[color=DarkGoldenrod][h2]Victor Moltke, Abigail Harlow and Meredith Shieldbreaker[/h2][/color]
[B]Location:[/b] Balaur, Moltke estate[hr][hr]

The sun shone hot and unforgiving upon the Balaurian soil but the lush and rolling hills of the Moltke family vineyards sucked up all the heat and sunlight in bushel after bushel of fat, ripening grapes. To look upon the flourishing wildlife in these acres and consider that, within the same nation's borders, the lash was cracking upon the spine of a sweatsoaked and grimy slave miner in a pit of gravel and dust was almost maddening. This chunk of southern land was well kept, maintained, and guarded by Victor's small military force as well as his peasantry who found the quantity of produce they were given as payment more than enough to trade and profit from. The place was an oasis in a dystopia, the product of decades of refinement and planning. It was Victor's magnum opus and his testing grounds. And, on this particular afternoon, it was also full of around a dozen yipping little Pomeranians.

Each pom had their own collar with an elaborate name plate studded into the back. Sir Leopold IV was busy relieving himself on the vines whilst Timothy Pilsworth Jr snuffled the overturned turf of a wagon track. A delegation of Pomeranians were also attempting to liberate themselves from their leashes, weaving and twisting them together as Lord Oswald Remington and Lady Welwing-Trillard II gnawed at the leather straps with unruly abandon. Abigail kept trying to disentangle herself from the chaos. A pom was bumping into her heels as she worked the leashes with a sort of frantic fluidity that comes from hastily learning how to deal with a litany of tiny dogs in a short space of time. Several places in front of her, Meredith and Victor strolled the less beaten path and took in the view with an air of quiet reflection.

Meredith actually had to pause for a half-pace as one of the dogs ran in front of her feet to deposit a stick for fetching. She looked at it, ignored it and kept going, which resulted in Abigail getting harangued by yet another tiny dog wanting to play. [color=DarkOliveGreen]“One of these days I'll step on your little hounds and it'll cost me a fortune in veterinary bills,"[/color] bemoaned Meredith to Victor. [color=DarkOliveGreen]“Why couldn't you get a real breed of dog? One that's actually useful around a farm."[/color]

[color=Crimson]”Because they always try to prove themselves. It’s almost poetic.”[/color] he stared affectionately at one of the many balls of fur scurrying around them, hands still clasped behind his back as he led their afternoon walk onwards amongst the buzzing of distant insects and chatter of his estates labourers.

[color=DarkOliveGreen]“Speaking of. Do you think your squire is ready?”[/color] Meredith didn't look behind her at Abigail, which was probably for the best as the girl was in the process of unwrapping a leash from around her leg. [color=DarkOliveGreen]“It's quite a delicate mission you're sending her on even without the threat of war hanging over us.”[/color]

[color=Crimson]”We were both taught to swim by being thrown into the deep end of the spring. So will she. Delicate, intense planning is just as important to seizing opportunities. Better now then before war comes any closer. Besides, I would rather send someone with complete loyalty to negotiate with people who are technically our enemy.”[/color] 

Meredith hesitated instead of retorting as she thought about what Victor had said. With some resignation, she exhaled grimly through her nose. [color=DarkOliveGreen]“You’re right. Had the peace talk attack never occurred, we wouldn’t be in all of this mess. Best to send her out early and see what she’s made of. I’m more partial to sending you, but we need you here to rally the other knights and nobles.”[/color]

[color=Crimson]”Exactly. We all need to pull our weight moving on from here.”[/color]

[color=DarkOliveGreen]“When will you be sending her out?”[/color]

[color=Crimson]”Now. Before the conflict escalates into either northern or southern lands. The North can’t afford to lock themselves into another drawn out war so they will most likely act decisively, whether it will be successful is up to them. We however can’t allow ourselves to be dragged into it but also want to be on the winners side.”[/color]

[color=Gold]”Now?”[/color]

The pomeranians were swarming Abigail’s ankles and yapping excitedly because she stopped walking. [color=Gold]”Wuh-...what do you mean now, you mean -now- now? As in, when we get back? B-but I’m not ready yet! I haven’t even packed!”[/color] Flustered, Abigail rushed over to the two knights and nearly tripped over a pom in the process.

[color=Crimson]”I’m not sending you to bear a nobleman's child. I’m sending you to negotiate on my behalf. This won’t be a grand ceremonial visit, it’s the -north- you’re going to. Discretion and speed is our top priority.”[/color]

[color=Gold]”So no Balaurian colours or anything? I guess I’ll wear some armour-...or at least pack some. What about documentation? What do I bring for paperwork, don’t you think the border controls will be more severe? Do they need anything from the manifesto?”[/color] Meredith took the leashes from Abigail almost out of habit as she wrangled the dogs and let the girl speak.

