Time has passed with the measured pace of a properly wound clock. Certain events however, seem stalled as if by a broken spring. Gergesene has been awaiting a response from either Lord Ruthven, or Baron Phelan, and none was forthcoming. Until this morning, when a summons arrived from both. The Korv is now in the main practice yard of the keep, making his decision.

Gergesene frowns to himself as he considers the summons. Brother Salvatori was wounded – perhaps gravely, and we Korvs cannot take so great a hurt as the more robust Cervani. But after so much time, either Brother Salvatori is out of danger, or he has departed to a better life. He hops down the sawdusted ground of the yard, looking for a fellow knight whom he knows, who might accompany him upon his visit in either case…

Several of the Landsknechts are involved in practice and training. A few spar in assigned sections, under the review of other knights. In most cases wooden weapons are used, but the enthusiasm of the swings can still produce serious bruises. The yard echoes with the crack of the weapons against shield, or chitin armour.

Gergesene recognizes many of the knights present. One in particular is memorable, as the Landsknecht who brought Mage Talia to the keep in secret. Presently this knight, Sir Steinhardt, is involved in a practice battle with another Cervani. The two combatants have stepped apart, readying themselves for another assault on each other.

His blade held ready, Steinhardt watches warily, waiting for an opening, or for the other to make the next move. Patience . .

The other knight, Sir Amruk, shifts his stance carefully, looking for an opening. His blade has a much shorter reach than Steinhardt's two handed weapon, and the knight is not one to fight defensively either. With a bellow Amruk charges, swinging from the outside to Steinhardt's ribs, low on his left side.

Gergesene thinks. It frustrates him that Baron Phelan has taken so long to respond to a simple inquiry, when the life of his own guardsman is at stake. By comparison, if in fact the Palace guards acted at the orders of Lord Ruthven, they showed themselves possessed of a certain honor. That poor Shem, for instance… Yes, he decides to himself. The Star will be better served to see Lord Ruthven first. He may be advised that certain lords are working to his disadvantage, and bringing dishonor upon themselves… For that matter, he cannot be sure that his welcome at Phelan's manor in Blitzheim would be any more hospitable than the one they showed the Palace carriage. The Korv looks over the fights, scanning the combatants.

Lowering sword and shoulder, Steinhardt meets the charge, blocking his opponent's blade with his own. His shoulder slams into Amruk's shield, overbalancing the other Cervani.

Gergesene ahs! Sir Steinhardt. He pledged his support to a campaign against the hated land of Bosch with us, the Korv recalls. He would be a worthy companion, and in truth, since the lad seems to have been designated a guard of the Mage Talia, he should know what it is that he guards…

Amruk stumbles, his hooves misplacing as the other knight leans into his shield. His balance is regained with a step past Steinhardt, one that unfortunately leaves his back open…

Instead of taking the opening and striking, Steinhardt instead steps quickly away, again readying his blade and waiting for the other to turn.

One Landsknecht off to the side points to Amruk. He leans to the younger Cervani by his side and notes, "Now see, he was caught off balance, and ended up exposing himself… " Fadyr looks back up then, watching for anything else that deserves comment. He grins slightly to himself at trying to teach Jael some of what he needs to know to be a squire, even if it may only be for a short time.

Amruk swings wildly, first with his shield trying to cover his open back, then his blade in a slash to Steinhardt's back. Neither attack nor opponent is where he expects – his shield blocks empty air and his blade passes underneath the other knight's.

Gergesene tsks to himself, taking notes. A good hearty slap on the back, that would have reminded Sir Amruk to be careful about that. The enemy takes no quarters…

Gergesene brightens up, seeing Fadyr. Another stalwart! He hops over to the other Cervani by the side of the fight.

Jael, or Devon as he is now known, nods as he watches the exchange. His eyes are wide and his attention held so tightly that he has no reply.

Fadyr starts to make another comment, but catches sight of the Korv first. "Ah! Sir Gergesene!"

Gergesene beak-smiles and inclines his head to Fadyr and his squire.

Fadyr asks Gergesene, "Have you any news?"

As his opponent regains his equilibrium, Steinhardt moves forward, heavier blade arcing towards Amruk's right shoulder.

"Indeed," the Korv assures Fadyr as he watches Steinhardt's attack. "The Lord Ruthven will be pleased to grant us an audience. We also have a summons from Baron Phelan… But I am of a mind that Ruthven is the more important of the two. He certainly ought to be told of the dishonorable actions to which Phelan's guards have resorted! Imagine, excusing one's assault upon an innocent child by claiming some sort of nebulous evilness on the part of a noted lord… " He sniffs disdainfully.

Jonas, hearing the familiar sounds of combat, wanders out of the keep to investigate. At the sight of the Landsknechts drilling, he grins and settles in to watch.

Fadyr frowns slightly. "Aye… " Certainly, the Cervani cannot condone the guards' attack, but Gergesene's utter faith in Ruthven seems to be blinding the Korv. Then again, maybe it's Fadyr who's looking for shadows where there are none. He sighs. "I worry for Brother Salvatori, it would be comforting to have some news of him at the least."

Amruk blocks with the flat of his own sword, moving in. His guard almost collapses, forced over by Steinhardt's swing enough that the two-handed weapon slaps against his armour. Stepping forward, Amruk hooks the edge of his shield into Steinhardt's right elbow and lifts. His shorter blade slides along the length of Steinhardt's as he stabs in over the hilt at the other Cervani's throat.

Devon takes his eyes off the exchange for a second, long enough to wave at Gergesene, then goes back to observing the blows.

The Korv frowns. "Aye, I too. But how many opportunities has Baron Phelan had to allow his prisoners to send us word, at least, so that we may know they are alive? No, it must be some dark machination that he engineers… " The Korv gives Devon a wingpat on the back. "But fear not, young lad. The light of the Star shall burn away all such triflery."

Jonas leans against the wall of the keep, watching the two Cervani spar.

Fadyr crosses his arms, turning back to regard the sparring. "It may be that we can speak with both then, we ought to anyway. Perhaps we should go soon, though. I, for one, would feel more at ease with a few answers," he says while watching.

