Greenly folds her arms and huffs, pointedly staring out the window.
"Nothing would delight me more," Photinè answers. She smiles widely at Chana, obviously quite smitten with the idea. "The mysterious Betony heir and her enchanting envoy. We'll be the talk of the party!"
When Amandine realizes the estate Lady Lotheed is referring to is an actual estate and not an edible, she pulls herself away from the window to listen.
After Lady Lotheed's full explanation Amandine can't help but chuckle at the ironic humor in it. "So, who wants to volunteer to teach me how to order you around convincingly?"
She reads through her new genealogy a couple of times to memorize it, then tucks it away.
Noticing Greenly is put out when Chana declines her offer, Amandine assures her "you can bodyguard me all you want Greenly."
She asks Lady Lotheed a few more questions in line with those the others are asking.
"Does Lord Bartleby have any particular pressure points you know about that could be useful? Strong likes or dislikes? Fetishes or obsessions? Dirty secrets he'd rather keep private? Even guesses on your part about him could be useful."
"What about the neighbors? Who are the most important among them? Do you know which among them are strong Lotheed supporters? Are there any less enthusiastic ones who might be peeled away from Lord Bartleby more easily?"
Of course Amandine noticed immediately when Lady Olivia turned cold toward her. It isn't hard for her to guess why either. Amandine is disappointed, Olivia seems nice enough all in all, but she can't be very surprised. In some ways the point of being upfront about things is to prevent them from being surprises later on when they can be more hurtful in a developed relationship.
At least I now know where not to try too hard because my efforts won't be reciprocated.
Still, it is also possible Lady Olivia reacted to something she found very shocking in the moment, but will adjust to given time. Amandine decides to leave a bridge open just in case it might be so. She's certainly not going to apologize to her for anything. Amandine isn't sorry about any of her past choices, and isn't going to become so just because the people she's now rubbing shoulders with might think she should be. There's been little Amandine has seen that would suggest even those with considerable empathy among Lady Olivia's class have any real notion of how the world works for most everyone who isn't a member of their tiny little sliver of humanity. But it could be possible to arrive at some limited mutual understanding.
Amandine lets the subject rest for a while, saying nothing and steering as clear of Olivia much as the other woman seems to desire. But eventually when the chance to speak with Oivia alone arises on the journey to Merrat, she does so in a way she hopes will leave a future opening between them.
"Lady Olivia, Thank you for the time and attention you've given to Calix recently. I know he's very taken with you. It has made him happy. I appreciate what you've done as well. It's a very difficult age for him. He may be 14 years, but he isn't in the same way those who are fully human are. His friends are moving onward toward adulthood faster. They're leaving him behind and he feels it. I remember his age well. It's very painful. For a while now I've been worried he would try to compensate by doing foolish, risky things to keep their attention. Now that he's out of our old neighborhood I'm less concerned. But it has been wonderful to see you and Greenly especially show him he's worthwhile. I can't do that all by myself."
"The Jubilee is an annual sort of founder's day celebration," Martella responds to Chana's question. "Local tradition claims that when Count Markolian Stavian broke ground for the palace some eight centuries ago, a scarlet tanager landed on his shovel and sang his praises. It's a day off for the lower classes, but the aristocracy celebrates with two days of feasting, games, dancing, tournaments, and a hunt. Making a good showing at the jubilee is an excellent way to win influence with neighbors in the county."
Martella clears her throat before speaking of her half brother, in reply to Amandine.
"Bartelby is charming, graceful, intelligent, but arrogant and casually cruel. Much like my other siblings, he will rarely let you forget that ours is an old-blood noble family with genealogies tracing back to Azlanti settlers.
As for Bartelby Lotheed, you know that he has only contempt for the common peasant and feels they should know their place and remain quiet. Invoking any sense of collective identity or compassion for the downtrodden raises his hackles.
As for the county itself, one of the rumors that has made it all the way from Meratt to Oppara is the rise of a figure known as the Night Swan. This masked figure attacks nobles estates and trade convoys traveling to and from Cassomir. The Night Swan has most recently been sighted in Meratt County and has become a bit of a folk hero among the commoners.
The strangely enlightened dire rat looks up cautiously, despite the rays of light streaming down into the upper class alley. An eager glint can be seen in his eyes, beneath his hood.
"Yes, yes. It is good," he says, accepting your offer.
