of his daily routine. Waking up to his father's shouting might not be very pleasant, but it was effective. He could now still hear him raving at Marissa for playing with her eggs, something he normally would have laughed at and let his mother take care of.

"By The Dove's tailfeathers, he must have heard about the party already." The thought just now arrived at his mind waking up. He walked back out to the kitchen and sat back down. Looking at his mother primarily he said: "I guess you must have heard about what happened?" He took a bite of his breakfast. He felt a bit more at ease now, having dressed properly. He was however afraid of how much his father knew about his part in the 'festivities' and how he would react when he told him. "I didn't have anything to do with it mom, I swear to Dominicus. I just tried to help. I wouldn't do anything to shame father, you know that."

He knew his mother would understand, or he hoped she would at least. But he didn't have high hopes for his father's reaction.

[Syra]

When Brytan returned the family was restored at the breakfast table -with the remainder of the eggs well away from Marissa. His father looked at him with anticipation, really already giving the answer before his son finished asking.

"We heard." He replied softly.

"We heard." Marissa intoned, drawing her brows together in a very nice imitation of the older man.

"Marissa..." Letya asked her daughter with a sigh.

"Marissa..." The girl parrotted back with a very theatrical sigh.

"Right, thats it." Wolter got up, grabbed his daughter under one arm and removed her from the livingroom. Outside the door she could still be heard echoing: "Right, that's it."

Wolter returned to the table, looking at Brytan with something akin to fear in his eyes. "Of course we know you had nothing to do with it. Of course we know. We would not doubt you for a flicker. But what will this mean? Have you been accused? Where does it go from here?"

Anxiety.
That's what was playing in the man's eyes. Anxiety about what? About who? Was this worry about his son or about their good name?

Letya kept out of the conversation, her eyes downcast on her plate. His mother was obviously upset, the pale cheeks giving away what her mouth would not say.

[Brytan]

His little sister always made Brytan laugh.

She was ten yahren younger than him, which means he had conciously seen her grow up. She had always been a little nosy upstart. Annoying sometimes, but most of the time he and she got along wonderfully. They both had the same temper sometimes, and they were both very keen to find out things they shouldn't really know. Sometimes Brytan had wondered who they had gotten it from. Especially when his father went all serious on them.

Like today...

"No dad, I haven't been accused. I met some really nice people at the party. It all went good I think, I even spoke with Lord Ulinwen himself shortly." He thought he should stretch this story a bit, put in some of the better parts, even though his mind was still struggling with the worst. "I spoke to him, everything was going well. Until Eloise, the ward of one of the people I met. Well, she..." The thought of the blood, the maze, the guards. They all rushed back to him and tears welled up in his eyes. "And then I went into the maze, to see if I could help, and they grabbed me, but Brionna told Lord Ulinwen I wasn't the killer, and..." He had to pause. He wasn't as upset as the night before, but the memory was still fresh in his mind. "And then I left and that was it."

He took some water from the breakfasttable and drank a little. With the firm resolve in the back of his mind not to have this one bad night ruin what might turn out to be a much better day...

[Syra]

"Not accused." His father took a deep breath in sheer relief. Even his mother sat back after the liberating words. Of course with the change of clothes and the quick wash up most of the dreadful weight had already moved away from Brytan's shoulders. Maybe his parents' reaction would help with the remainder of the looming darkness.

"But then...Eloise? You mean Eloise Souived? So it was her mother then? Poor child..." How typically like Letya to be thinking of the girl first. Upon seeing the tears in her son's eyes she stepped over and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, Brytan, it's over. Whatever it was, it is over."[hr][/hr]"It is over"
It echoed through the door to the little curious Marissa who was -of course- still listening at the door. She hadn't grown to be eleven yahren of age in the fair city of Roque d'Ancourt without learning how to get information and use it to the best of her abilities!

A shadow moved underneath Brytan's door.

The girl frowned, looking at the livingroom again. It was a tough choice between her perfect eavesdropping spot or find something interesting in her brother's chamber.