Reacting quickly, Steinhardt shoves hard, dodging aside and back… but not soon enough, as the tip of the shorter blade impacts solidly against his armour. 'Dead.'

Jonas mutters quietly, "Or close enough, in any matter."

"Indeed," agrees the Korv. "I had thought to ask our friend hither to join us. As the guard of an acquaintance of ours and one who sees the value of a campaign against Bosch, he deserves to know what it is that we are about."

Amruk stagger steps back, catching his balance again. He grins, "Ah, well fought! I was open there, you should have taken it."

Fadyr nods to Gergesene. "Aye."

Lowering his blade, Steinhardt shakes his head, then grins at the other knight. "Aye; well fought, indeed. Mayhap I shall win some other day, but I could not, in conscience, strike at the back of another knight."

Steinhardt expels a heavy breath from his lungs, "Exercise enough, 'twas, at any rate."

Jonas pushes off of the wall and walks over to Gergesene, Fadyr, and Devon. "Grace upon ye, friends. What news?"

Gergesene kaws to Steinhardt. "Ah! Good day to you, fellow knight, and are you free for a little visit this afternoon?"

"Better you in practice than some Titanian or fiend of Bosch. Still, I can do without the bruise back there, and appreciate the victory. My thanks Sir Steinhardt." Amruk smiles again, bowing as Gergesene approaches.

Jael looks up at Fadyr, "How long do I have to practice before I'm allowed to spar?" His expression is both hopeful, and fearful.

Fadyr chuckles and nods a greetings to Jonas. "We appear to be off to see Lord Ruthven soon."

Jonas grunts at Jael/Devon's question. So eager, at that age.

Jonas says, "Ah. Then we kin get part of the truth then."

Fadyr pats Jael's shoulder, looking to him. "Well, that rather depends… If you wish, though, I will start teaching you when we have the time."

The young deer scrapes his hooves against the ground, "Well, some of it looks fun. I'd like to learn." He smiles up at the Landsknecht.

Steinhardt carefully swings his blade over his shoulder and moves to clap Amruk on the shoulder. "My appreciation for the practice. Ah… Sir St. Germain, fair day to ye." He nods to the approaching Korv.

Fadyr smiles a bit. "Aye then, lad, next chance we get, we can begin."

Jonas pats Jael on the shoulder. "Fun it may look, lad, but it is a serious thing."

Sir Amruk sheaths his blade, and returns the friendly gesture. "Mine to you also. Well, I'll see who else I can challenge this day. Hello Sir St. Germain." He bows to the Korv.

Gergesene adds, as Amruk starts to turn away, "A well fought battle, and indeed, it was good of you not to take advantage of the opening – but do not be so chivalrous to an opponent of Bosch." The edges of his beak, where his face-muscles attach, curve up in a smile.

The victorious Landsknecht leaves the other two, and joins the audience in a nearby battle.

The edges of Steinhardt's mouth quirk upwards, "Good Sir, should I face as opponents the spawn of Bosch, 'twould be merciful to deprive them of their existance."

"Maybe I should just stick to my mechanics." The young stag replies to Jonas.

Gergesene conducts Steinhardt over to where Fadyr stands, explaining as he goes. "Knowing as I do your steadfast nature, and inasmuch as you have been commissioned with the guarding of a certain friend of ours, I had hoped that you would be free to join us in a small visit to Lord Ruthven. If you aren't otherwise occupied today?"

Jonas smiles. "There's no shame in that. From what I have seen, these machines do a great deal of good fer yer people."

Fadyr looks to Jonas, then back to Jael. "Aye, that is a choice you must make, lad," he offer gently.

Jonas says, "I just want ye to know that soldiering is serious business. Many a lad joins an army fer the wrong reasons, and too many wind of getting themselves hurt, or worse, because of it."

Jael looks up at Fadyr and Jonas, "but… you're heros. Why did you join Sir Rainscroft?"

After carefully returning his six-foot blade to its sheath upon his back, the stag nods to Gergesene, "I have nothing planned for this day that cannot be done another time."

Loud blows and the occasional grunt of pain continue to be heard in training yard as the other Landsknechts test their skills.

Steinhardt nods to Fadyr, Devon, and Jonas as he approaches. "Fair day, gentlemen; it'un."

"Most radiant," the Korv enthuses. "In truth it will be good to have another companion whom we can trust in these difficult times." He calls to Fadyr, "Ah! Found Jonas, have you?"

Jonas says, "'Cause 'tis my duty, lad. A job. To protect those who might be hurt when people fight."

Fadyr looks down and chuckles softly. "Family duty and… well… it gets a little complicated, and is something that can certainly wait." He looks up, nodding to Gergesene and Steinhardt. "We seem to be assembled… "

Jonas looks up. "Well fought, Sir Steinhardt, from what I saw of it. Ye let him get too close, but that's the difficulty with a claymore, isn't it?"

Jael nods, bowing to Sir Steinhardt as he approaches, and standing a little closer to Fadyr.

Gergesene hms. Is it proper to bring the lad along? He should be safer here, to be sure…

Steinhardt chuckles softly at the bear's comment, "Indeed, but for each weapon, there is a strength and weakness. Perhaps we should exchange techniques at some time in the future; indeed it might be… interesting and informative."

Jonas grins. "P'raps."

Gergesene suggests to Fadyr, "While we're off for the day, perhaps you should set young Devon here to some classes? The lad will surely enjoy a little instruction in the use of weapons. Or perhaps a trip to the library… "

Devon brightens at the suggestion of the library. "I could read about the great triumphs of the Landsknechts. The histories are really interesting."

Jonas grunts. "And ye could also read about the strategy behind those triumphs, lad. There's more to war than fighting."

Gergesene kaws, "Indeed! When I was a mere fledgling, lit'un, they were my great comfort – there were very few other fledglings around, you see. Do you know where it is then, lad?"

The young Cervani nods, "Yes. Should I go there now? Where should I go afterwards?"

Fadyr chuckles. "A good question… one moment." He calls out, "Sir Amruk! If you have a moment?"

