As soon as the band of riders had reached the castle, Joakim would step forward, his sword still sheathed but his hand resting on it warily. Behind him was the small band of warriors that had gathered, but given the fact that there were many lords visiting with their own following, the group was much larger than it would be if this had happened throughout any period earlier than the death of Joakim's father. [b]“Welcome to the Whitelands, traveller. I take it you are here to rest from the cold weather?”[/b] The young boy would stand readily, looking at the pack leader with eyes of a warrior - not a politician or lord. The added presence of Cregan and Rolland would make it pretty clear that the boy was not a lord of sorts, but a replacement or even an invaluable guard captain. He was not, but that was besides the point.

Joakim would look at the men and their outfits. They were out of place, outlandish almost. Resembled the Northern tribes in some way, but those had been conquered nearly a hundred years ago. [b]“... you have travelled a long way, have you? Where are you from? You look Northern, the lot of you, in dress, but not you, big man.”[/b] He would direct himself to face Kaz, the biggest of them all, and also the most imposing. [b]“Your armor is different. I would like to know more.”[/b] Any thing of martial importance was interesting to Joakim, given his bring-up and interests. Furthermore, there were foreign influences on the armor that were not from Borhilon. A traveller from the West? Perhaps, unlikely but perhaps. 

The boys eyebrows raised, before he would step forward. A couple of soldiers behind Joakim raised their shields, and put themselves on edge, making ready for.. whatever the young lord regent was planning. But the boys hand left the hilt of his sword, and instead went forward, an invitation to shake hands. [b]“I'd like to welcome you to my halls. I take it your men have tents?”[/b] While waiting for an answer he'd face around, nodding to Cregan and Rolland. He was hoping that it would put them and the rest at ease. [b]“Your men can camp outside the palisades of the village. You, yourself, are welcome in my halls. If you'd agree, I'd like to speak to you about your weapons and armor. ..You are.. not from Borhilon, are you?”[/b] Well, that was obvious, but the question was more [i]where[/i] he was from if not Borhilon. Somehow all the events of the day had caused the day to progress relatively fast, and it was quite dark outside - a sign that morning would come quite soon.

[hr]

Gidja was about to ride for the gates ahead of the caravan, just to make sure that Joakim was alright with the riders, but then she noticed a rider in the distance through the thick snow. A rider with heavy armor none the less. Perhaps a hedgeknight, or perhaps just a figment of her imagination. [b]“Eirik, I see a rider over there. Guard the caravan while I go see what he wants. Here I was hoping this'd be a quiet night..”[/b] Giving him a small nod as comfort she turned the horse to the side and rode for the rider, and as she got closer noticed his black armor. 

Not usually a good sign, that. [b]“HAIL!”[/b] she said in a loud tone, gripping her spear tighter as she closed the distance. [b]“State your name and bussiness traveller! This is not a good time to be riding about, especially with this blizzard picking up. Now, if you hurry, we can get back to the Wintershouse in time without having to trudge through the snow.”[/b] She aimed her spear at him, subtly just in case. Black armored knights were generally not the friendliest people around, and the Whitelands had the luck to not see many of them. It made her wonder.. what was this man doing so far North.

[hr]

Gregar grunted as he got woken up, in a particularily rude fashion. [b]“Damnit Amber.. I was just dreaming.”[/b] He grinned at her and slowly got up, rubbing his back slightly to alleviate the soreness he got from leaning against the tree. [b]“Alright, are we heading for the Wintershouse then? We can find a company of mercenaries there no doubt to bring you back your throne. No rush, though. You should profit from some time away from your duties.”[/b] The lighthearted comments were starting to come out now that he wasn't required to be more courtly than he really was. [b]“I'll show you the gardens - they are lovely this time of the year. All covered in white snow. Now that I think of it, they're not much different than any other time of the year.. you should probably skip the gardens. Try our wine.”[/b] He smiled at Amber in a friendly manner and walked over to his horse where he'd pull on the saddle, ensuring it was well attached. 

Slowly he climbed up, grunting slightly and rubbing over the back of his knee, where a wound from the war was obstructing movement at the moment. It might've opened up last night, something he'd have to get looked at in the Wintershouse. He turned the horse towards the road again, calling on Amber to follow him swiftly or get left behind. Then again, Amber was probably already ahead of him.