The town of Bonnershaven was clearly a prosperous one. As Calliope and her escort rode in the townsfolk made way for them respectfully. The citizenry seemed cheerful and in good humor, many of them wearing ribbons, rosettes and other signs of the upcoming harvest festivals. The streets were broad and neatly cobbled, lined with neat shops and half timbered dwellings.


“At least it will be easy to provision,”  Kayden observed, his tone a little disdainful as they swept a couple of city watchmen playing dice in front of a tavern. They didn’t look like much to Calliope, though she supposed an expert like Caradwalden would find more faults than she could in the slovenly plumpish men.


“I’m somewhat surprised they are so lax this close to Blackfire Pass,” Calliope observed. Kayden made a gesture tilting his hand first one way then the other.

“Don’t judge the greenskins by the pace of my people,” he cautioned her, a note of pride in his voice.

“They can flair up quick for sure, but they would waste time looting and burning as they  moved west, by the time they got here people would have plenty of warning, and have sent west for aid from the bigger towns towards Nuln, all they would have to do is fort up and sit tight until help arrived,” he explained. Looming ahead of them Bonnershaven keep seeming to make his point for him. It was a massive castle built onto a large stone outcrop with several circular towers. A large moat, partially natural but supplemented by the work of picks and shovels, separated it from the city proper with a large stone bridge the only method of access. The size and style of it looked more Brettonian than the Imperial style she had seen closer to Altdorf and she said as much.

“Guns,” Otto replied, breaking into the conversation for the first time.

“Altdorf has to worry about civil unrest and a few cannon make short work of tall stone walls, that is why they are so much thicker and lower, to withstand shot. They don't have to worry about the greenskins bringing a siege train.” They were moving across the bridge at a trot now and passing under a great gatehouse. The soldiers here looked little better than the city watch, but at least they were at their posts. 
“Lady Calliope Blackwood and companions!” the periwigged major domo announced before rapping the butt of an ironshod staff on the flagstones. The Baron’s audience chamber was a large chilly stone room, somewhat warmed by the lush tapestries which had been hung on every available surface. The tapestries seemed to depict hunting scenes for the most part, and there were enough stuffed animal heads to suggest that the baron or his forebears were keen hunters. The current baron was young, perhaps not yet twenty and he lounged on a wooden throne looking board with proceedings. Calliope walked the dozen paces to stand in front of the youth. She offered a curtsey that was shallow enough to make the boy sit up with a slightly irritated look in his eyes.


“An honor to meet you Baron Von Wrolth,” Calliope said politely.

“And you Lady Blackwood, though I confess I have not heard of your family,” he replied, looking her up and down with the combined frankness of a young man and an aristocrat used to getting what he wanted.

“We are an Averland family my lord, northern Averland close to the Moot,” she provided. She might as well have declared she was from the moon for all the comprehension or interest the boy seemed to show in that.

“And what brings you to Bonnershaven?” Von Wrolf asked, his tone clearly indicating she should move it along.

“My men and I merely wish to pass through your territory my lord, there are some hundred men under arms in addition to my company here,” she clarified. Von Wrolf sat up at this, clearly surprised. 


“You have an army?” he demanded. An older man in a rust colured doublet, clearly a senior advisor leaned in and tried to whisper something, but the Baron waved him off with irritation.

“Hardly an army my lord,” Calliope replied smoothly, “merely some troops I am maintaining, I have certain claims I wish to press back in Averland and am travelling there. We would be pleased to purchase provisions and the like in the normal course of things.”
“Well so long as they don’t enter the city…”


The doors to a side chamber flew open and a tall man in emerald robes all but ran into the room. He was handsome and athletic looking despite the gnarled staff he gripped in one hand.

“My lord! This woman is not who she claims to be!” the newcomer snapped. There was a rasping of steel as a dozen guards drew swords. The Baron, fully wake now, all but started to his feet in confusion.

“She is Calliope the Black, a sorceress of the Amethyst College and of ill reputation besides,” the green clad man declared.

“Ranulf?” Calliope asked, arching an eyebrow in surprise. He gave her a sidelong glare but didn’t respond.

“Is this a true witch?” the advisor demanded, stepping between Calliope and the Baron. Otto stepped forward and slapped the man hard across the face. 


“How dare you, we will meet on the field and…” further words were drowned out by shouts and scrapes as the guards closed in and panicked hangers on began to flee. The wizard, Ranulf, lifted his hands and began to chant but Calliope thrust out a hand and he crumpled to his knees clutching his stomach.

“ENOUGH!” Calliope roared, her voice howling like the wind through a graveyard. The sonic shock of it momentarily stunned the assembly.

“Sir Otto will withdraw his challenge, if his opponent will agree to keep a civil tongue in his head,” Calliope declared. She let her hand drop and Ranulf gasped in relief. Almost idly, she kicked the staff away from him, sending it skittering across the floor.

“Mon dieux!” a mustachioed Brettonian in a rich cream doublet remarked, shaking his head at the crudity of Imperial Court life.

“Are you truly a w…sorceress?” Baron Von Wrolf demanded. Whatever else the boy was he was certainly no coward having hardly flinched when the situation seemed close to violence.


“I am a Magister of the Amethyst Order,” Calliope confirmed, drawing gasps from some of the assembled crowd.

“I am also Lady Calliope Blackwood, Calli the Black is something of a play on my familial name,” she explained.


“Yet you did not introduce yourself as such?” Von Wrolf asked. Calliope shrugged.

“I am not required to, nor is it appropriate in this company, you might just as well introduce yourself as Von Wrulf the Hunter,” she explained. The baron seemed unconvinced and he cut his eyes to his battered advisor.


“Very well, you will provide my major domo with the location of your camp, once we are sure your men are of no threat you will be permitted to pass, and to purchase such supplies as you require,” the Baron declared.

“My Lord…” Ranulf interjected, having regained his feet but not yet having had the courage to try to retrieve his staff. The boy held up his hand to silence the wizard.

“You may go Lady Blackwood, the rest of you, this audience is over.” Calliope was already striding from the room before the major domo’s staff struck the floor.