Sir Amruk turns from the session he is watching and approaches. "Yes Sir Steinhardt, Ready for another round already?"

Jonas mutters something to Gergesene under his breath about the armourer needing some help with a few broken swords.

Gergesene raises his eyeridges.

Jonas grins nonchalantly.

Steinhardt indicates Fadyr, "Nay, Sir Amruk, 'twas sir Rainscroft called."

"Ah, my mistake." Amruk turns to Fadyr, "Yes Sir Rainscroft, how may I help you?"

Fadyr steps over to meet Amruk. "Sir Amruk, I was hoping you might be able to keep an eye on my squire, Devon. I have some matters to tend to, and he will be doing research for a while. In case it takes longer than planned, however, I would like to be certain someone will make sure he is fed and out of trouble." He finishes with a hint of a grin.

Amruk casts a critical glance over the young Cervani, before replying to Fadyr. "Of course Sir Rainscroft, though he doesn't strike me as the troublemaking sort. Should dinner arrive and you have not, I'll make sure your squire is fed and safely put away afterwards." He smiles.

Fadyr bows. "My thanks, Sir Amruk." He turns to Jael. "Devon, when you finish in the library, seek out Sir Amruk here." The knight pauses. "Any other questions, lad?"

Gergesene kaws Korv laughter. "No, he is not the trouble-making sort at all, Sir Amruk. A very good lad indeed."

Devon shakes his head, then stops. He stands tall to whisper to Fadyr, requiring the knight to stoop a bit to hear him.

Fadyr was far more worried about trouble finding Jael than him starting any, but it seems best to not comment on it. He leans down, then furrows his brow at the youth's question. "How about when I do get back, okay?" he offers quietly.

The young squire nods, then looks at all the Landsknechts, and Jonas, waiting with a hurried air. "Okay. I should go to the library now I guess." He bows to everyone, wondering if he should wait to be dismissed.

Fadyr smiles a bit and nods. "Good studies, Devon."

Gergesene wingwaves to Devon, "We shall return in good order, do not fear!"

Gergesene hops off to have a carriage brought around to ferry the four of us to Lord Ruthven's.

Jonas takes the interim to retrieve his new lamelate blade from his quarters. He returns to join the group with sword slung across his back.

Devon waves and scoots off quickly towards the library. Sir Amruk takes his leave as well, moving to find a new person to challenge. A few moments pass and Gergesene returns with an enclosed carriage large enough for small group of knights. The Rath'ani driver brings it to a halt nearby, and opens the door.

The Landsknechts mount and seat themselves inside the carriage, and the driver takes the vehicle through the main gates of the keep. As instructed by Gergesene, he turns the carriage towards Blitzheim, and the palace. The team of Drokars pull it along at a fair clip along the cobble road, though the ride inside is smooth thanks to the expert design of the suspension.

As the carriage moves towards the city, Jonas turns to Gergesene, and says, "Ye've said that ye support this Ruthven as the rightful heir to yer king. Why is there a problem with his claim? Why all this fuss over the lad?"

Fadyr sits back and closes his eyes, pondering everything thusfar and listening to the others.

Steinhardt listens interestedly. The it'un could indeed be a gear in the machine then…

Gergesene fills in Steinhardt and Jonas as the ride goes, telling them about Mage Talia's revelation… That Jael is in fact, the son of an illegitimate affair between Talia and the Kaizer. "Believe you me, my friends, I was completely stunned by this news! And she went on to impute that Lord Ruthven had some sort of 'taint' because he had been to the land of Bosch. Well, as we both know, that land is a perilous one, but I believe that Ruthven's heart is true and that he has only the good of Chronotopia in mind. He would never order the death of any innocent child. No, we must look to Phelan's treacherous assault on a carriage of the Palace… " He describes the events when going to give Jael the protection that his mother asked of him and Brother Salvatori.

Jonas grunts as he digests this. Gergesene is loyal to this Ruthven to a fault, but he keeps silent on that, saying instead, "Who would have command of the Palace Guards with the Kaiser dead?"

Steinhardt listens silently throughout the story. Dev… Jael is indeed an important gear in the machine; that much is evident. The roles of Ruthven and Phelan are still unclear, however; only speculation…

"And so that's why we decided to sign him on as Fadyr's squire – in effect, we're hiding him in plain sight," the Korv concludes. "Now, I hope that we may allow Lord Ruthven the chance to expose Phelan's wild imaginings for the shadows that they are. His aid might prove useful in convincing Baron Phelan to release the Palace guard and Brother Salvatori as well… "

The carriage continues to speed through Blitzheim, and outside a few rays of sunshine brighten the day.

Jonas continues, "Might there not be a taint that we haven't seen, hidden in the Palace itself, among those that serve? Would not the Boschians want to put yer people at each other's throats to weaken yer defenses?"

Gergesene frowns. "Perhaps, perhaps… The tales are many of their deceit and attempts to discover chinks in the armor of Chronotopia's resolve."

Jonas nods. "Servants, even powerful servants like a Master Butler or Chamberlain, are meant to be treated as invisible by their master, until they're needed. Much could be done under such a blind of mundanity."

Steinhardt cannot help but speak up, "You must admit, Sir St. Germain, that however unlikely and unliked, there is indeed the possibility of complicity on Lord Ruthven's part… Overlooking a possibility could leave a fatal opening."

Gergesene says severely, "Were we to go too far down that path, we would none of us trust the other for Boschian connections imagined or not. Let there be true wrongdoing found first before an accusal is brought, my friends. We ought first to look at this Baron Phelan's actions and consider: are these the actions of one who follows the laws of this great country?"

Steinhardt shakes his head slowly, and makes no further comment.

The carriage sways gently as the journey continues. Buildings glimpsed through the windows are the multistory variety found in the heart of Blitzheim.

"But rest assured," the Korv assures Steinhardt. "As Landsknechts, we follow no one lord but the calling of our heart and the rightness of our code. I shall not permit young Jael to come to harm – he is innocent in and of himself, and has done none any harm. Those who would seek to use him as a political tool… "

Jonas grunts. "I doon't know Ruthven, or Phelan fer that matter, from the Peacemaker Himself, Sir Gergesene. Ye'll pardon me if I stay skeptical.

