[color=goldenrod][i][h2][center]Gerard Segremors[/center][/h2][/i][/color] [@JessieTargaryen][@VitaVitaAR][@Crimson Paladin] [color=goldenrod]"Likewise, Dame Runa."[/color] he murmured in response, inclining his head in a small, slight nod at her greeting as his voice left his throat in a bit of a tense undertone, in spite of the ghost of a smile that had crossed his face in the exchange. Riding wouldn't allow for much else, and he wasn't one for sweeping gestures in the first place. [color=goldenrod][i]Let alone when things have developed in this direction. Not surprised to see Haelstadt with the Cal heiress, even if I count myself surprised at her being here.[/i][/color] Paladin Tyaethe was, as one might have expected, growing irate with how they'd been all but led around by their noses to only turn up more questions than they'd divined answers. Privately, Gerard found himself in agreement. Less privately, his brow furrowed once more, now that he was satisfied he'd covered for Runa's delay well enough. To begin with, so much of this had already flown over his head— the unnatural murder-suicides at the fort, the unexplained presence of the Pigs, why at all Alette was there, the shard of Angoron... He was pretty sure it all tied together somehow— it had to, really, otherwise there'd have been a cornucopia of coincidences at that fort that not even he could believe. But he'd yet to see how. They were trying to read a story that had been thrown into a fire, scrambling to find the right fragments of burnt parchment to figure out [i]what happened[/i]. Perhaps the cooler heads among them, the more seasoned, learned, and analytical, were tying the threads together in their minds— but he was squarely stumped. [color=ec474e]"Who's that?"[/color] Runa whispered softly, unable to place the face. Which reminded him, there was yet someone even more lost than he, through no fault of her own. He glanced at Sir Fleuri, who'd taken it upon himself to ride alongside and act as a fellow guiding hand— perhaps to the both of them. Gerard, after all, had not even a year on Runa's tenure. Were there anyone suited for the task, it'd be him, not somebody barely more experienced with proper knighthood. [color=goldenrod]"Veileena Cal."[/color] he replied again, gruff and low in his whisper. Given that something of a general murmur had sprouted in the mass of the small contingent that rode ahead of him, he leaned slightly to the side— not enough to throw his balance tremendously, but hopefully easier for the other two to hear. [color=goldenrod]"She's the daughter of the Traitor, Phoran, if I remember right. The big one's her bodyguard, Haelstadt. Don't know if we should worry about him. I am."[/color] And on [i]him[/i], Gerard's gaze wasn't wavering. He still remembered the clear aura of danger the man had worn like a cloak, even standing as an impassive decoration that evening at the ball. Behind that armor, reading him was a fool's errand. His body language was conservative, too, but in being so contained... Gerard got the feeling that his icy nerves weren't wrong. If this went sour, the big man would be trouble. It would be like fighting the aforementioned son of the Jodeau family. A tall task, unless the pacing Paladin decided to interject. Numbers would bring any one fighter down, but like Jeremiah before him, Gerard wasn't certain he couldn't bring a few of their number down in the process. [color=goldenrod][i]In that case, I'm the one going for him. I can't let that man get to anyone else.[/i][/color] He breathed deep through the nose, before exhaling a long, slow puff out the mouth. [color=goldenrod]"I don't know how they tie into it, but at the fort we'd apparently stumbled onto the aftermath of a shard of Angoron. The mercenaries that pointed you our way were mopping up the detachment of Golden Boars that were posing as the guards garrisoned— I think. Sir Fleuri and I only found a note leading here in the Captain's quarters."[/color] His eyes narrowed, wanting to look to either of his comrades but unwilling to leave the pillar of onyx that stood beside the Heiress. He was instead forced to speak. [color=goldenrod]"Sir Fleuri. I'm doing my best here, but this is throwin' me for a loop."[/color] he said, momentarily lapsing into his rural accent. [color=goldenrod]"Has been since day broke. You saw her at the ball, right? She wasn't acting against the kingdom then. You were certain."[/color] It wasn't a tone that questioned the older knight's judgement. Gerard held him in exemplary regard in all facets of knighthood, from courage to skill to etiquette. His instincts were no different from anything else on the list, and his word was ironclad. Was he a perfect judge of character? Nobody could be. However, as someone further along the path, Sagramore Gellert struggled to name a point when his advice wasn't sound. [color=goldenrod]"I'd kill for your read of what we've been caught up in, Sir. Aside from what we turned up a few hours ago, I'm lost as Miss— [i]Dame[/i] Runa is. Apologies."[/color] He had the kind of head that could tie the big picture together. That girl hadn't been too keen on the assassination plot that had sprouted in her family's crypt, if memory served— and didn;' speak terribly lovingly of her father, nor his actions. It had exonerated her of the entire affair before it had even come into question, so... What the [i]hell[/i] was she doing here, in a staredown with them and apparently expecting someone else entirely?