With no one else having anything to ask of the Baron, you complete your luxurious and delicious meal talking about the weather and the price of fish.  The baron drinks a lot of Pembrose Red (which is excellent quality wine), but doesn't seem particularly intoxicated by the end.   As the night draws naturally to its conclusion, you all eventually make your excuses and retire.

You spend a peaceful, comfortable and relaxing night in the baron's mansion.  For many of you this is the nicest accommodation you have ever experienced; some by a long way.  Even for the most affluent of the group, this is living in luxury.  The four poster beds block out sights and sounds and you awake refreshed and revitalized (and can claim a Long Rest).

Soon a small bell in the wing rings and Nevil sweeps in to usher you all down to breakfast.  This is had in a dining room in the guest wing of the mansion and the Baron is not present with you.   You are treated to a huge array of cold meats and cheeses, fresh fruit juices and cold milk.  Also available is an array of cooked meats, eggs, mushrooms and beans.  The whole experience is very pleasant.

Once breakfast is complete, Nevil again returns.   "I trust you are all rested and refreshed?  This morning the baron has asked that you accompany Overseer Varnell on a tour of his lands.  The Overseer is waiting for you in the stables.  If you are ready, please follow me."

The seneschal leads you outside and into the manor grounds.  You spot the occasional orange bandana-wearing enforcer patrolling the gardens.  Soon you reach the stables which are a large wooden affair hidden at the south ends of the grounds.  Stood outside them is the imposing figure of Varnell.   He holds the reigns to a large black horse who looks nervous and full of energy.  Servants hold the reigns to five other horses ready for you all to ride.

Those of you who are locals realize that horses are rare in Ibini, and this is quite the show of money the baron is putting on for you.

Can Louis get an insight check on the Baron after the whole evening, sort of a gauge on what his intentions are with us? I’ve got a weird “most dangerous game” vibe.

louis insight 12 

Louis is pretty sure the Baron is on the level, though he definitely steered the conversation away from local politics at times.

Vaclav nods in thanks to the servant holding his horse and climbs aboard. "So you're taking us on a tour.  Any particular reason why?"

On seeing the horses, Claire is glad that she decided to change out of the Baron's finery for this.

"Greetings," she says to Varnell with a dip of her head.  "I am Theresa.  The Baron has had nothing but praise for you," she says as way of greeting.  Grabbing the reins of one of the horses, she waits until the man has mounted his own magnificent black steed, before following suit and doing the same to her own horse easily.

There's a moment of doubt as she realizes that horses aren't all that common, and that she might have just revealed a little too much about herself to anyone watching with a critical eye.

Knights always train to ride on horses... but surely merchants do as well? she thinks, sweating a bit.  Deciding that it's too late to pretend at unfamiliarity now, she simply takes the reins and wheels the horse around to face Varnell.  "We thank the Baron for his generosity, and look forward to this tour that you are to offer," she says politely to the man.

Varnell watches as you all take your horses and mount up.  "We're going to take a look around the farms and fields in the immediate region," he tells you gruffly.  "Baron asked me to," he says as if that explains everything.

Where Nevil was the consummate professional and the baron was eloquent and perhaps a bit haughty, Varnell is blunt, brief and a bit belligerent.   He waits for you all to be seated and then spurs his mount forward.  The gelding rears slightly before he gets it under control, and he keeps its enthusiastic prancing barely in check as he manages to steer it towards the gates which lead from the gardens out into the town.  It's clear to any experienced riders among you that he is not.

Nos Heliwr will mount up and follow after Varnell, paying close attention to what the man has to say, but being just an 'ear' for now.

You all mount up on to your horses.  Some of you are natural riders, some are trained, some of you look and feel extremely awkward in the saddle.  Varnell leads the way out of the gardens and into the town-proper of Grunal.  You walk down the cobbled street, past the Torrent Inn to the central crossroads.  The townsfolk move swiftly out of your way as you ride and little street kids chase after you, asking for coppers.

At the central crossroads, Varnell turns north and leads you across an arched, wooden bridge.  The River Ardeth flows through the middle of town here and is pretty swift, swollen by the last of the melted snow waters from the source up in the mountains.  The road leads directly to the wooden gate which breaks the palisade on the north end of the town.  Orange bandana-wearing men open the gates at your approach and greet Varnell.  He returns the greeting gruffly and you are left with the impression he commands great respect, but not much affection, from his men.

The road leads north-west out of the town into farmlands with the river following alongside.  Varnell speaks to you for the first time, pointing out the farms that you pass and telling you the names of the farmers whose holdings you pass.  He tells you that this road follows the River Ardeth up into the mountains and leads all the way north-west to the tiny mining hamlet of Hillsend.  You follow the road for an hour or so where it becomes more and more like an ill-maintained rutted track.  Around here, he stops his horse and looks at you all.

"So, all the lands around here are like this," he says indicating the flowing farmlands and fields you've ridden through.   "A few miles north of here is the edge of Baron Gilbert's lands.  You then pass into the lands of Baron Arbek, who runs the north, out of the town of Paradin.  His control this far south-east is minimal though."  You get the impression that what he's telling you is important but intentionally subtle.  You also suspect that he's been told what to tell you; that this subtlety is not his own natural way.