Gergesene says to Jonas, "Evil is as evil does, friend from the outlands. We must each carry the light of the Star within our hearts and shine it upon any deceit to reveal our true friends and enemies."

Jonas grins. "Not the way I'd put it, but true enough."

Steinhardt nods to Gergesene, "I do not wish to shine blame upon any, but counsel that we remain open. . " He sighs, "I pray that it is Bosch only at work, and not deceit from within."

The rest of the journey continues in relative silence as the occupants mull over the information they have shared, and the possibilities it suggests. The carriage starts up the long semi-circular drive in front of the palace, passing the two mobile fountains. The vehicle halts at the foot of the long walk into the building, the Rath'ani driver is quick to open the door for the knights, and lower the steps. Flanking the main entrance at the end of the walk are two Vindsoldaten, their rifles held beside them at the ready.

Jonas comments, as he leaves the carriage, "Odd spears, that those soldiers're wielding."

Fadyr just chuckles…

Gergesene says as he exits the carriage, "Let us not allow our doubts to overwhelm our hearts, my friends. Were we always to stand lest we offend, the tale of St. George and the Dragon would be instead, the tale of the Crispy Fried Knight." He kaws laughter and steps to the side to let Fadyr and Steinhardt out.

Jonas blinks. St. George? Not one of his dieties. Have to ask about that story later.

Steinhardt drops from the carraige and chuckles softly at Jonas' comment, "Aye, that they are."

Jonas says, "They doon't look very well balanced fer throwing. I gather they're fer bracing against a charge?"

Fadyr steps out of the carriage. "They are meant to take care of enemies far off, actually."

Jonas looks back at the guards. He ponders this remark for a moment, finally saying, "I doon't ken."

Jonas says, "What do ye mean?"

Fadyr grins, shaking his head. "If you have not seen one, it is difficult to explain. They… launch things, like a bow. It requires more maintenance and has more power. I fear I do not understand the finer points myself."

Jonas furrows his brow, trying to digest this. "Like an Imperial's crossbow then?"

Gergesene listens to the discussion curiously. Jonas must indeed be from far outland not to know about Chronotopia's guns – our triumph of engineering.

The rifles held by the guards, the Windsburschts, are impressive in their design and not their gaudiness. The weapon has a cylinder which is charged with compressed air, and maintains good power over thirty shots. It fires sharpened darts from a 20 round magazine almost as quickly as the trigger can be pulled. Highly accurate, the rifle also requires a great deal of maintenance to remain functional; In an ordered group however, their effect can be devastating.

Fadyr nods. "Something like that, aye."

Jonas nods. "Aye, then, I kin see why ye'd equip soldiers with them. But they still look strange." He turns and looks at the front door of the building. "Let's see yer Lord Ruthven, then."

Steinhardt claps Jonas on the shoulder, still grinning slightly, and looks towards the palace as well…

The Landsknechts head to the palace entrance where they are met by a servant. Evidently one that has been waiting there specifically for them, or at least Gergesene. He leads the group through the stately hallways to one of Ruthven's private meeting rooms. Opening the door he waves the knights, and Jonas in. "Make yourself comfortable, Lord Ruthven has asked that you wait here, and that he be informed of your arrival. He should arrive momentarily."

The Korv nods. "We're most pleased that he has found the time to meet with us." He hops onto a perch and settles back to wait.

Fadyr walks in and glances around. He finds a nice spot to stand at attention while he waits.

Jonas, confronted with a level of decor that is more than he is used to, finds a spot away from anything that looks anywhere near fragile, and stands quietly.

Steinhardt glances around the room, noting the extravagance, then waits patiently…

The Human servant bows once more from the doorway and vanishes down the hall. The room itself is quite comfortable, with the typical high ceilings, tall windows, and paintings of scenes from around Chronotopia. Several desks are located along the walls, and there is a large central meeting table. Smaller doors are at either end of this room, along with the large double one that opens into the hallway. Along the edge of the ceiling and floor there is a carved border relief of interlocking gears and mechanisms.

Jonas blinks. Odd race, that one. No fur to speak of.

Gergesene twiddles his wing-fingers and looks around curiously.

The sound of hooves can be heard in the hallway, and then Lord Ruthven strides through the doors. His apparel is as fine as it is simple, the expense is in the craftsmanship, and not in the embellishment. He surveys the room before walking to the table. His only expression is one of mild surprise, saved for when he first glances at Jonas.

"Greetings Sir St. Germain, I see you have brought some fellow Landsknechts with you. I am afraid I do not have the honour of their names." Ruthven gives a small bow.

Gergesene beak-smiles. "Ah! Lord Ruthven. It's kind of you to invite us to join you. May I present to you my staunch companions… " He gestures toward the others, urging them to introduce themselves.

Steinhardt bows, "Sir Steinhardt, Milord Ruthven."

Fadyr bows deeply. "Sir Fadyr Rainscroft, your Lordship."

Jonas bows slightly, enough to be respectful. "Jonas MacAlister of the Black Watch, yer lordship."

"Well met, Sir Steinhardt, I seem to recall you from before." He bows to the knight, then again to Fadyr, "My greeting to you as well, Sir Rainscroft." Ruthven hesitates momentarily with Jonas, before finally smiling and saying, "May I extend the hospitality of Chronotopia to you, Mr. MacAlister."

Gergesene beams. It's good to see everyone getting along so well. So much for doubts.

The noble stag glances over at the Korv, "I trust everyone here is in your confidence? Despite the pleasant social atmosphere, it is a very important matter of state I wish to discuss with you."

Gergesene stands up straight. "Yes, milord. We're all dedicated to the good of Chronotopia."

Jonas blinks at being grouped in as a patriot of a country not his own, but decides that it's simpler this way.

