*Darien is struck with the apple tree upon seeing it, for in the mid-day light, the apples have contributed to a general glow about it. All in all, the silver-upon-blue of healthy tree and sky could be seen as an omen of good things to come.

Darien clears his throat, adjusts his clean uniform tunic, and flexes his shoulders. This assignment should be easier than the others, but he won't bet on it. Darien reaches up, firmly clasping the bell-pull, and tugs downwards. Inside the manor, a deep, booming toll rings out.

After just a few moments, the carved oaken doors open inward to a well-dressed gaunt old man, clad in satin livery and puffing out his chest until he resembled a rooster in his twilight years. Darien snaps a quick salute, and informs the doorman that this delegation has come in an official capacity from the Frost Knights on a matter of some pressing urgency, asking in the process to see Lord Lonsdale. The doorman calls a porter to inform the Mah-stuh, and asks that they wait "one moment, please".*
Darien@frostknights.com


It is the enemy you underestimate who kills you.