#baronyofthesilverwolf

To say Silver Wolf has benefited from even the first night of Gwen Locklear's presence would not be untrue. A dream dancer, a chyrsalid can emit glamour for hours. And the colors of the hold might seem brighter, the balefire temporarily livlier. The down side is who knows how many chimera she may have created at the border areas, most of them incidental to be sure. Then again, some might be worthy prey if they last longer than a few hours.

The Liam , Ivory, lives up to his nick name, practicing with blade in the shadow in the morning. He's had intense training, and it has given him a duelists build as if he was sculpted out of ivory. For a member of a House of Scribes, he seems to be ready for war if need be.

And Gwen has kept dreaming. She had the weirdest dreams. Of rock giants and blue warders.. of a battle and... prisoners. It was.. confusing.

When she wakes she rises from her bed with a thud.

Her granite like skin is odd. It alarms her, not because it's weird- it is. But because it feels natural. I'm not sure, but anyone hitting me will regret it.

She peeks out the window, and fights a sigh. Damn sidhe are pretty. Ivory is like a pale god. And the Baron? Damn, staring at his eyes too long was like walking into a dark wood. You're not sure you'd get out again. or that you want to. A sigh. She wished just briefly she wasn't still so young. But a more sensible part of her, something in her with the change scoffed at such notions. Time would take her at it's time, and the Shining Ones were not for her, not that way.

The Baron left early in the morning for a ride, but Gwen isn't the only person peeping at Ivory as he practices. One of the thanes approaches him to offer herself as a sparring partner, though equipped with a chimerical battle hammer rather than a blade.

A soft knock on her door interrupts the show, as Steward Marigold greets her with an offer of a change of clothing - basic, comfortable wear - that somehow has been made overnight to fit her size (like magic?!) and mention that a breakfast spread of coffee, tea, fruit and pastries is set out, when she's fully awake and ready.

Ivory may notice another person watching him casually - the Ailil Knight may lend herself towards the saying to watch 'like a hawk', but her gaze is more feline - affecting disinterest, though intent enough that if he draws her attention, she may be tempted to pounce.

Ivory is happy to practice with the Thane, and seems to have a deep respect for the sheer power of a troll. She'll find him weaker than she (No surprise) but very fit for a sidhe and quite well trained.

The young woman turns and sees the outfit "Oh I wasn't.."But of course she was, a bit of muttering then she sees the clothing "Thank you. I don't know how you got 'extra heavy and tall ' so fast but it's great." And.. yes, she'll be out shortly

Linnea proves a good sparring partner - not holding back once she has the measure of his strength, but also not pressing the advantage or taking pot shots, and glad to work up a bit of a sweat in the cool morning. More than once, his speed gets around her guard, and she admits that he'd have at least tagged her with the blade - "Though I bet if I'd gone for the legs, I may have had you on the ground last pass." A wolfish grin as she leans on the haft of her hammer.

"One mustn't neglect leg day" He says with a flicker of humor, then he concedes "A very near thing.. good match" Ivory says wiping his brow lightly. He doesn't seem to winded. Stamina is one area where the kiths are equal and he seems to have enjoyed it "Most of my practice has been against my fellow sidhe and a few satyrs. Troll reach is.. well it's hard to get on the inside at times."

He seems to pay Calanthe no obvious mind, yet the thane at least mmight notice that he catches glances in reflective blade and armor. He's not unaware of her scrutiny, bored or not

The Baron rides up, mounted and with a few horses following - not tied to a line, they follow without being compelled by rope.

"Sir Ivory, once you have breakfasted, I would ask if you and the young fledge are up for a ride. I'd like to try to trace back to where she arrived last night."

Linnea bows to him, wiping sweat from her brow, then moves to loop the reins of the following horses along a hitching post set near the main entrance for that purpose.

"Right away, Baron" And he bows, then to Linnea "Thank you, again, Thane Linnea. Pardon but I should make haste"

"Do you have appointments that necessitate a quick return to Missouri? I'd hope to track down any potential unknown ingress and egress quickly. I worry that the trod may close, leaving us blind until such time as it reopens without warning." A small frown.

"In truth, " He admits "I feel responsible for Gwen and hoped to return her to Missouri as soon as possible, but I would not be so abrupt as to be rude. I'm at your service for the day or two if you prefer"

"My steward mentioned that she may not be eager to return - at least, not to her original home. Family issues, she suspects. As you may be aware of, as she found the streets a fairer compromise then what waited her at her mortal home."

"Your steward is wise," He nods "Yes, I would not return her to her family. Rather to Earth Runes."

"Were you intending to take on her mentorship and fosterage? A dreamer relationship is a good base to work on, though perhaps a troll holding may suit her better. It has occurred to me that if it was her need that drew forth the trod into reawakening, Dark Gate Fortress may have been da'an's destination. Otherwise, River Vale is also not far, though I would not speak for their willingness to take in a foundling." Their history speaks for that well enough, that he needn't...

