It was quiet on their return. A pair of tired looking thanes greet them, along with Marigold looking fresh as ever, and with treats ready. As they settle in, though, the Baron exits his office, a set of keys in his hand that are attached to a rather flashy keychain. A self-defense object dangles from it, black metal but with glittery accents, the type with a pointed end and spots to slide your fingers through, adding a spike to your knuckles verse a possible assailant. This one is shaped like a bird's beak, the finger slots it's eyes.