Smiling a little, Claire reaches into her pouch and tosses a few coppers to the children following behind, both to appease them and to allow the mounts to gain a safer walking distance; it was as if the townspeople weren't even aware that running and laughing children were exactly the sort of things that spooked horses.  Judging from several of the party's awkwardness, however - particularly Varnell's - she figures it would be best to remain silent on this matter and find other ways to prevent any unfortunate incidents from happening.  A few more coins fly out of her pouch, and she half-turns in the saddle and watches to make sure the children fall away to a safe distance.

Following Varnell out of the town, Claire tries to commit the names of the farms to memory... all likely hopeless, considering how much information she's trying to absorb in this new land.  She hopes sincerely one of the others is a better tracker than her, or at least has something approaching an eidetic memory, because try as she might Varnell's explanations enter one ear and seem to fly right out the other.  At least she's able to commit the name of the river and the town to her memory, though.

The mentioning of the the Barons' names does strike her out of her information stupor, and Claire attempts to sharpen her wits and gather more information.  "How are matters between Barons Gilbert and Arbek?" she asks carefully.  "It would seem that relations between your two baronies are quite peaceful at the moment.  I suppose Baron Gilbert is looking to... uphold this status quo?  Or is he of a more... progressive mindset?"

Varnell scratches at the scar on his face. looking uncomfortable.  It's clear he doesn't really want to talk about politics.  "That would be a good question for the Baron when you meet him for lunch today," he eventually answers, unhelpfully.  He looks up at the position of the sun in the eastern sky.  "Talking of lunch," he continues, "We need to be heading back soon for you to have enough time to get changed and readied."

Without waiting to see if you are set he urges his black stallion into a canter and is off down the trail in the direction of town.

Claire stares after Varnell.  "That was extremely unhelpful," she observes.  "What do the rest of you think?  I suspect he's hiring us a rogue agents to invade Arbek's land without provoking hostilities between the baronies if we're caught."

Varnell is far enough off, and not looking back, that you have plenty of time for a quick discussion on the situation if desired.

Vaclav rides out with the undeserved confidence of someone who has ridden before but not in a long time. He starts getting the hang of it just as the children approach. When they get close he mostly ignores them, thankful that Claire distracted the brats so he didn't have to kick them.

When Varnel describes the edge of the land he begins to assess the surrounding area, looking for paths that aren't the main one.

"I suspect that's exactly it. Times where there is no strong power in the land are the perfect times to take land from your neighbors. Who's going to punish him for it and once someone gets into power and does get around to worrying about it it will have likely been years, easier to just forget about it then."

"Those were my thoughts as well," Nos Heliwr says in agreement. "I am curious as to what the Baron hopes we can do to give him a cover story to remand control of this area to himself, perhaps a faked border raid by forces under orders of Baron Arbek.  But, in that sort of scenario one would need bodies to point to as the miscreants who dared impinge upon the sovereignty of Baron Gilbert.  Which could mean us being the bodies.  Least if he suggest that sort of activity I'd be prone to consider such a thing."  He grins at his companions, "After all, mercs are expendable, heh, heh, heh."

Varnell looks back over his shoulder and you take that as the cue to catch him up.  You ride back through the morning sunshine and arrive back in town a couple of hours later.  Your guide hasn't said a word on the way back to town.  Your stomachs are rumbling and you feel it's about time for lunch.   

Some of you are suffering the effects of a morning in the saddle as you dismount and hand your horses back to waiting grooms at the stables.  Varnell marches off without so much as a goodbye but you are saved when Nevil sweeps up to you from the manor house.  "Welcome back one and all.  I trust your morning expedition was fun and interesting?  Now, you have a short moment to clean up ready for lunch.   I will come and get you in a little less than an hour."  He leads you back into the mansion and into the guest wing where he leaves you to find your own way back to your rooms and prepare.

In your chambers, hot water, soap and towels are provided, allowing you to refresh yourselves from the morning ride.  You all note new clothes hanging up in the room, and these are matched more accurately to your individual sizes.

Is there anything you wish to do before you are led down to lunch with the Baron?

“I figure if he wanted the lands, he’d need to just start sending his taxman out that way. If he wants goons to do work, that might mean he wants the people there to think it was their own idea.” 

Louis ponders out loud on the way home with everyone. 

“Maybe he’ll want us to kill one of his top advisers and then blame it on the other side?” Nos Heliwr seems intrigued by the idea.

Claire simply dons the clothing, grateful to be finally wearing something clean, fitted, and better than her usual standard.  If this Baron is going to drag them through hell with this job -- a very likely possibility at this point -- the least she can do is look good and be comfortable while enduring it.

It seems rather ingenuous to call it "enduring" when her surroundings are this opulent, however.

Nos Heliwr will don clothing appropriate to his ‘station’; dark grey and deep purplish blues, raw silk if possible.  Quiet clothing suitable for late evening ‘engagements’. He will then join the others and see what the Baron has to say.

Vaclav puts on a dark blue tunic and light brown pants. Over that he then throws back on his long white coat and the leather wraps that were on his hands. He snaps his fingers and Chernobog appears on his shoulder before he goes and stands outside his room to wait for the others.