Her eyes lit up. Maybe he had brought her something from the party! It had to be something alive, since it was moving inside his room.

Maybe it's a dog! He knows I want a dog! He knows I would LOVE a dog! And he's the bestest brother ever! Yes, I'm sure he got me a dog!

Wooping with silent joy the girl left the livingroom door and moved over to where she had seen the shadows. Carefully she opened Brytan's room, afraid he'd left a trap like last time. She'd had a hard time explaining exactly why she was covered in last night's desert that time.

Giggling she opened the door further. "Heeere, doggy, doggy, doggy!"

With a wet flop Brytan's dirty clothes fell on the floor. Marissa moved towards the pile. "Are you in there, little doggy? Come on, I won't hurt you!" She crooned and grabbed the filthy tunic.

Her eyes went wide with shock. [hr][/hr]A scream from behind the closed living room door. Both parents sat up straight. It took them a moment, but Letya was the first to recover. "Marissa!"

Right now Brytan was the one closest to the door, although his mother would soon be the first out if he did not act.

[Brytan]

"One, No!"

Hearing the scream from beyond the door woke Brytan from his feeling of self pity. Ofcourse he was glad his parents sighed relief after his somewhat incoherent story, but that still hadn't quite released him from his feeling of sorrow.

This did.

He went from sorrow straight into his training, realising his sister was in danger. The same rush of blood he had felt before leaping into the maze now again took control of his limbs and thoughts as he drew his weapon, with a prowess that might even surprise his father, who had thought Brytan to only use his blades for leatherworking and carving up the odd apple. His senses hightened as he lept from the chair, moving around his mother who had still been standing next to him and for the door.
From an unknown corner of his conciousness the same feeling of dread crept into his mind as he had felt from before. The cry of Lord Souived and the little girl Eloise ringing in his ears. No, it wasn't them this time...

As fast as his feet could carry him, he rushed to the origin of the sound, ready to act on whatever threat might be upon Marissa. Robbers, thugs, wild beasts couldn't stop him. Somewhere in his mind something told him it was neither of these...

He ignored that thought.

[Syra]

"Marissa!" Closely followed by an equal surprised yell: "Brytan!""

Neither parents could stop the young man from darting out of the door towards his screaming sister. By the time he was out of the livingroom, the screaming stopped. By the time he crashed into his own bedroom, Marissa stared at him with blinking eyes, holding his dirty clothes from the evening before. The rusty stains were clearly visible and the set was probably beyond washing by now.

Her voice sounded remarkably stable for someone who just screamed her lungs out: "You didn't get me a doggy." She pouted, dropping the clothes. With two steps she was at Brytan's side, throwing herself in his arms as any trusting sibling would do. "My head hurts."

Her eyes clouded over for just a flicker. "Will you get me a doggy?" Marissa felt feverish to the touch, her breath coming at irregular intervals. It was a huge change from the pesky, lively girl at the breakfasttable.

By now both parents barged in, staring at the strange scene with concern written all over their face. "Brytan...what in the name of the One..." His father tried, but failed to find the right words.

[Brytan]

A lot of thoughts raced through Brytan's head as he made the short distance from the kitchen to his bedroom where Marissa's screams had come from. He feared for the worst when he lept through the door, only to find his little sister holding his dirty set of clothes, asking silly questions about pet dogs.

At first he felt relief, knowing that Marissa was physically ok, but as she grabbed him he knew something else was wrong. Only moments earlier she had been annoying the underworld out of their parents, now she looked ill, and she felt ill aswell.

"Marissa, what is wrong? What happened?" Were the first things he could think of asking. A quick check of the room didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary, besides ofcourse the pile of clothes which now lay at his feet instead of on the chair where he had left them. "Mom, Marissa doesn't look to good." He handed his sister over to his mother and then made a quick inspection of the rest of the room and the hallway. Something must have startled his sister, she was never prone to scream so easily. Again he asked: "Marissa, what did you see, what scared you?"