Ruthven pulls out a chair from the side of the table, near the end, but noat at the end. "Please, no need to be so formal. Do take a seat. Some tea should be arriving soon… The things I wish to speak to you about are sensitive, and could disrupt the order of things. They need to be handled delicately."

Jonas steps to the table, examines a chair, decides it sturdy enough for a short sit, and sits down.

Fadyr remarks softly to himself, "Does not everything these days?" He hesitates, then takes a seat himself, on the opposite side of Ruthven.

Gergesene takes another side seat. "Of course! You may trust us to be the very soul of discretion, milord."

Steinhardt nods and moves to sit beside Fadyr, careful not to snag his sword.

Ruthven nods, looking around the assembly. "I suspect you have some questions, but I would like you to answer one of mine first. Do you have the Kaizer's bastard son, and is he still safe?"

Jonas nods. "He is."

"Good," says Ruthven. "Ensure that he stays so."

"The poor child," the Korv says. "He is an innocent, bewildered by these events, milord."

The noble stag nods to Gergesene, "As I can see it, several interests would like to give him a more prominent place in these events. A place I do not desire to see him in for several reasons."

Gergesene nods along with Ruthven's words. Of course he must be speaking out of a concern for the boy's well-being.

"Immediately after the funeral, I moved to have him secured. This was very nearly not quick enough. As I have heard, it was only your intervention that prevented him from being taken." Ruthven states, looking at the Korv still. "This was not the case with his mother, Mage Talia, who seems to have disappeared."

Jonas says, "Then it was ye that had the Palace Guard take him from his studies?"

"Indeed, milord, it was a shock when we were assaulted by assassins," the Korv says looking righteously indignant. "Men with no respect for the authority of the Palace, nor the honor of the Landsknechts!"

Ruthven turns to face Jonas. His gaze is strong and unwavering, a stag confident enough in his actions to answer without hint of deception. "Yes, he was not safe there. Too many people seem aware of the Kaizer's secret."

Jonas nods. "I ask so that we might discount the possibility of the Palace Guard being used by another, someone with other interests in mind."

Fadyr says, "How many do know, and what do they wish to do with him, though?"

"… and what are they willing to do to get him?" Steinhardt adds.

"It was under my orders, for my interest." Ruthven states, then looks once more at the Korv, "I'd like to know all you can tell me about those men, Sir St. Germain, However I feel I should answer your questions first, so this does not seem like a one sided interview."

Gergesene nods, "Of course, milord. Indeed, I'd hoped for your aid in a matter related to that attack… "

Gergesene nods to Fadyr, yielding Ruthven's attention for his fellow knight's question.

Fadyr says, "Specifically, Lord Ruthven, who is there that you know would be seeking the lad and have plans regarding him?"

The noble stag lets his gaze drift from Gergesene, across to Fadyr and Steinhardt, and along to Jonas as he goes tries to provide some answers. "I cannot say for sure how many know. Baron Phelan, one of Heinrich's friends would know, as does the Mage Talia, obviously. They may have told some associates. As to their intents with Jael, I think it should be obvious; They want access to the crown."

Gergesene shakes his head sadly. "We must all be content with our parts in the Grand Machine, of course. Such striving can only imbalance, perhaps even topple the system… "

Fadyr frowns. "Aye, but surely his claim is… questionable at best." As much as he likes Jael, the knight is still having a bit of trouble accepting what happened between Talia and the Kaizer.

Ruthven leans forward on the table, gesturing, "I am not sure how aware you are of the business being conducted in the House. As you are Landsknechts, or foreign, I suspect it has not come to your attention to any great degree. The Kaizer, in a case where there is no clear succession, must be elected with a clear majority in both assemblies. I presently have the best support in the Commons, and a respectable amount with the Lords."

Steinhardt listens silently…

Jonas says, "But, if the lad were to appear as a more acceptable choice … "

"Baron Phelan, if anyone could be described as having a good base of support among the lords, would be such a person. Most of the Lords however, would like to see themselves, or one of compatible interest elected." Ruthven nods to Jonas, "Yes, exactly, they would want to introduce the boy to try and shift support."

Jonas nods. "When will the vote be cast?"

Gergesene slaps his winghand on the table. "Those caitiffs! They would seek to ruin your good name only to see someone they hoped easily manipulated elected into office. Clearly," he says piously. "Evil deeds show evil hearts."

"Votes are cast daily, sometimes twice daily if the houses don't descend into arguing points of order." Ruthven answers Jonas, and then in turn nods to Gergesene, "As you suggest, there is a lot of maneuvering in an attempt to garner support. For the moment I find myself making most of my effort in the House of Lords, Baron Phelan has to split his efforts between both houses, and there are two or three shifting coalitions, who at the moment seem to be only trying to delay events. No clear third choice has risen from amongst the other lords."

"I suspect those groups would be most interested in the Kaizer's illegitimate son making an appearance." Ruthven adds.

Jonas grunts. "So, yer fellows will be jockeying back 'n' forth until a clear successor is voted upon. Which isn't likely to happen anytime soon."

The noble stag nods at Jonas' statement. "Yes, that is essentially the case. Obviously there are some favours being promised which are helping to convince some people, and this cannot last indefinitely, but it does seem to be taking a very slow path to resolution."

Gergesene looks over to the others, wondering if they see what is going on as clearly. "Surely, my friends, you can see that to make of young Jael a candidate would only turn him into a puppet… The boy is too young to rule! He would be dependent on his advisors. And who would they be, but… "

"I bear no malice towards Jael, one cannot choose one's parents, obviously. However I would not like to see him enter this, for the reasons you state." Ruthven sits back in his seat, resting his hands against the edge of the table. "I agree with you, even if he was the legitimate heir, he is still too young to rule. To try and foist that role on someone even less prepared for the task would be criminal."

Fadyr sits quietly through most of the discussion. It seems rather straightforward politics, not some dark plot to endanger the nation. "Aye, it would seem far better to merely see to his safety through these troubled times. Better for all involved."

Steinhardt remains silent; thoughtful…

"Still, that is what some 'advisors' in the House of Lords would do, if they could find him, so I must thank you for your discretion, and keeping him safe." Ruthven nods to Gergesene and Fadyr.

