[center][color=#008b8b][h2]Fionn MacKerracher[/h2][/color][/center]
[hr][@Psyker Landshark][@VitaVitaAR][@Krayzikk]
[hr]

At Maletha's barely audible thanks, Fionn stripped off a gauntlet and patted her head before turning to walk deeper into the castle. While there was little he needed to grab, a more substantial belt to take the hauberk's weight would be far preferable to what he had at the moment—and a cloak to cover the mail and muffle his constant clanking and jingling would be useful in the event that the necromancer had anybody that escaped from the mausoleum scouting things out or preparing to seal the entrance. Unlikely, but if there were any such, he didn't want them getting alerted on his approach and entombing his friends.

Of course, by this point his approach was alerting other knights from their rooms, stepping out into the hall to see him go past. Some still fully dressed, others in nightclothes, yet others clearly having [i]just[/i] woken up as the castle started to spring back into activity. "MacKerracher? Weren't you just at a ball?"

[color=#008b8b]"Aye,"[/color] he replied, continuing along. [color=#008b8b]"Should've been there, lads."[/color]

"The hell's going on, Fionn?"

He turned to the next voice. The knight was a bit older than him, but not one he really knew the name of. [color=#008b8b]"Assassination attempt. Princesses are here now, assassin's in the infirmary, captain's hunting down a necromancer who started all of it."[/color] The knights standing in the hallway stared at him, likely just as shocked by his blasé explanation of events as by the events themselves. Of course, the fact that his borrowed gauntlets and hauberk were covered in blackened residue and scratches from the miniature devil that had appeared to try and finish the murder likely didn't help matters.

"What's the plan?"

He shrugged.

[color=#008b8b]"Grab a better belt and meet Renar at the stables to double back and help the captain down in the Cazt mausoleum. Come with if you like."[/color] With that, he passed the final few doors before finding the entrance to his own quarters, ducking inside quickly. A more substantial belt was quick to find, stripping off the one he'd been using and transferring his dagger over. Satisfied that the mail now wouldn't hang so heavily from his shoulders, he pulled one of his cloaks tight around himself, pinning it at his throat and stepping back into the hall. Noise was coming from the other rooms, but he didn't pay it much mind. Either they'd dress fast enough to meet at the stables or they'd catch up after the group started out, or they'd say behind.

Not really his problem at that point.

After a quick detour to the kitchen to gulp down something to keep his throat wet and take some scraps to eat along the way, he found Renar and Nicomede already waiting for him. [color=#008b8b]"Anybody coming up behind me?"[/color] he asked as he approached. He hadn't really been inclined to attempt any active recruiting for the task—even with the circumstances of his birth affecting things, Renar likely had more experience and comfort doing such than Fionn ever would. He preferred to just dive into things and let people follow as they would, whether that changed the number from three to five or to twenty.