(OOC: Please excuse my mix of photographs and concept art. I wanted to stick with the former, but this particular image from the latter is a favorite of mine.) ........... [i]The Castle of Westrock Sunrise[/I] There was protocol involved in one Noble receiving another when the latter had with him -- or her, if that were the case -- an armed escort. And, of course, Nobles [i]always[/i] traveled with an armed escort in these troubled days. Paul's arrival at the Castle the previous evening had been both similar to and different from the typical Noble visit: similar in that he had an experienced escort of 22 men, and different because -- by law -- the Castle was [i]his[/i] home. Paul had known that there was going to be some tension over his sudden appearance in Westrock. Despite having been away from what was now [i]his[/i] Duchy for almost a decade, Paul wasn't arriving entirely deaf, dumb, and blind: he's been employing scouts and informants, as well as collecting the occasional news and rumor, to gain a bit of an idea of the present situation in Westrock. And the situation wasn't a good one. Regent Lars Barker had managed to gain full and total control over the Duchy during not just Paul's absence but during the years prior to it, after Paul's father had left Lars behind to guard over, protect, and advise Paul's now dead brother, Richard. Oh, [i]legally[/i] Paul could simply enter the Castle, thank Lars for his service, dismiss him as Regent, and send him home to Ryrstone with thanks. But, it wasn't going to be that easy. The Law held little sway in this new world of might over right. And to make matters worse, in Westrock, Lars [i]was[/i] the law right now. No, Paul's path to the title of Duke of Westrock required more than just a bold announcement of [i]I'm back, get out, thanks for running my Duchy into the ground while I was away.[/i] No, Paul was going to have to bide his time, to look for allies within the Castle and Duchy, to build a loyal following, and only [i]then[/i] demand that Lars vacate the premises and go home... Following that [i]figurative[/i] path, the [i]literal[/i] path Paul and his Force had taken was to continue along the [url=http://i.imgur.com/8b2dUKc.jpg]Castle Road right past -- rather than through -- the Lower Gate[/url] and onto [url=http://i.imgur.com/lclaXNo.jpg?1]Portston[/url], which sat on the curve of the bay on the far side of the rise called -- for obvious reasons -- Castle Rock. They'd found a large Inn in which they took up the remaining rooms, as well as stables to board their horses and care for their aging equipment. The townsfolk had come alive with the sudden arrival of men -- and their coin -- but Paul made it clear that he and his men were to be let be for the night: no whores, little booze, but at least good food ... and [i]rest[/i]. He knew that this deprivation would raise red flags with Count Barker, who surely had spies watching the Force even before they'd patted the dust off their uniforms and saddles. But Paul thought that a good thing: let Lars sweat over the fact that 22 armed, well trained, and highly experienced warriors and their rightful Duke had just entered his town ... and were going to remain sober and alert through the night. Paul had slept well, confident that the Night Guard had been watching over both the Inn and the Stables, ready to raise the alarm if need be. He dressed and made his way down to the tavern, where many of his men were already engaged in devouring their first real meal in a week. He inquired about the night's excitement, learning that there hadn't been a shortage of [i]spies[/i] sneaking about the town, trying to get a better picture of what was what; but there hadn't been anything worthy of waking Paul or the other Guardsmen taking their turn at sleep. "What next?" one of the men asked Paul as he sat down to a mug of stream-cooled goats milk and a jam slathered biscuit. Paul bit into the surprisingly soft bread, moaning his appreciation to the cook who had come to stand near the Lord and fulfill his every request with haste. After he complimented her with actual words and politely gestured her away to her cooking, he employed the typical casualness that -- in times of trouble -- was often feigned relaxation, "We wait ... and see what the Count does next." .......... [url=http://i.imgur.com/AdYwwed.jpg?1]Crone[/url] had sent men to Sophia's home just outside of town the night before to quietly retrieve her, but when they hadn't found her he'd given them new orders: strip off those uniform items that identified them as servants to Count Barker and go out into the town to have a good time ... while keeping their ears open about the strangers who'd arrived under the banner of Lord Paul of Westrock. They'd learned a lot while spending the coin Crone had given them, but very little of the information was more informative than that which Crone could see with his own eyes, hear with his own ears. No, to learn what he wanted to know, he needed to get someone closer to Paul than that of just another man drinking ale and fondling whores in the Inn. And, of course, that was why he'd been looking for Sophia. She was the hottest piece of tail in Portston, a beauty beneath the layers of dirt she applied as part of her legitimate duties in the family's fields. And Crone knew just as well as Lars did that if anyone could get close to Paul, it was going to be the very energetic, very friendly, very skilled Sophia. Crone whistled as the girl passed by him on the street, heading most likely toward the Tax Collector's home. The treasurer had a bad habit of spending Duchy money on fulfilling his own personal needs, but Lars had let him alone because -- in his six years on the job -- the man had nearly doubled the Duchy's income, as well as [i]tripled[/i] the amount he skimmed off the top for Lars. "Someone arrived in town overnight while you were waxing some married man's cock," Crone told Sophia, not at all mincing words. He hesitated to see if she'd heard, and when it became obvious that the word hadn't filtered down to her yet, he informed her, "Lord Paul of Westrock." Crone saw Sophia's reaction, and his lips spread a bit wider in a knowing smirk. For ... what, two years maybe Sophia had had a special arrangement with Lars as to the possible future return of the rightful heir to the Duchy of Westbrook. Crone didn't know the specifics, but he was sure that it involved Sophia someday opening her legs and ears both to the man, then relaying all she'd learned to Lars. He continued, "The Black Raven. He and his men are there. Be casual about it, girl. He's not gonna tell a whore his plans if he thinks that whore is going to sell her information to the Count..." Crone let his gaze fall to Sophia's shapely body, then reached a hand out to fondle a beautiful young breast. He didn't react to her reaction, instead only saying, "Get this done ... or I'll see to it that your little sisters receive an invite to the Castle Watch barracks by sundown."