"Of Rivervale I know, of Darkgate, less so though a friend did mention." He ponders the barons' words "I had thought Baroness Coradel ap Fiona had the best chance to determine who might teach her to be honest. She's kind to commoners, as is typical for House Fiona, but if she asked I'd teach. I admit, I am only a few years into my own sidhehood. I had something of a crash course"

He looks to the house. "Have you eaten yet? If not, we can be on our way as soon as you are prepared. Do you ride?" The horses hitched look like a pair of mares, one spirited, the other calmer and eyeing the flower garden just out of reach.

"I do ride. The baroness has a fine collection of horses" A pause "And one Tauntaun. " A sigh "I don't reccomend those if you're curious. Too up and down. And I can skip breakfast"

Inside Gwen is eating, and admits "You guys should open a resturant. I don't know why the baron doesn't eat more"

Bluebell seeks to entertain, and is balancing a teacup on her nose. "Blue jays, robins, chickadees, flutter in from nearby trees. They swiftly snitch a morning snack, and fly away, and fly on back."

"So ..pooka talk..ah oddly" Gwen notes trying to recall Marigold's comments

The saucer is place atop the cup, and another cup on that, this one with tea in it! "Now don't you be breaking the good china." Marigold fusses.

"We sit and watch and guess at names, and whilst they fly and play their games. They dip and soar, and dart right by - oh, I wonder how it feels to fly?"

A tilted bow, and the teacups drop! ...to be caught deftly in hands, and Bluebell sips, hiding a smile behind the cup as Marigold stifles a squeak. "They will be the death of me - or of my dishes." The boggan says tartly.

"yes ma'am" Gwen says then looks at Bluebell in wonder "wow, that was so smooth" She covers a smile at poor Marigold's alarm

Marigold covers her startlement by loading down Gwen with several thermoses. "Coffee, and tea, it'll warm up but there's still a nip in the air. Now off with ye, I hear the boys stamping out front." The boys! To speak so flippantly of those magnificent elven princes? Alas, age must have dimmed her eyes.

A blush at something. The fourteen year old girl is sure she'd melt if one smiled at her. Which, of course, would be so embarrasing she'd DIE after to save her dignity "Thank you. This place seems very nice"

"Seems, it seems, all sugar and creams, from the streams up to the beams, away all day in a cup of dreams." Bluebell murmurs as she waves.

Aiden awaits out front with Ivory, and is speaking softly to him and - to the horses as well? As though they could comprehend as well as the pale Knight. "Berúthiel, you will serve the Knight, and he is wise to tricks of even a smart mare. Edhellos, I trust you to give a smooth ride to the girl."

He looks up as she comes out. "Here we are. We hunt for your passage way today. Think that you can ride? It will be a soft trip as we search, and a sweet natured mare." He gives the horse's shoulder a pat, a magnificent looking mare with a splash of silvery white down her nose.

And soon Gwen is ready to go.

IVory pats the horse he's been given.

Gwen blinks and focuses "Ride? I've never ridden in my life, Lord."

"Then today you will learn." He says, not without amusement. "Edhellos is a gentle soul, do not pull on the reigns and she'll see no need to buck or bite. She will follow and you just need to stay on."

On they trot! Aiden's mount tosses his head, wanting to run - but he keeps a firm hand on the reins, and to the light pace promised. Ivory's mount has a manner of trying to shake her head free if he doesn't hold on, and from the sly look back, she is testing him. But as requested, Gwen's mare keeps her pace steady, and without the jolting tooth-rattle of a trot.

They do trot, but the girl is HEAVY, that stone nature of her may make poor Edehllos feel as if she's carrying a troll and a boggan besides

But Gwen does say "This looks familiar" As they come to one grassy area near a hill

Aiden slides off his horse and looks around, checking the ground for motorcycle tracks, or hoof prints from the night before.

Tracks all right.. but not hoofprints nor bike trails. Solitary tracks... and even some grass has been uprooted.

Ivory notes it too, "Kithain or mortal, these are real boot prints"

"Yes. Are these either of your tracks?" He asks, eyeing the prints, then looking towards both other pairs of feet, which coincidentally are hanging at easy view on either side of the sweet-tempered and sassy mares.

"I don't think so but.. oh god why didn't anyone tell me my feet were huge?" Gwen says "Oh god I have man feet"

"You have troll feet and they are proportional" Ivory assures "And not mine either"

"Delicate feet may drift across a ballroom, but a spearmaiden needs a steady stance to fight." He remarks, as he follows the trail, looking for clues.

"Is that what I a.. sorry" She shushes

and lets him lead

Interesting... yes. Someone was sucking up glamour here...

His expression darkens as he removes a riding glove and reaches to touch the spot where the glamour was taken from.

It is not extra banal, but it certainly is devoid of even lingering glamour that should be here. It's as if soemone sucked up the leavings of the dream dance. And that in itself makes a trail. He sees in the distance an out of business gas station. It's been shut down for months. Frankly a bit of an eye sore.

He also sees, trolls. They are at the border and talking among themselves