#rivervale_lodge

"I would never!" He says stoutly. "Not for something important." A pause, and he thinks. "Or only for something important."

"Hrmph," at Connor. But a slight twinkle in her eyes.

"Most, but not all. Unfortunately."

"How young?"

She grimaces. "Some as young as seven or eight."

Frank exhales.

Brekke's expression goes very still. "Boys and girls?"

"Doesn't matter." Quietly.

"Small hands.." Carowyn frowns 'useful to them"

"Both."

"It matters. If they were taking only girl children...it would not be for the small hands alone." Her voice is grim.

"Forgive, Chieftain... but I don't..." A frown. "Well. I hope you are correct."

Jack says "Uh..."

but he shudders "i'm gonna go to bed"

She looks at Sparrow a long moment. Then a nod. "You...have a point."

Frank looks at Brekke, a look very heavy.

"We must rescue them."

A look at Jack. "Please take Connor with you, Jack."

"Come on, Connor. I'll sing you the theme to Underdog" coaxing

Frank nods slow agreement with Sparrow.

She rubs a temple. "Even if there IS risk from the government here... "

"You don't even know all the words." He says. A hesitation, he wants to help... but he goes. He knows that look.

"There's no need to fear, Underdog is here" he says dramatically dragging his buddy buddy along

"Then we must begin. I will send word to speak with Caesar. Mountain, will you speak with those who might be our reconnaisance party?"

"Chieftain - thank you, for letting me come to you and yours."

A sudden rat-a-tat-tat of a knock on the door. (possibly attended by the dogs barking of a visitor)

And an answer bark from upstairs. ARF ARF ARF! Jack may have his hands full now.

"speed of lightning, roar of thunder.." He's trying..and they do sound further away

"Yet more?" And Brekke rises to get the door.

"Yes, I will."

And she opens it.

And at the door is... a stranger! Handsome, in a rugged sort of way, the wilder Satyr was checking out his reflection in one of the window panes when the door opens - checking that nothing was in his teeth, perhaps. "Hello!" A winning smile. "Courier Julius, at your service. I carry a missive for a member of your holding."

The satyr is a trim and handsome fellow in his late teens, long blong hair pulled back into a queue. His green eyes have a merry look to them, for all that his guise is serious. His voile is simple but neat, and his tunic shows two badges - the sigil of the Ailil house, along with another similar badge that appears to be a family crest. Echoing the colors of Ailil, it shows a horse and a hound, rampant addorsed (standing, facing away from each other) over a pair of eagle wings.

Sparrow watches, eyebrow raised.

Brekke blinks at the new arrival. She towers over him by a good amount. After a moment, she says, "Who sends this message?"

A bow, courteous. "Baron Aiden Lowell ap Ailil. And I might have the honor of addressing the Baroness? I have heard tales of your hand of silver, though not that it was rivaled by the gleam of your beautious eyes." Indeed, he does have a satchel, and produces from it a scroll, neatly bound with a black silk ribbon.

Frank stands and walks towards the door.

Brekke shifts slightly to make room for Frank by her side at the door. She looks down on the little satyr. She does not move to take her scroll.

He clears his throat slightly, in the awkward silence, and asks. "If I may have your leave to deliver my missive?"

"You may read it. Aloud. Here."

If Brekke towers over him, Frank absolutely LOOMS.

He clears his throat a bit. "Madam Baroness, I apologize. But this missive is not addressed to you."

"I seek to deliver this to one Dame Dagmar Hammerstrike. If you would be but so kind as to point me in the correct path? I dare say that your dog, fine fellow really, was QUITE insistent that I come here first."

A brow. "I will accept it and see that it reaches Dame Hammerstrike." Now she extends a hand to receive the scroll.

He fidgets, slightly. "My lady of Gwydion, I wouldst not dare impinge on your honor. However I was asked to see that this made it's way to the Dame, and stand by for her reply." A bow, polite.

"Were you, indeed. Well, the person who asked you to do so is not here. You are at my hold. Give the message to me, and give the baron my regrets that I was unwilling to accommodate the other conditions. There will be a reply in due time."

The 9' tall troll grump behind her clears his throat.

He swallows, heavily. A moment's hesitation longer. And he bows a second time, offering over the scroll.

That large blue hand remains waiting for the scroll.

And she takes it.

A nod. And then she continues to look down on him as he stands there.