Fadyr bows his head quietly in reply.

Gergesene bows to Lord Ruthven. "You are most welcome, milord. And now, if I might beg a bit of your help in turn?… "

Lord Ruthven turns to Gergesene, "But of course, in what way may I assist you?"

The Korv replies. "In fact, I was able to capture one of the assassins who beset us, though at a cost – the Palace guard known as Shem, and Brother Salvatori were both captured by the assassins. However, we were able to obtain a name from the assassin… "

Fadyr glances at Gergesene, "Aye, a matter we have yet to investigate in detail. It would be improper to bring it up before we have a chance to find out more."

Gergesene is about to say on further, then looks angrily at Fadyr. "But surely, Lord Ruthven ought to be given the chance to impress upon the upstart how mistaken his beliefs are?"

Ruthven raises an eyebrow, leaning forward. "Oh? This is most interesting, do go on. Who did he name."

Steinhardt speaks quietly, "Though we have indeed gained a name, we have no way to know the assassin named his true master."

Jonas says, "I think Fadyr is correct, Gergesene. We have no way of knowing if the poor fellow was following orders from his liege, or just thought he was."

The double doors to the room open and a servant enters pushing a trolley. The Khatta pauses momentarily and looks at the assembled knights with some confusion. The tray on his cart hints at his consternation. There seems to be only enough tea service for two. Somewhat nervously the servant starts towards the table.

Fadyr nods. "And we cannot implicate someone in things without proof. Chronotopia is in enough turmoil with all this politics, we need not add to that without reason."

Ruthven leans back, tapping a finger against his chin, "Yes, good point. One wouldn't want to jump to conclusions. So, I am confused. Do you wish an investigation of the named suspect, or not?"

"But his helmet – " The Korv bows his head. "My apologies, Lord Ruthven. It would be like Bosch, to trick us into further aggression against each other. May we have your permission to investigate the matter further, and take such action as is necessary to bring the light of the Star upon the encroaching shadows?"

Fadyr frowns slightly at the Korv, but relaxes a bit as he looks back to Lord Ruthven. "I believe we can handle the investigation… for the moment. It would be reassuring to know we had your support should it be called for, however."

"Yes of course, I see no reason why you should not." Ruthven answers Gergesene, "You have proven yourself quite loyal and beyond various allegiances so far. Is there some special powers you are asking me to grant, beyond that which the Landsknechts normally command?"

The servant comes up behind Ruthven, and the stag waves him on past. The Khatta parks the trolley at the table, beside Ruthven and across from Gergesene. He starts moving the Tea and biscuits onto the table.

The Korv frets. "If it should turn out to be whom we think – it is not meet that a Landsknecht arrest a seated lord, that is the occupation of the police. We should need the authority to make an arrest. Yet it cannot be one of us, for that would be a conflict in our duties." He wrings his hands and looks over at the other knights to suggest something.

The servant pours a cup of tea for Ruthven, then looks at the sole remaining glass and the other four people present. "Sorry m'lords, I'll fetch some more." He mumbles, bowing and reaching down to pull the trolley back from the table.

"Aye, a Landsknecht would not be able," Steinhardt muses, "but perchance an outsider given to Chronotopia's cause. What say you of friend Jonas, Sir St. Germain?"

Gergesene brightens. "Yes, yes, I see! He could be granted… " He tries to remember. "What is the proper phrase for it, Sir Steinhardt?"

"The foreigner?" Ruthven blurts, then pauses a moment to consider. "True, he would hold no particular allegiances to any internal powers."

Fadyr ponders the suggestion, glancing to Jonas to see his reaction.

Jonas looks a bit surprised at Steinhardt's suggestion and Gergesene's agreement. At Ruthven's comment, he says, "But I am a keeper o' the law, Lord Ruthven. Or, at least, a keeper o' Highlands law."

"Hmm… that does indeed have possibilities." Ruthven sizes the highlander up again, an act that takes some effort. "You would not be in the company of the Landsknechts if you did not possess some standard of honour. A Law Keeper in your own land, well, I'll have to take your word on it… Sir St. Germain, would it suit your purposes if Mister MacAlister was established as a Peace Officer?"

The Korv beams. "Oh, I think it would suit them most admirably, milord."

Jonas grunts. "Already am," he mutters.

Gergesene thinks to himself. So his vision is indeed true, and the outlander, Jonas, has a vital part to play in our unfolding story. Ah! Truly the tapestry weaves together.

"For Chronotopia, I mean" Ruthven smiles at Jonas, as the servant pushes past behind him.

"FOR ORDER!" The Khatta screams, plunging a knife down from behind Ruthven, stabbing into his chest.

Fadyr starts, eyes going wide at sight of the knife. Too late it may be, but the Cervani leaps up, drawing his blades.

Jonas rises to his feet in alarm, pushing the chair away to the floor. Ignoring the bulky sword he carried with him, he tears around the end of the table after the assassin.

Ruthven gasps, slumping forward. His eyes wide with the whites showing as he grabs at the knife protruding from his chest.

Steinhardt is across the table almost before he knows what he's doing, leaping at the 'servant'…

Gergesene gasps, taken completely by surprise. "Kaw?!" He jumps back from the table, the instinctive Korv flight reaction, and then reaches up to his wing-saber hilts.

Jonas roars, "HOLD MURDERER!!" as he advances on the Khatta.

The panther Khatta is dragged against the chair as Ruthven collapses, his hand stuck on the knife in the stag's chest. "NOO!" He yowls at Steinhardt, with an expression of pure terror. "Bosch! I've failed!" His hand looses the blade, and he leaps at the knight.

Ruthven is collapsed on the table, one hand scrabbling against the surface, the other clutched against the knife and out of sight beneath the table edge.

Steinhardt slams into the Khatta, knocking them both to the floor. A hastily aimed punch misses as the Cervani attempts to avoid impaling the assassin.

The Korv thinks – a rare moment, but it does indeed happen. Wingsabers in such close quarters could only fatally wound someone; besides there are more than enough here to handle one assassin. "My friends – capture the assassin alive! He must testify!" Then begins to race for the door, squawking, "Guards! Medics! Lord Ruthven has been assaulted most foully; a healer, bring a healer!"

