Gidja left swiftly, not wishing to emberass herself nor her superior any further. The captain said to fetch Eirik, the green one, so she went to do just that. She made sure to not get caught up in anything on the way there, as she had a tendency to do just that. Approaching the stairs she noticed the boy, standing at the balcony leaning on the wooden supports on the side, nodding his head down and back up, falling asleep slowly. If the captain saw that... Walking up on him she slapped his back, awakening him fully again. [b]“Wakey wakey, Eirik. We have to fetch some tradesmen who were dumb enough to travel to the Whitelands.”[/b] She rubbed her nose as she often did when speaking of foreigners. [b]“Don't they know the Weades' have little interest in trinkets?”[/b] she said, smiling at Eirik who cracked a smile in return. Together they left for the gate where they'd find the captain with some horses, talking to Vincent. Gidja knew Vincent a tiny bit, seeing him pass by every now and then when she was on duty in the courtyard. Never having talked, her opinion on him had always been something of 'he looks nice enough'. But that's just a general statement. [b]“Captain, we're ready.”[/b] she said softly, trying not to interrupt the captain as she mounted the horse, Eirik following suit. Deciding not to wait too long, she headed out the front gate already to take a quick look, Eirik slowly trotting the horse to somewhere between the captain and Gidja, not wishing to leave without the captain. Gidja took a quick look around and through the falling snow noticed a formation of riders. [b]“Captain, I think the caravan already found us. No need to r- wait.. where's the wagons? The man mentioned wagons. It's not the caravan. And they carry weaponry. Call Joakim!”[/b] her words went directed at the captain, and then into a more general statement. It didn't matter who called Joakim. [hr] Joakim was taking a stroll in the castle as he passed a slit in the wall for archers, hearing screams outside. [b]“Call Joakim!”[/b] it sounded, and realizing that it must be some sort of serious issue for him to be called, he immediately headed downstairs in the large stairwell that was on the right side of the castle. As he got downstairs he ran into a servant who had gone to fetch him, but he raised his hand at him and continued on his way. [b]“Fetch my sword and shield from the armory!”[/b] he managed to yell as he crossed a corner. He took the time while walking to fasten his belt tighter and quickly adjust his armor a bit, but missed his helmet. He'd have to do without. By God and his children, Joakim wasn't even sure what was coming. As he walked into the courtyard at a speedy pace he noticed the captain and Cregan, calling out to them. [b]“To me! What's going on?”[/b] Joakim had heard something about a caravan, that much Gidja had yelled out at the top of her lungs, loud as ever. And then something about armed riders. Without much time to prepare, and a stuck caravan that was out there apparently, Joakim issued some orders. [b]“Gidja, go on your way with that new recruit, and fetch the caravan. Cregan, Rolland, stick with me and see what these riders want.”[/b] By now the situation had gathered attention from others, too, including several soldiers of the bannermen that were called on by Joakim, and those that weren't completely drunk of ale went to stand by Joakim, attempting to listen in on what was being said. Riders? Armed? It would all sound very interesting to them, perhaps some fun to be had with would be knights, attempting to rob the Weades' of their riches. Or perhaps it was some famed traveler, that they could host a small combat competition with. Either way, they wished to see who was there. Joakim turned around as his servant reached him, and handed him his sheathed sword and the shield with the Old Oak emblazoned on it. Thanking him with a nod he quickly attached the sheath to his belt and put his hand on the handle of his sword, gripping his shield tightly with the other hand. Whoever was there would be matched in strength by a welcoming party, looking both menacing as well as diplomatic with Joakim, the young boy, standing at the front with Cregan and Rolland at his sides. Well, maybe that smith boy looked sort of imposing too, with his muscled arms. [hr] Gidja nodded at Joakim and reared her horse for the gate, Eirik in close pursuit. She pushed her feet into it's flanks and rode off, taking a quick glance at the approaching band of men, before riding off with her horse which kicked up snow behind them. Surely the riders would notice the shadow riding off into the snow. She just hoped they were more interested in the castle than in her. After some time of riding as fast as she could, the silhouettes of wagons doomed up in front of her, and if that wasn't enough to alarm her, Eirik made sure to point out the obvious. [i]“Gidja, it's the wagons.”[/i] She glanced at him with a semi annoyed look in her eyes. [b]“Thanks.”