[Syra]

Marissa was shivering all over, big tears welling up in her eyes before rolling over her round cheeks. "There was no dog." She sobbed softly, still holding on to Brytan for dear life. "I thought there was a dog but there was no dog."

While Letya tried to pry the girl away from her brother Wolter inspected the room. He could find nothing wrong other than a pile of filthy clothes that belonged in the washing basin.

Big eyes looked at Brytan. "She killed herself. She took a glass and cut herself!" She yelled at him, a hysterical edge close in her voice. "He killed too! They died, they all died! THEY ALL DIED!" With last scream she fainted.

Deadly silence followed. Letya clapped a hand in front of her mouth, tears streaming out of her eyes while looking at her only daughter. Wolter picked up Marissa and quickly put her to bed, not bothering with undressing her. "This looks bad. Pretty bad. Brytan, get the surgeon. I don't know what's wrong, but she's burning up." He grumbled. "Nonsense she's speaking. Must have picked up on gossip on the street."

It never occured to him that such grizzly details never made it into the story he heard.

[Brytan]

But it did to Brytan.

He had been the first one to find Lady Lerussa in the maze, and he had also been the person to discover her wrists cut without any sign of a weapon. The comment about the glass made some sense to him in that respect, shocking him aswell since there would be no way how she would be aware of these facts unless she had been there, which she wasn't.

The stuff she said about a him killing didn't ring any bells. Did more people die that night? By an unknown hand? Questions to ask later. The room had seemed clear and without anything else he himself could do for his sister he obeyed his father.

"I'll be right back!"

And with those words he rushed off. His sister lay ill from some unknown ailment. No way he was going to let that be for longer than he could help it. The surgeon lived a while away in the direction of the Upper City. It had been a while since he had last been there, luckily not often one of his family fell ill enough to require serious medical attention. He hoped he could find it still, wondering all the way what could be wrong.

"Maybe someone else who was at the party could tell me if someone else has gone missing, maybe someone close to the nobles. Brionna? If that is true then what Marissa said isn't just a delusion."

He worried all the way to the surgeon.

[Syra]

The mood on the streets matched his for anxiousness. There was something going on outside the influence of his parent's home and it wasn't pretty. Already people were gathering, wearing frowns on their faces and even some pretty useless tools here in the streets. They did not pay any attention to Brytan as he shot past, knowing him by face.

Had the young man hung around he might have picked up on the source of the discontent. As it was he was off to the higher levels of Roque where the physician annex surgeon lived. Passing the higher houses with larger windows there was another kind of crowd here, assembled around one of the houses where two women were accusing each other's children of eloping.

"He is too sensible! He would never pick up that ...sunflower of a girl!"

"Luna did not want to go in the first place! She does not even LIKE him!"

If he kept up his speed he was well past this little row before anything else could be said. Moving further up the streets broadened and here it was that Brytan found the home of good Salmodion. The somewhat broader man opened the door as soon as Brytan arrived, not even waiting for him to knock.

"I saw you running, young man. What's the emergency?" The balding man already had his coat on.

[Brytan]

Brytan rushed through the streets, his mind fevered with thoughts about what was going on. The tension in the people around him was almost thick enough to cut through with a blade, frowns on the faces of the people he knew from his neighbourhood. He dodged the traffic on the streets, peddlers, carts, people going to the market or just walking to visit someone. He paced himself a bit at corners, sometimes trying to remember the quickest route to take to the surgeon.

As he passed the squabelling women, and he heard the name Luna he slowed down a little. But only long enough to wonder: "Sunflower? Luna? Of all the odd chances." The city was large, but apparently small enough to overhear conversations about people you only just met. How many women could there be that were reffered to in that manner?

But, no time, he needed to rush. He made a quick note of the location of the house in his mind, should he have time to talk to her later. She had been in that weird dream he'd had, hadn't she?