The alarm is sounded in the halls, and prompts the palace staff into action. Running feet can be heard approaching as the Khatta writhes beneath Steinhardt. He fights to free himself, but his focus is beyond the stag on top of him, someplace distant. His voice has degenerated into bestial screams.

Steinhardt rolls aside to avoid claws slashing at his face… and the Khatta bolts!

Jonas wheels around the table and skids to a stop. With an ease born of handling drunken and rowdy Highlanders, he grabs the Khatta by the back of the neck and hauls him up into the air. Pausing only to grab him around the waist with the other hand, he slams the assassin back onto the ground, flat on his back, hopefully knocking the wind out of him.

Fadyr leaps up onto the table, ready to help. As Jonas soundly incapacitates the Khatta, though, he drops his swords to the table and kneels down to see to Ruthven. As much as he would like to help, he is no healer by any stretch of the imagination, so he knows he cannot do much.

Jonas snarls into the face of the smaller Khatta. "Hold still, or I'll break both yer knees and feed ye yer tail!" He looks over his shoulder at Fadyr, saying, "Keep him conscious, fer the Mother's sake! Where's that healer?!"

Ruthven does not seem to be dying, but he has his hand gripped tightly against the hilt of the blade, trying to pull it out. The pupils in his eyes have gone very narrow. Strangely, Fadyr sees no blood.

"A healer! A medic, for the Star's sake," squawks the voice outside the room as Gergesene continues to try to find someone to help. "You! Where's the infirmary?"

Steinhardt stands slowly, face agonized. {Cursed assassin… } He moves near Fadyr, "Is he… ?"

Outside the room, the Human servant from before is the first to arrive, followed swiftly by four Vindsoldaten. The guards burst into the room as the servant confers with Gergesene. The infirmary is indeed not far away, as the Korv flies.

Fadyr draws back from the Lord, gaping. He fumbles as he grasps his swords again, somehow reassured to hold them, in spite of his shock at the sight of Ruthven. "B-by the Star… "

Jonas is busy restraining the assassin, and doesn't notice Fadyr's reaction.

The Khatta assassin, momentarily stunned and disoriented, recovers enough to struggle beneath Jonas, but for the time being, is held down strongly.

Steinhardt starts in surprise at Fadyr's reaction; then notices the lack of blood. .

Ruthven succeeds in pulling the knife free, and sends it spinning onto the table. He clutches his hand over the wound in his chest, and weakly pushes himself back into a sitting position. "Cursed blade." He gasps quietly.

"What magic is this?" breaths Fadyr as he crawls away slowly.

At that very moment, Gergesene lands heavily outside the nearby hallway and then tugs a flustered-looking, wild-haired Rath'ani healer into the room. "Lord Ruthven has been gravely hurt," he tells the healer. "A foul murder!"

Jonas hears the blade clatter across the table. Glancing away from his quarry, he says, "What're ye doing? Now he'll bleed like a stuck boar! Get something on that wound fast!"

Fadyr stammers, "He… he isn't bleeding… " The Cervani's eyes are still on Ruthven, wary and uncertain.

Jonas blinks. "What?"

Gergesene pushes in beside the table, moving the chairs liberally aside so the healer, clutching a quickly-packed satchel, can get in to see to Ruthven. "The assassin must have used some foul magic on him! We must act quickly, save his life before the blade can drink all his blood dry… "

Steinhardt's eyes are wary as he takes a step towards Ruthven. How…

The wounded stag shakes his head weakly. "No magic, just mail… the knife was turned… " Ruthven is tightly pressing his hand against his wound.

Relaxing slightly, Steinhardt moves closer. "Even so, the healer should see to you, milord."

Jonas grunts at Ruthven's comment. He hoists the assassin off of the ground, twisting the Khatta's arm behind him as he does. "Do any o' ye guards happen to have a pair o' shackles on ye?"

Fadyr manages to regain some bit of his composure, standing off the table on the opposite side of Ruthven. He eyes the nobleman warily. It is the simplest answer, but he saw the knife blade…

Gergesene looks relieved to hear that the wound was not as severe as it seemed at first. "Thank the Star, milord," he says.

The healer rushes to Ruthven's side, even as the stag appears to be regaining his strength. He opens his satchel and starts pulling out bandages. The stag nods weekly to the knights, "Yes yes, I will. Take him somewhere secure." He waves for the Rath'ani to wait a moment.

The blade sits innocently on the table, distinct only in it's manufacture. Metal.

Gergesene gasps for breath. "What a day," he says to the other knights.

Fadyr re-sheathes his swords and looks to the knife thoughtfully.

One of the Vindsoldaten nods to Jonas, and approaches, dragging out a pair of manacles. He slings his Windsburscht behind his back as he clasps the cuffs on the still struggling feline.

Jonas looks over his shoulder. A metal blade. "Now where," he asks in a conversational tone, as if he were commenting about the weather or asking the time, "would a Child o' Felis like yerself come across sooch a fine blade, hmm? Must have a pretty big purse to have sooch a nice little tool."

Ruthven smiles weakly back at Gergesene, "You should know Landsknechts are not that easy to kill, even retired ones."

The panther snarls back in reply, struggling in his manacles, succeeding only in ripping open one wrist.

Gergesene kaws, drawing a winghand up to a salute. "Never fear, milord. We shall root out the demonic masters responsible for this plot! It only proves how desperate they have grown, to resort to such last-minute measures… "

Jonas curses and tries to keep the assassin from opening any veins in a last-ditch suicide attempt.

Fadyr reaches out and takes up the assassin's blade carefully and examining it.

"Yes, that's true." Ruthven tells Gergesene, as the Khatta is prevented from any personal life threatening acts by Jonas.

Looking from the knife's blade to Ruthven subtly, Fadyr just can't shake what he's convinced he saw. Still, events lately have instilled in him a sense of discretion, so he says more of it yet.