Victor finally turned to rest his gaze on her, [color=Crimson]”You’re fearful. Don’t be.”[/color] he commented before turning back to continue his walk which was now more of a long thoughtful pace. [color=Crimson]”It’s still -just- a diplomatic mission you’re being sent off on, not a bloody assassination. You’ll have a small retinue of guards along with you as well, nothing eye-catching, just enough for your own protection due to the… climate.”[/color] 

[color=Gold]”I’ve never had my own guards before. Do they have to like...sleep in the same room as me? Do they know as much as we do?”[/color] Abigail scurried along at Victor’s heels, anxiously fiddling with her hands and fingers now that she didn’t have any dogs to keep a hold of.

[color=Crimson]”What? They’re not dogs! They’re guards! They’re to follow your orders and keep you safe.”[/color] he paused for a bit. [color=Crimson]”They -are- like dogs. And if it’s your wish for them to so badly sleep in your room then those are details I ask you -not- to tell me about.”[/color] 

Meredith laughed loudly as Abigail went beet red and covered her face. [color=Gold]”N-no! Nonono! I’m a professional, I promise! I’ve just never had a guard before, that’s all!”[/color]

[color=Crimson]”You just focus on that wonderful charm of yours and getting our desires across to the houses of the north. Your escorts will worry about actually getting you there, whether that’s us having to go as far as to smuggle you across the border or just pass controls.”[/color]

Abigail rubbed her cheeks, still blushing furiously. [color=Gold]”M’not…-charming- anybody. I’m a professional,”[/color] she huffed. Desperate to get away from the conversation before Meredith inevitably took a jab at her to freak her out again, Abigail raised herself to her full height. [color=Gold]”Then I’ll have to get back to the estate and pack my things so that you two can check to see if I forgot anything before I leave. If you’ll excuse me...”[/color]

They had excused her, for a time. They let Abigail fuss and delay things, pack and re-pack and go around saying her goodbyes well into the afternoon. Yet the oncoming dusk hastened their need to get on the road in order to make some distance before dawn, hopefully using the cover of night to allow Abigail to slip away from the estate largely unnoticed. A trio of soldiers were selected for this task and they were stood - or rather, sat or lounging - by their steeds, lighting a pipe and waiting for the young heiress to finally emerge from her bedroom. Meredith had taken out some paperwork to do, having known around an hour ago that this was inevitable. [color=DarkOliveGreen]“You’re going to have to pry her from there,”[/color] she warned Victor. [color=DarkOliveGreen]“You know she doesn’t want to leave.”[/color] Her voice was soft and betrayed her concern for the squire but her actions showed her typical impassiveness to Abigail’s fragile emotions.

[color=Crimson]”She’s no babe. She will come.”[/color]

[color=DarkOliveGreen]“The last time she had to leave home she thought she was marrying you. That’s traumatic enough to make her stall.”[/color] Meredith offered him a lopsided grin in the half-light of the evening, swatting away an errant firefly.

[color=Gold]"No, no, I'm here.”[/color] Abigail came out with her pack and her riding gear, pale with her jaw set. 

[color=DarkOliveGreen]“You look like you're going to be sick,”[/color] Meredith commented.

Abigail shot her a look. [color=Gold]"In my defence, this is going to be a little bit harder than writing sums and walking dogs,”[/color] she retorted, rubbing her forearms as she braced against the cooling night air. She walked past Victor and ignored his studious glare as she saddled Munchkin and made a quick inventory check. The other guards were roused into action, similarly checking the stirrups and girths on their Balaurians to make sure that everything was ready for a long ride.

[color=Crimson]”The Journey will be long and if all goes to plan many things will have changed here by the time you’re back. Hopefully for the better.”[/color] he stood before the girl, hands finally unclasping from behind his back.

[color=Gold]”If I make it back at all, that is.”[/color] The tone was light-hearted but the expression was uncertain. Abigail clutched onto a stirrup for dear life.

[color=Crimson]”You will. You are still one of mine.”[/color] he reached out to pull her into a deep hug. [color=Crimson]”And do not forget that. Do not let anyone talk down upon you, keep your head high no matter how they choose to respond to you.”[/color]

Abigail chuckled weakly. [color=Gold]”Even when you're trying to comfort me you still throw in a couple of orders...”[/color] but she trailed off, hugging him back tightly and pressing her face into his chest. Her shoulders shook for a brief moment but she regained her composure and finally let go. Mounting her pony, Abigail took one last look at the sprawling hills of the Moltke estate and trotted down the path onto the main road, heading northward for a long and arduous journey.