He peeled to a halt in front of the surgeon's door, who was just coming outside, asking him what was going on. He needed a few moments to catch his breath, wheezing and gasping as he spoke. "Sir...my sister...she's...ill...strange fever...knows things...hysterical...please..."
He took a few moments longer to at least form a proper sentence.
"My sister is sick, please can you come? We don't know what happened. She was fine one minute and struck with illness the next." His eyes showed signs of despair as he looked at the surgeon, waiting for a response, intent on showing him the way to his house as soon as possible. He wondered how Marissa was doing...

[Syra]

"Easy, son, easy! Take a breath!" The physician urged the panting young man. Two women walking past looked at the little display with worry in their eyes. It was never good when someone came calling on Salmodion. They moved on quickly.

"Alright, it's your sister. No fear, I'm with you. Come, where is your home again?" Patting Brytan on the back the older man followed without any reservations. He did not spend time on idle chit chat. Obviously the young man was too anxious to make conversation. The observant man did note several disturbances in the streets and frowned.

Times are changing. Too rapidly, perhaps. I wonder if king Balthasar realizes this. The people will not take much more. Pax Balthasar was one thing, but the sudden taxes and request for troops? I wonder how many young man will be drafted soon.

He regarded Brytan. Will he be amongst them? What will they do with those refusing to fight?

There was no more time to spend on musings as they reached Brytan's home. Immediately Letya opened the door and let the two men in, her face pale. "It's Marissa. She...she's got a fever, but she was alright this morning!"

"Alright." Salmodion followed the worried mother to the bed that held Marissa. Brytan's sister looked ghastly, her face drawn and almost grey, drops of sweat pearling on her forehead as the girl continued to stare at every little sound and movement with big, feverish eyes.

"Did she have anything unusual to eat?" The physician questioned while he examined his little patient. "Anything out of the ordinary happened?"

Wolter joined the little group, holding his wife with a supportive arm around her shoulders."Nothing, master Salmodion. Nothing at all. She was just her usual self and then suddenly....this..."

"Hm."

Letya looked at Wolter and back at the older man. "What does that mean? Is that a good 'hm'? Is that bad? What is going on with my little girl!" Her eyes filled with tears.

After a few more moments the man rose from the bed. "A bad fever indeed. Are you sure nothing happened? It almost looks like...something or someone frightened her into this. Look at her..." He pointed at the rapidly moving eyes. "I'm afraid at this point I can only proscribe something that might surpress the fever, but we're going to need more information before I can do anything else. Please warn me if there is any change in her condition."

He left the pills and drinks most children would learn to hate throughout their life and good do nothing else but wish them good luck, leaving the worried family with a shake of his head.

"Alright." It was Wolter who broke the silence. "We can't let this upset the entire day. Brytan, stay close. I don't want your mother to have to watch the girl all the time. Letya, trust Brytan. Come along, love. I want to show you something." A purposeful nod over Letya's head informed Brytan that he was taking the worried woman away on purpose.

As soon as both parents were out of the room, Marissa grabbed Brytan's breeches again, her eyes staring at him in horror. "You saw her, didn't you?" She trembled.

[Brytan]

There was nothing else. He couldn't bother Salmodion with his suspicion as he would surely think him insane aswell. As the surgeon asked his questions and left, he felt that he had to do something, had to speak up. The more he wondered what could have triggered his sister's illness, more and more he kept thinking back to last night. The screams, the blood. Marissa had spoken of things she couldn't have known, she couldn't have seen unless she was there. Unless she was there even after he had been...

As soon as both parents were out of the room, Marissa grabbed Brytan's breeches again, her eyes staring at him in horror. "You saw her, didn't you?" She trembled.

She seemed terrified, shocked by something so horrible he could only assume it was lady Lerussa she was talking about. His dream, mixed with the reality of the previous night had left it's markings on his soul, let alone what such a sight would do to a child, although he still couldn't figure out how she could know. He looked down into his sister's eyes, stroking the hair out of her face, all pale and wet with fever. "Yes, I did see her. But you didn't. You weren't there. How could you know, what happened to you?" His voice almost a whisper as he stared at his little sis. "You couldn't know..."