There is nothing unusual about the blade, simple metal, and a few scratch lines that suggest a lack of experience by the sharpener. The stag turns it over, seeing nothing special, and promptly collapses.

Jonas starts at the strange behavior. "Fadyr?!" He literally shoves the panther into the arms of the guard, and moves across the room.

Steinhardt, still near Sir Fadyr, moves (too late) to catch the other knight as he falls. He kneels next to his fallen comrade…

Gergesene gasps! "Occult forces!" the Korv curses, and hurries to join Steinhardt by Fadyr's side. "I knew the blade must have been enchanted. It must have come out of that hated country… "

Jonas motions the Rath'ani healer to move with him as he walks over. "Do yer job, physician."

Noticing that Fadyr still holds the blade, Steinhardt reaches down to attempt to pry the other Cervani's hand open, avoiding touching the knife itself…

Fadyr doesn't see the room going dark, or the table rushing up at him. Instead, the knight has the curious sensation of flying. The roof of the palace opens above him, and he is dragged out through it. Buildings speed past him as he is pulled out of Blitzheim. Days worth of travel pass in an eyeblink. Towns, small hamlets, the Auchslander keeps which lie outside of Chronotopia's border's whip past him. Then, Bosch! Through the mountains which barely contain the madness, and deep into its heart. Valleys, cliffs, twisted beings and warped vegetation, pass by his eyes. Finally, a tall slender tower, bone white, and like the Cathedral of Precision, in constant motion, though not because it is a machine, but because it is alive. Fadyr is whisked up to the top floor, dragged through the walls, and just as he looks on the deepest blackness he has ever seen, the darkness fades. He is back in the room, lying on the table, the knife knocked out of his hand by Steinhardt.

Gergesene shakes Fadyr as the Cervani starts to come awake. "Sir Rainscroft! Are you all right?"

Fadyr looks up at everyone around him, eyes wide once more. "I… what… where… " His eyes take in the more familiar scene around him and the Cervani sits up. With a visible shiver he nods. "I-I'm fine."

Ruthven stands, then sinks back into his chair. "See to him physician. I will keep." He waves the Rath'ani towards Fadyr.

"You passed out," the Korv says helpfully. "Some enchantment of Bosch must have lingered on that knife! Truly, we must be thankful that Lord Ruthven did not succumb to its foul magic… "

Steinhardt, seeing Fadyr apparently well, watches the blade as though it is alive. .

The blade behaves much like any other inert object, and does nothing untoward.

Fadyr closes his eyes. "Aye… thankful." He shakes his head. "I'm okay," he says, sounding more certain as he waves off the Rath'ani. "Though that knife… best to not handle it."

Jonas looks around for something with which he might pick up the dangerous blade. "We need tongs, or something of the like. And a bucket or box or something." He spies a pair of tongs near the stove that heats the room on colder days. "Those'll do."

Steinhardt's gaze moves from the blade on the floor, to the Lord Ruthven, and finally to the guarded Khatta. .

Gergesene shudders. "I am of a mind to put off paying a call to our other 'name' until the morrow," he says to Steinhardt. "Is this not enough excitement for the one day?"

Jonas crosses the room and picks up the tongs. Not iron, like he's used to, but hard wood, blackened by soot at the business end. He takes them over and uses them to lift the knife off of the floor and back onto the table. "This had better be looked at by someone who knows more about magick than I do." He sets the tongs next to the knife.

Steinhardt turns slowly, eyes shadowed, towards Gergesene, "Any excitement of this nature could well be done without. . Perchance 'twould be well to wait, aye."

Fadyr gets back to his feet. He may be quite shaken, but pride won't let him stay seated. "Aye, Sir Gergesene, perhaps it should wait," he puts in.

Jonas says, "We would do well not to say anything of this even either. If the one we suspect is in fact guilty, word of this might spur him to action.""

Gergesene snaps his wingfingers. "Very true, Friend Jonas. He might try again! And we might not be so lucky the next time… "

The healer returns to Lord Ruthven, who signals for him to help him stand. Despite the Rath'ani's objections he insists, and is helped to rise. The stag still clutches tightly at the wound in his chest. "I'll leave this in your care Sir St. Germain. I'll have the writ sent to you Mister MacAlister. I have had too much excitement myself as well, and wish some privacy now."

Gergesene kaws, "Thank you, milord!"

Gergesene turns to the servants and starts snapping orders. "There's to be no word of this. Say nothing to anyone outside who asks. If anyone knew that Khatta who attempted murder most foul, let him come forward and he will be rewarded… " He turns to Fadyr, Steinhardt, and Jonas. "Perhaps you would like to see if the assassin can tell us any more?… "

Jonas eyes the area around Lord Ruthven's wound carefully. There is no stain, but a good chain shirt might protect from a knife wound. And the cloth lining would stop the blood that did result from a turned stab.

Gergesene kaws, "We must prevent another attack against the Lord Ruthven… "

Fadyr nods to Ruthven as he leaves. The knight shivers again as he realizes that vision is still clear in his mind, far too clear. He briefly considers sharing what he has seen, but knowing Gergesene and his visions, the Korv would want to crusade off to that tower or something.

Ruthven is carefully helped from the room by the healer, and two Vindsoldaten accompany him.

Jonas snaps back towards Gergesene at the question, and nods. "We kin try to get this Child o' Felis to talk. At least he's in better shape than the last assassin, eh Gergesene?"

"His turn will come," the Korv promises, still rather feather-flustered after the going-ons.

The Khatta assassin has curled up into a fetal ball at the foot of the Vindsoldat guarding him.

Jonas tromps over to the assassin. He lifts the Khatta by the shoulders and moves him towards the door. "Come along ye. I'm sure they have a nice cell for such as ye, with all the comforts o'home," he comments sarcastically.

Fadyr slowly steps after Jonas, the impending questioning no more than a passing thought. No, this visit has brought far too many other thoughts. The Cervani is still sure the assassin's blow was truer than Ruthven said. Even that is secondary in his mind, falling behind the haunting visions of Bosch and the all too clear knowledge of how to get to the very tower he beheld…