A 'noble' visitor

“Stand ho” said a sharp voice with a Pergrande accent. A second, heavier, voice repeated the command louder. “Stand ho!” A group of horsemen, clad in mail armour and worn down dark coats, rained their horses in. One could see each horseman had a sword or axe on their belt and a shield with white stag’s head. The sigil, properly described with heraldic terms is “Argent stag’s head on a field of sabre”. The man who repeated the command held a lance in his right arm, flying the same heraldry on a banner. This man seemed to be the sergeant of the group of horsemen, similarly dressed as well. But the actual leader, the one who spoke first stood out from the band. This man was dressed in blackened chainmail and wore a pristine black coat with a dark grey cloak. He carried on his hip a sword and there was a large axe that is fixed on the saddle. A shield hung over his shoulders with leather straps and his head was covered underneath a black great helm with white antlers. This man was a knight and clearly the leader. The band of horsemen stood in an abandoned town, in front of a large building that stood stronger and less battered as the others around it.

The leader removed his helmet and underneath it was a mail coif but white hairs visible, crawling out underneath the coif. His skin was pale, and his eyes had an unnatural blue glow to them. “Soundeth the h'rn, announceth mine own arrival.” Said the sharp voice. The sergeant blew for a long moment on the horn that had hanged from his saddle. “I announceth the arrival of l'rd Godfrey of Ushil, counteth of Ushil and Crachton! His l'rdship wishes to has't a dialogue!” Shouted the sergeant. The door stayed closed and no answer came. “Repeateth” said Godfrey, the knight. The Sergeant blew the horn once more and repeated his words. Still no reaction. Godfrey donned his helmet and pushed his mailed right arm up and circled around. The horsemen were about to turn around when…

Returning from a mission Smrt slowly walked through the village. It was same as always silence everywhere just like he liked it, but as he got near there was something different.
There was a large commotion and a lot of noise. He could hear horses neigh, whinny and nicker.
"This is new! he said to himself and started going towards all the racket.
In front of a large building stood a bunch of horse riders. In full chainmail and with weapons hanging from their belts they looked like an army if Smrt had ever seen one. But the reason for their visit was what was concerning Smrt.
"This close to the guild they are either enemies or friends, and I know all our friends."
He counted their numbers. Calculated the distance from each of them, and with confidence in his skill, he was determent to talk with them. A blue-eyed individual stood proud among them.
Grabbing the wand and with the coat already on, Smrt's approached them slowly.
The soldier blew the horn a couple of times like calling something to come, and with no answer, the blue-eyed soldier put on his helmet to ride off, but their new journey was cut at the roots by Smrt's approach. "Hello soldiers. What brings you here to our village?"

Godfrey looked at a bear of a man who dared to speak to them. A peasant? Godfrey studied the giant with his thick muscles and white long hair. His face was crowned with large whiskers. A warrior? If he carried an axe with him then I would have guessed he was a lumberjack. Godfrey’s squire looked at his master and kept glazing back at the bear. “’m in searcheth of a band of men, their nameth shall gallow the common soldi'r and shall weaken the knees of the bravest knights…” Godfrey spurred his horse closer to the white bear. “These folk. Nay, the peasants calleth these folk ‘monst'rs’…” Godfrey leaned forward in his saddle, looking in the bear's eyes. “These monst'rs art of Savage Skull.” His mouth corners curled up, a faint laughter was hearable through the breathing holes of his helmet. “Doth thee knoweth wh're those gents art”

The looks of Godfrey btw
The looks of the soldiers

As Godfrey's words were coming out, Smrt was getting ready for trouble, his cheery nature became serious.
He straightened his coat.
He looked around at other soldiers.
His eyebrows were lowered, his mouths closed, one of his hands was on his wand and the other was in a fist.
He did all of this slowly so it would not raise alarm in the eyes of the others.
"I do know of them, but... Those that you seek are dead. Ghost you could call them. So I would advise you to turn and go back to where you came from."
Smrt looked again at the soldiers then looked Godfrey through his helmet straight into eyes.
"Cause even as ghosts, they can be a force not to be reckoned with. And all of you together might die really quickly if you would to meet them."
His mouth turned to happiness in a moment, but his eyes still had the same note of gravity.
"Not that that could happen as I said they are dead. So yeah. What was your name again I forgot what you said?"

Godfrey leaned back in his saddle, Interesting. Listened to what the bear had to say about the ghost of Savage Skull. Insolence. thought Godfrey, but brave. Godfrey reached for his purse and took out a silver coin. One side held the face of his former king and the other side held his heraldry, both sides scratched to hide them. He threw the coin to white bear.
"The coin wouldst have been of golden if.. if thee spoke more respectful to nobility." Godfrey took off his helmet. "I admireth thee courage. 'm Lord Godfrey, counteth of Ushil and Crachton." He stared into the eyes of the bear of a man and put the spores on his horse. He spoke without looking back "If I cannot find the Savage Skull, then I shalt look for the Serpent and ask refuge there.." Godfrey's men at arm passed the bear as well, in silence.

It was a cold yet clear night, clear enough that even while hiding in the shadows Dahau could see the strange group of men entering the forgotten village. Clad in their medieval armor while riding horses who's hot breath became visible in the cold night. Surely if this was just another random village inhabited by some backwater locals they would think the riders of the apocalypse just rode into town, however this wasn't just your ordinary village.