[/b] she grumbled at him, before bursting out laughing. What an idiot. Approaching the caravan fast, she hailed the man on the front wagon. [b]“Hail and welcome to the Whitelands. Just passing through then? Going to visit the whales in the north, sell them some trinkets?”[/b] Ofcourse, that could mean two things. ''The Whales'' could refer to the family of captain Rolland, who had a crest that was a whale or something. Supposedly they hunted whales, an incredibly dangerous.. but apparently fun way to pass the time and get some food while doing it. Besides that, whale bone was often carved into nice hangers and lockets, or sometimes even knifes. Mostly ceremonic.. well, that's what southerners thought anyway. And apart from Rollands family, she could also mean literal trade with whales. As in, setting up shop on a frozen beach and selling stuff to whales. The idea was more funny than when it was said, noticeable by the man responding with a firm 'No. Just lead us to the Wintershouse.' Gidja nodded and held her laugh in, pointing at Eirik and telling him to lead the way back. Greenie could use some training, she thought. Besides fighting, you'd have to deal with people a lot - people like this grumpy old tradesman. Ofcourse, Gidja didn't want to do boring stuff like leading a caravan so instead decided to check what was in the wagons. Productive, as there were some wares that were forbidden from trade in Borhilon - such as any cheese that wasn't yellowish in color. It seemed stupid, but the king had his mandates and the people were to follow suit. In that aspect, any cheese that was blue was not allowed to be traded, but if you made it yourself you were allowed to eat it. It was rules like that that came from a couple of mad kings, who were all crazy in their later years and made up royal laws that acted on the kings' superstitions or beliefs - more often than not, a result of so called 'witches and wizards' who would whisper things to the king for some coin. Passing by the last wagon, she saw a woman and a child huddled up in a bunch, shivering the both of them, but the child more so than the woman. The woman looked southern, and the kid looked like he crawled out of a roadside sewer in the big city. Most kids looked like that, though. Dirty bunch, especially boys. Most girls were pretty clean for children standards. [b]“He looks cold.”[/b] Gidja said softly as she made her horse trot behind the wagon line, continueing her conversation with these Southerners. [b]“You're from the South? Should've known to take some clothes with you. Gets cold here, much colder than this. You'll get used to it, might even grow on you.”[/b] she said to the boy with a smile. Her left hand went to her right shoulder swiftly and unclasped the cloak she wore, grabbing it before it could fall, and rolled it into a ball before tossing it at the two. [b]“Roll yourself in that. Keeps you warm - warmer than you are.”[/b] She started riding her horse forward again before slowing down, seeming to remember something. [b]“I want that back - it's mine. Killed a wolf for it, so it's not a cheap thing... might be some bloodstains left on it from when I hunted that wolf.”[/b] She cracked a grin at the boy and lady before riding to the front again, in an attempt to see how far they were from the castle. Not too far, it seemed. [hr] Gregar turned his head, and upon seeing Amber, rode off through the gate, under the portcullis and towards the direction of the Whitelands. He had no intent to stay in this land - not with murderous bastards that were seeking to take control of lands by force. What remained to be seen was which side would win - there were still people loyal to Amber, but it was doubtful they'd continue fighting for long if even Amber herself had fled the scene. Perhaps they'd go to the Whitelands, or perhaps they'd die. Gregar was too drunk to care, at that moment. After riding a fair amount, and surely crossing the border which lay close to the Mosskeep, the sun started rising again. They must've been riding for atleast 3 hours. Sighing, Gregar turned around and looked at Amber with a tired set of eyes almost shut. [b]“S-shall we rest here..”[/b] he mumbled, but didn't bother waiting for an answer as he'd made up his mind already. He dismounted from his horse and led it to an opening in the thick line of trees, where he'd tie it to a tree and sit down leaning against a pinetree. His head would fall backwards to follow example of his body, and get some support from the tree. [b]“They say that spirits of the children of god rest in these trees. Ever given it much thought? Not just any trees, I mean. Just pine trees. That would mean your lands have no spirits of any children. I don't think that's right - is there any superstitions about gods' children in your lands, Amber?”[/b] However, before she'd be able to answer, he'd have dozed off into a sleep far too deep to awaken him from unless she'd slap him. And knowing Amber, she probably wouldn't. Then again, the last time they'd met was a long time ago, and she had grown into a woman.. a fierce woman, at that. Perhaps she would slap him. If he pushed her hard enough. A grin curled onto Gregars sleeping face as he let out a few snores and grunts.