[Syra]

"It's all shadows." Marissa whispered, her eyes checking out the room for an unseen enemy. "It's all shadows. They are waiting in the corners. And when they jump you can see everything. But it's not nice. I thought I wanted to see everything, but I don't like it! I don't want it anymore! Can't you make it go away?"

The pleading voice disappeared as her eyes locked onto something near the window. A slither of sun through the thick clouds touched the windowsil, throwing strange shadows under the yellow light. A thunderstorm could not be far off from the looks of it.

A shadow evaded the touch of sunlight and moved through the window, disappearing from sight.

"Make it go away." Marissa whispered, falling back into the pillows when the door opened again, admitting Wolter back into the room.

"Brytan." His voice was all businesslike despite the sick girl on the couch. "Seems we got a job. Letya is going to need me. Some lord Farnine needs some skinning done. Never heard of the man, but business is business. Here's the address. Go check it out. Make sure to ask over the regular prices if he demands finer work."

[Brytan]

Shadows moving without something attached to it? The sunlight only touched the room briefly and for a moment Brytan noticed something moving at the window. He knew there was no one there, the window looked out over a fairly empty space. It had seemed unnatural, the way it avoided the sunlight.

As Brytan got up to try and get a closer look, moving to the window to see a bit more, his father entered with his errand. He did still work with his father, and he would be hard pressed to just ignore it. With a sigh he took the note, then he got an idea.

"Father, Marissa is speaking in riddles. She is talking about shadows and is terribly affraid. Perhaps we could light a fire or a candle to put her at ease, so she can sleep a bit?" And without really waiting for an answer he grabbed a candle from a nearby table and lit it with a tinderbox his mother always kept handy in the kitchen. He placed it close to Marissa, hoping whatever odd things he and she were seeing was as afraid of firelight as it was of sunlight.

"There sis, maybe that will help." He leaned over and kissed his sister's forehead. He winked at her as he got up. "I hope she'll be fine while I'm gone, I'll be back as soon as possible."

[Syra]

Wolter looked at his son with doubt in his eyes. He shrugged as Brytan already did what he proposed. "If you think it's useful..." The rest of his sentence was lost as Marissa's eyes opened at the kiss and she actually smiled at the candle.

"Thanks." She whispered. "You're the best brother. You know that, don't you?"

A note with the man's name and address was pushed in Brytan's hand and he was free to go, leaving his father to choose between worry for his daughter or pride because of his son.
[hr][/hr]The weather had not changed. The occasional sunbeam quickly hid behind dirty grey clouds, only adding to the oppressive atmosphere. Moods adjusted to the threatening thunderstorm, painting scowls on faces and making for short tempers.

"WATCH where you're going!" An older woman snarled as Brytan passed her. "Youths, always in a hurry! When I was your age I took my time to respect those of age!"

The address lead him to the higher levels of Roque, the streets rising slowly under his feet as he made his way to the upper levels of the Jewel of the Mer. Passing larger doors and more elaborate gardens Brytan moved through the gates seperating the merchants' section from that of the nobles. It was an extra defense in case of emergency, shielding the summerpalace and nobles' residences from the first waves of a possible fight.

The people he'd met on the way to Salmodion were nowhere to be seen, leaving the streets eerily empty.

Soon it became appearant that the goal was the solitary house in the middle of a relatively small garden. There were no ornamental trees or bushes, just a fair patch of grass and a large shed built directly to the house. The building itself consisted of two stories, built with the same white stones so typical for the nobles' mansions. A large double door sported a simple line of carvings as only decoration.

Sounds were coming from the shed.

[Brytan]

Brytan felt the tension in the air as he walked the streets once more. Relieved somewhat that his sister might at least rest comfortably to shake the fright that had overtaken her, he made his way up to the noble's quarters.

He had never heard of this Lord Farnine, but he estimated he hadn't heard of a fair number of people living in the city. Something he would have to rectify at one point. Information was always usefull, it could get a person anywhere, provided he knew how to use it properly.
He recounted the events of the past few days. From his strange encounters two days ago to the party yesterdaynight. "Hmm, I must not forget to pay Joni a visit today, see what he found out."

