[center][h2][color=skyblue]Marque de Bourdeaux[/color][/h2][/center]

The last several hours had become incredibly trying. It was one matter to lose the theater, his home for all intents and purposes, to an accidental blaze. It was another entirely for the theater's master to vanish and to be blamed for both. Luckily Marque could take on a new face, a new role, as easily as one could put on a new set of garments. And so here he was, near the entrance to the Glittering Wood where rumor said Gardevior had been seen. Rosanne certainly had been a reliving sight. Disguised as she was, he still had no trouble identifying her, which said more as to their relationship than it said of her skills as an actress. 

[color=skyblue]"Capital ideas, as always my angelwing."[/color] Marque moved in closer, took her hand, and lightly kissed it. [color=skyblue]"Out intentions were cut from the same cloth it would appear, for I also made journey to this cottage for the same reason. Hark, another approaches the tracker's home. Let us watch from a distance."[/color]

The actor stood aside to observe the goings on from behind a nearby tree. After several moments of nothing after the man had knocked upon the cottage door, it had finally been answered and the reason for such delay was immediately clear. The resident's legs had certainly proven to be in sorry condition. Was this really the tracker they needed? Perhaps if he were to be carried by donkey-cart, but otherwise such a man would likely be more burden than boon. Then a second man approached, this one riding atop a steed. From his attire and equipment he appeared to be a knight, or squire in training. This bode ill if such a man served the Lord Bryce and his guardsmen. Marque's status as being wanted for arson did not agree with such individuals. Luckily, the clever actor hatched a scheme in his dynamic and adaptable mind.

[color=skyblue]"I believe I have a plan to recruit our tracker, as well as gaining favor with that chivalrous sort there,"[/color] he began to quietly explain, applying just the right amount of make-up to his face. A change of clothing would have been preferable considering the circumstances, but what he wore now would do in a pinch. [color=skyblue]"The Lord Bryce's son is known to walk among the people as a drifting sort, and so his face is not well known, yet he still commands authority and respect. Tis a risky gamble, and I may be beheaded for treason, but all the same wish me luck, my angelwing."[/color]

Marque quickly kissed Rosanne again, this time on the cheek, before approaching the cottage and the three men positioned in its doorway. Instantly his stride adopted an entirely new gait, his posture improved with but a thought, and his body language shifted entirely to a more regal, commanding one. He had to instill his authority with these men, but without overdoing it. The Lord Bryce's son was a drifter, after all, so some informalities should be expected. Thankfully it was the very circumstance that would explain his lack of personal guard.

[color=skyblue]"Hail, good citizens! I am Favian, son of Lord Bryce, heir to this land. My travels have brought me back home and in dire need of a tracker. Speak now, if you would, is this the home of one Lorenzo of Windor?"[/color]