"You say day off for people, but I'm thinking the feasts and tournaments and things aren't getting prepared and run by nobles, huh?" Chana snorts. "Servants don't count, is it."
She rolls her shoulders, physically preparing herself unnecessarily. "So. Plan's to break Bartleby's gang, make his supporters our supporters, and make things better for the common folk there if we can. I think we can do that. Photine's really good."
"Anyone know who all are Bartleby's biggest supporters?"
There are two supporters whom you know to watch out for, based upon your own knowledge of rumors and Martella's warnings.
The first is Lord Titus Lotheed-Casava. He is a cousin to the Lotheed family currently availing himself of Bartelby's good fortune. He is a braggart, a bully, and a slacker. Although he has little influence himself, his loyalty to Bartelby - if only to continue leaching off his cousin's largesse - means he could be a thorn in your side.
The second supporter is Sir Gul Guisarne, a half-elf who served the previous Count Lotheed as seneschal. Bartelby has retained his services, both to manage the estate and act as head of the count's "secret police," ferreting out dissent against the count's power.
You are also aware of rumors regarding one more notable member of the Lotheed family who lives in Meratt County: Bartelby's aunt, Duchess Veleto Lotheed. Despite being married to Bartelby's uncle, the Duke Panivar Lotheed, she has a reputation for being coquettish and allegedly pursuing trysts with attractive guests that catch her eye.
Chana mentions "Oi, wasn't that Cassava person at the Gala at the senate? I think he was an aide or something. People were talking about him being drunk all the time. Maybe we can use that?" and adds "We could watch out for Velveeta. I think she's a duchess or something. All married up, but she's got one of those rovin' appetites, if you get me. If we could match 'er up with someone, she'd be easier to distract, or maybe influence. I figure."
"We will be seeing Baron Okerra again as well, I hope so at least." Amandine mentions him with a tone of voice that suggests interest and approval.
"There is also a wildcard among the people we know of in Meratt. I've heard a little about the 'Night Swan' in taverns around Oppara. A righteous bandit who strikes at the wealthy. They've gained some popularity as a folk hero. If it's possible to make a friend of the Night Swan, it could be very advantageous to have them as a link to the common people there. We wouldn't need to rely entirely on the local gentry."
"A Knight Swan? Like, in full plate and all?"
Amandine laughs. "I don't think so, more the nighttime swan than the clanky metal swan."
"Yes, I've heard of this 'Night Swan.' My news is spotty, but I understand this shadowy figure has been stirring up trouble," she explains. "Robbery and vandalism mostly, but also some violence against Lotheed soldiers. They could be a valuable ally if they have some feud with my brother. Baron Okerra is less of a mystery. He's generally a fair-minded and compassionate man and would be a good ally. Fortunately, I believe you made a good impression on him.
"I almost forgot. My sister Cateline may still live in Meratt, and she is quite shrewd," Martella adds. "Of course, I would not necessarily consider her an ally of our brother, so even if she is still around, you may not need to worry about her. Also, I distinctly remember our neighbors, the Crabbe family. The family's daughter, Sepsinia, was a decent friend growing up. Her mother, Dame Crabbe, is a touch overbearing, though."
"The Night Swan sounds like they could be some help. Or, they could just be a stuck up thief who's gotten good at spinnin' stories about themselfs. We should go find her first, I figure. Would be good to work out what side they're on before we go tangling too much, yea?"
Chana rubs the bridge of her nose. "So, anything else you got for us Miz Lotheed? We got a lot of work laid out for us."
"You should know a bit about your new home. I've not seen the county of Meratt in over a decade, but I have fond memories. It's quite the pastoral wonderland: olive orchards and vineyards, and hills and ample woods to hunt game. The largest town you'll find is Lotheedar, near the Palace of Birdsong.
"Of course, there's also the village the Betony estate is expected to oversee as well: Stachys. From what I've heard, it's fallen upon considerable hard times. One of the best ways to endear yourselves to the locals would be to find way to improve the town.
"Then again, I believe the entire county, overall, is perhaps not as well maintained as the locals would prefer. Father was a competent administrator, if nothing else, but Bartelby has not inherited such talent.