Musing his plans for the later part of the day he arrived at the house indicated on the piece of paper. It wasn't much compared to some of the houses he knew to be around here, but it was more than he could muster right now. "No sense in disrespecting something if you yourself can't expect to achieve it." ..."yet".
As he heard sound coming from the shed he figured he'd best go around and make himself known there. Most likely the lord had someone taking care of business for him, rather than adressing everyone himself. So he walked around to the entrance of the shed and as he stepped into the range of the doorway he carefully glanced in before stating; "Hello? Anyone there? I'm here for a skinning order."

[Syra]

Shouts were carried on the wind, too far away to really make out what they were saying. As soon as Brytan opened the door another source of noise reached his ears as a man commanded others to leave his house immediately: "OUT, you vermin! This is MY house and you are NOT WELCOME!" The tenor shouted. "I will lodge a COMPLAINT, you hear? A COMPLAINT!"

"There is no need to get upset, lord Farnine, really." A lower voice tried to calm the upset nobleman, but to no avail.

"WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE!" The voice thundered. "King Balthasar WILL hear of this, I assure you!"

"We are here on his orders, lord. Klaern's name is on the list. We are entitled to take him with us."

"And leave me without my cook! You are all insane! GET OUT!"

"He will fight for the greater glory of our Lord and king Balthasar." The other voice responded coolly. "A good day to you, sir. May the One watch over you."

Immediately footsteps followed, soon revealing the black and blue uniforms of King Balthasar's troops. A brownhaired man stepped outside, followed by his soldiers. They were accompanying a man in his thirties who carried a big bag of belongings. His face showed utter surprise as he looked back to the mansion he had worked in for so long. Finally he shrugged and simply followed.

"Halt!" The obvious commanding officer told the group as he saw Brytan at the doorstep. "You sir, your name." Immediately he grabbed the piece of paper with the order and Farnine's address from the young man's hand and read it with some interest. "A skinner, eh? Interesting. Your name came up in the investigation yesterday. Consider yourself lucky, because you are now part of the King's Own! No worry about persecution. Lucky man. Come along. We will send your family a notice."

Immediately the soldiers moved around Brytan, effectively cutting off all his possible exits. It was like the maze all over again, only this time there were no accusations, just...the draft.

ooc
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[Brytan]

As Brytan opened the door he overheard the shouts coming in more clearly than before. Apparently some poor sod was being taken by the King's soldiers. He had heard the stories at the noble's party, about the King expelling all pagans to Pax Balthasar, his tax plans and this morning he had even heard some old women whisper about a war.

"Apparently that last rumour was not far from the truth, if the king's men are out in the city grabbing able bodies from the streets."

Thinking that last thought, the soldiers came out, dragging along the man they had come to claim. That instant another thought shot through his head "They're drafting everyone these days, erh, hang on a second..."

"Halt!" The obvious commanding officer told the group as he saw Brytan at the doorstep. "You sir, your name." Immediately he grabbed the piece of paper with the order and Farnine's address from the young man's hand and read it with some interest. "A skinner, eh? Interesting. Your name came up in the investigation yesterday. Consider yourself lucky, because you are now part of the King's Own! No worry about persecution. Lucky man. Come along. We will send your family a notice."

"But, but, I have a job to do here. And, my sister, she has fallen ill. I have to..." But soon he figured there was no sense in resisting as the soldiers closed around him. "Gah, I'm a regular magnet for guys in uniforms. I always thought it was the other way around..." His parents would be shocked to find out he had been taken like this, but trying to get out of military drafting would be suicide. His father had met the same fate years ago, and the stories he had told had been great to hear, but probably not to endure. "Guess I'll be finding out soon enough..."

"Alright, I'll come along, no need to insist. But I have none of my tools or equipment with me..."

He was certain though that they wouldn't count on him skinning anything. At least, not the things he was used to...