pick a hill


Kennels
Castle Anvard


Lanisen is alone in the kennels, except for maybe fifteen hounds. They are mostly the graceful, long-legged, wispy-furred sort used to course after deer, with a few exceptions.

Nathen strides in, a lumpy sack in his arms.
Nathen slows his pace as he eyes each dog he passes speculatively.

Lanisen sits at the table, working over what looks like a report of some sort. He gets quickly to his feet when Nathen barges in. “Master Nathen,” he says neutrally.

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scrutiny


Outer Ward
Castle Anvard


[A part of the log is missing here, in which Nathan asks Lanisen what he was doing in the library yesterday and Lanisen answers that he was there because it was cooler inside. Nathen is mildly aggressive and uses the wrong names; Lanisen is shifty and skittish and doesn’t like being in trouble, even if he’s not really.]

Nathen spears Lanisen with his eyes as they try to pin him in place with a look. “Do stop that! I’m not going to eat you.” Nathan sniffs then continues in a more mellow tone. “So you have a curious mind? I must say that is most… surprising. And welcome in this den of dullards and thick wits.”

Lanisen is being interrogated by Nathen and doesn’t look like he likes it much. He rubs his elbow and frowns a little uncertainly. “Um…”

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skulking


Library
Castle Anvard


Haft exclaims, “In one example a knight said to another, ‘I will defeat!’ To which the other replied, ‘I will de-leg you.’l”

Nathen asks, “However it seems to find an audience with the more easily amused among the castle’s population. Perhaps something a bit more intellectual?”
Nathen turns to see Lanisen enter.

Haft says, “I need something in reserve for riddles with Lord Darrin, as it turns out. So yes, something a bit more intellectual.”

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