The knights' return trip was uneventful, despite the prisoners they were transporting and their prisoners' former captives. The former had no morale left to speak of, with their leader decisively crushed and the veterans either dead or reminded just how large the gap between even experienced soldiers and a legendary knightly order could truly be. The freed prisoners, on the other hand, only strained their resources but temporarily, splitting off along the trip to return to their homes where possible--or to at least salvage what they could, where the bandits had destroyed more than they took. The knights' own injuries had been light for the most part, and whilst some care was needed to transport the injured, it neither demanded haste nor slowed them any further.

Aimlenn had been built long, long ago, construction having begun shortly after Thaln itself was founded. In spite of the country's embattled history, the capital had never wavered, never fallen. Its tall, strong walls held fast. Aimlenn, among the people, was known as the fortress-city, as the white-grey stone walls, lined with sturdy towers, were a sight known far and wide across the land.

The immense steel and wood gate stood before them. In this time of peace, it remained open, and Fanilly led her knights through it.

The streets bustled with activity, merchants transporting goods, citizens going about their business, and as they headed in further, nobility and the rich with their entourages of guards, maids, and manservants walking the street. What was universal to all these people is the glance they cast up as the Iron Roses entered. Many, especially the average citizens, looked on in awe as the knights of legend proceeded in, taking with them what could only be those bandits who had hurt and killed so many.

The guards, many of them soldiers of Thaln, cast dark glares towards the prisoners.

The stone fortress that was home to Aimlenn's garrison and prison soon received the bandits. Their fate was essentially sealed, an execution would greet them. Barring some sort of sudden reprieve (which seemed highly unlikely, to say the least), they were set to die for their murders and thefts.

Onwards, the knights went, winding through further streets and towards Candaeln, situated near the royal castle. Once a purely defensive building, over time it had been modified, and its most obvious defensive feature remained the moat. The walls themselves, although thick, had far too many windows, many with stained glass displaying roses, to truly be a defensive structure, and gleaming blue tile covered rooftops that may once have been navigable battlements.

Some took the horses around to courtyard's external entrance, the part of the building that most retained its old function as a site of war, whilst others entered the building on foot, through the main doors and under the iron rose itself. Inside, they were greeted with floors of spotless wood, clean and varnished; the walls carefully plastered and painted over. Throughout, relics of the past were artfully arranged--the weapons and armour of prestigious knights, portraits of captains past and other notables. Rare was the hallway or room that would lack any adornment, even if a strange number of landscape paintings could be found mixed amongst them all.

Closest to the entrance, in a place of honour, was the Saint's Blade, the Starlight Sword, Bane of the Vos Korvungand. The sword that had taken the head of Meryn the Kinslaughterer. The weapon that had pierced the heart of Volkstraad the red dragon. The silvery, almost ethereal-seeming blade of the Starlight Saint of Roses, lay carefully locked inside of glass case. The blade was strong, but elegant, a sharp tip and a razor edge with a star-shaped crossguard.

Soon after they entered, the captain and various knights split to go their different ways, an order of rest granted. Of course, no sooner had the captain gone to attend to her own matters, a courier arrived at the entrance, bearing a message...

[hr]

[h2]Tyaethe[/h2]

The vampire was particularly glad to be done with travelling and out of the sunlight, having been carefully angling a parasol for a good deal of the return trip as the weather grew fair and bright. With little in the way of unpacking to do, Tyaethe took but a few minutes to change into casual clothing before returning to the same spot anyone knew to look for her.

Within the halls and rooms of Candaeln, there were numerous bay windows offering a sight over the courtyard--some gave a particularly unimpressive view of the smithy's work (fortunately, it was mostly the kitchens that had to deal with such clamour), whilst others looked over the gardens nearest the chapel. Some, however, gave a view over the main courtyard itself, the clear space most often used for sparring or training of one kind or another. One of these windows lay in the former gatehouse turned entrance hall, within easy sight of the founder's sword and armour. In fact, the position of case and window made it easy for anyone occupying the window seat to see that the sword was there.

What really made it stand out, when the knights were otherwise engaged, was how none of the other seats in the building appeared to have acquired quite so many mismatched cushions over time. The rest of the time, the most notable thing about it was likely to be the vampire that could be found there, either watching out the window at the knights training, or keeping a constant guard over the relics that lay within.

It also made it the ideal place to leave missives intended for the paladin. In this case, a carefully sealed letter, with her name marked both in the common letters used by the various kingdoms and the old elven script Talderia had derived it from. She raised an eyebrow at it, but set it aside to read later, pulling herself onto the seat as always and tilting her head slightly to keep an eye on the sword.

"Well, that should be the last of the rebels cleared, or at least all the soldiers," the girl reported, sighing, "We even got off lightly on the casualty front, for all that the bandits managed to capture a griffin. Still, I don't like the order's chances, Elly; we've lost too many veterans. If the new lot don't shape up soon, they're going to be in real trouble if something like Maglad shows up, or we get badly outnumbered..."