As the events slowly started to unfold themselves, a new player entered the scene. A young man the size of a bear emerged from the dead of night, only to greet the strange visitors. To them he was a stranger, yet Dahau immediatly recognized the man from his sillhoutte alone. The man with logs for arms was none other than Smrt. An aquitance, to say the least.
It seemed that Smrt ushered caution with these strangers, which is wise. They didn't know who they were dealing with, so spilling the beans on the most notorious guild in Fiore would be a foolish thing to do.  

However, the group did look rather useful. Definitly not your run of the mill type of knights. These weren't heroic adventures of valor. No these were of a different breed, the kind that knows the world isn't build upon  fairy tales, but rather the blood of the defeated. Maybe they should extent an invitation to these so called knights and their noble leader, at least for the night.
The moment the knights decided to dissappear once again into the darkness, the door to the nearest inn swung open. And from it Dahau entered the fray. However his attire was different than usual, gone was his battle armor and the long cloak. Concealed by magic, instead he just looked like your typical bartender wearing simple brown pants an linen tunic. Held together by a worn belt, with several dirty cloths stuffed between.
''Oh my'' he shouted ''you lot must be weary from your long travels'' Dahau sounded eagerly, as if he really was planning on earning a pretty penny. In reality he was just continuing the lie Smrt begun with, instead of revealing the real Savage Skull right away it was better to test these forsaken knights first. ''Why don't you stay the night here, surely it isn't the finest establishement a man of your stature would be used to. However my mead is decent enough to drown your sorrows in! And my wife Sheila makes a damn fine stew if I say so myself.''

For a moment his eyes glanced over towars Smrt, hoping that their eye will meet so that he knew that these lot were about to be tested.

Godfrey heard a voice calling for them, his mail crinkled as he moved his head to the direction. There was a man just outside a building with burning lights. Wh’re those lights on all yond time? Godfrey halted his horse and the others of his companionship did the same. He studied the man for a moment, an innkeep’r? He turned his horse about and stepped towards the man. He removed his helmet and stared at the innkeeper. Yond bear knoweth more, we shall stay, thought Godfrey. He sighed, “Two beds and one barrel of ale.” Godfrey looked at his men, “Mine gents shall catch but a wink outside, and they shall take careth of the hors’s. Doth thee have enough hay for them?” Godfrey dismounted his horse and gave the reins to Galen. He walked passed the innkeeper and said, “Giveth me a sleep chamber with the least fleas and poureth me a glass of wine shall thee.”



He walked to a table without waiting for an answer. Godfrey placed his helmet on the table, which took quite some space due it’s antlers. He took off his mail and the padded coif and removed his gauntlets. Placing them in a pile next to the helmet, the last he did was unbuckle his belt on which his sword hung and placed in the table. The grip in hands reach if problems would arise. Then he sat down and briefly looked around, there were some people around. The most wondrous questioning method is alcohol and not t’rture, thought Godfrey. He had experienced with this, peasants will say quite a lot when they are drunk enough. But t’rture is the most wondrous thing, said a different voice in his mind. Godfrey shook his head as dismissal of that though. Not now Bator. “I has’t bought a barrel of ale for mine own gents, they can’t finish it alone. Innkeep’r, drinks art on me.” His men could easily drink a barrel of ale in truth, they where low spawn brought high by Godfrey to ensure that he had loyal men. Men that did not have ‘noble’ vows of chivalry. In the end, that decision was a good one yet he does miss the more refined companionship, even if they didn’t understand him. His men would soon enter the inn after they had taken care of the tents and horses.

While the stranger ordered a keg of ale for the entire tavern, most of the local men who were stowed away in the shadowy corner, didn't cheer or showed any sign of gratitude. Instead they just kept to their corners, drinking their stale beer from the dirty mugs the bartender provided, while throwing suspicious looks at Godfrey's direction. Clearly they weren't the warmest bunch.

The innkeeper at the other hand was enthusiastically clapped his hands together upon hearing that he could sell an entire barrel of booze. Obviously this was all an act, to make it look like as if he was just another money grabber, eager enough to earn a pretty penny at every occasion.
After Dahau opened the keg, he walked over to Godfrey while polishing an ironclad mug for the man. Not that it did much, the cloth he used was already filthy and probably made it more worse than actually cleaning it. 'If you don't mind me asking' he started as he approached the Godfrey 'What brings you lot all the way out here? I mean there isn't much around here except our humble yet dwindling village'

'oooh how cryptic' responded Dahau 'So Y'all are on the run huh, well I don't judge, at my inn everyone is welcome and safe from any kind of pursuer. And if it comes down it, I am good for a good ol' scrapping myself I have you know it hahaha'

So the stranger and his men were on the run for something or someone evil. For Dahau this was an interesting concept because now these men weren't the only prospects for the guild, but the very being they were searching protection from as well.
In the meantime, Dahau, who pretended to be the innkeeper had scuffled away to the kitchen only to bring several wooden bowls with a steaming stew in it. In it chunks of bread floated around, gradually sucking in the moisture from the cook's creation while slowly breaking apart. 'Bon appetite!' he said ' That's Minstrell for enjoy your meal!' It was obviously wrong, but right now Dahau still pretended to be a dumb innkeeper who was trying to entertain his guests in the hope they would drop a pretty penny or two. 'Oh I know it's not of my business good sir' he continued the moment he came around to serve Godfrey 'But to my knowledge as when you are looking to protect yourself from a bully, you look for a bigger and meaner bully to help you out'