"Princess Eutropia will be making a show of rallying support in Golsifar. Given the city's military leanings, it is almost certain to support Strategos Pythareus in his bid for the crown. More importantly, though, this will keep curious eyes far from you. As for myself, I will be continuing on to Cassomir. After Father's death, Bartelby explained in no uncertain terms what fates he would visit upon me if I ever returned to the estate. You will be far safer without my presence."
Martella suddenly remembers something, and she fishes around in her traveling bag. She withdraws a long, flat darkwood case. Opening it, she reveals three small glass bottles and a metal syringe.
"I do have one more gift to aid your mission. I've been experimenting with a memory-erasing poison that I've taken to calling Styx Oil. This should help you evade particularly egregious social faux pas or escape notice, as it wipes away the previous five minutes of the subject's memory, give or take a few second. Unfortunately, it is rather expensive and time-consuming to produce, so I can only offer three doses for now."
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"Lady Olivia, Thank you for the time and attention you've given to Calix recently. I know he's very taken with you. It has made him happy. I appreciate what you've done as well. It's a very difficult age for him. He may be 14 years, but he isn't in the same way those who are fully human are. His friends are moving onward toward adulthood faster. They're leaving him behind and he feels it. I remember his age well. It's very painful. For a while now I've been worried he would try to compensate by doing foolish,...
"It's not a problem at all." Olivia awkwardly cuts Amandine off. Unable to handle the pressure, she stammers on. "He's very nice and polite, well a little informal. He's been raised well. I've always wanted to teach someone how to fight, and he's keen, so it's been very fun."
The heat must be getting to her, since Olivia's face is getting redder by the minute. She's paused for a moment, but looks ready to dive into a monologue if presented the opportunity.
----------------------------
"Thank you, my Lady Martella. We will do everything in our power. For victory, for the heart."
Amandine did not expect Olivia to cut her off. Instead she figured Olivia offer a pleasantry or two but avoid any sort of direct and substantive conversation. As Olivia replies she watches her closely, trying to understand where the woman wants to take their exchange.
Posture is rather closed but not defiant, so she seems more uncomfortable than angry or annoyed. Responded to my topic rather than changing to a new one, offered a compliment not needed to respond appropriately to my words, she either wishes to create and opening for something or soften a blow to follow. Change in complexion is consistent with body language, she has something on her mind that is either highly personal, or about which she has delicate sensibilities. No noticeable pupil contraction, perhaps some dilation, my presence isn't in itself objectionable. Unsteadiness in her voice, She hasn't yet committed herself to her course, she is unsure if my reaction will be negative...
Amandine is fairly certain, based on on the clues, that Olivia wants to address the reason behind her change in behavior toward her, but can't pinpoint what she wants to say about it. If she is correct about Olivia's intent, she finds it surprising but welcome. She does what she can to help Olivia continue.
She forces her body to relax more than before, turning to face Olivia directly, and meeting her eyes without holding them until she's staring. She tilts her head just the tiniest amount to the side to signal curiosity and attentiveness. When Olivia stops speaking, Amandine waits for a moment before replying. Amandine keeps her tone of voice light and casual to avoid building more tension.
"You seem to having something else on your mind? Would you like to tell me?"
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Olivia tenses a bit in her seat and can't seem to maintain eye contact. There's a moment when she opens her mouth to say something, but clearly stops herself. She eventually stammers a bit and says "Well, I just uhm, well I always wanted to be a knight. It isn't official, but uhm, even honorary is good. So, I've always wanted to train a squire. I don't know if Calix is the right fit, but uhm, it's just nice to feel like I'm moving forward in my dreams. You know?"
She's backed away from it then, whatever it is.
It's obvious to Amandine that Olivia intended to say something else but decided against it. While she's curious, Amandine doesn't press the question. She sees her and Olivia's conversation as a very good sign. Whatever the exact cause of their rift, the division hasn't hardened and become permanent. Time and patience.
She is careful to react to Olivia's substitute topic as though she fully believes it is what Olivia wanted to tell her all along.
"A person may be fully invested as a knight but in no way represent the values, or honor the obligations it entails. A person can also not be invested with knighthood and be all that a knight should be. Which of the two of them is actually a knight? I think you have already achieved what you desire. Official recognition adds nothing to your worthiness. After all, a piece of paper just made me a Betony." Amandine smiles and holds up the genealogy, hoping Olivia understands the absurdity she's calling out.
"You can be certain that among all those here who know you, you are admired and valued for being all the things a knight should be. A paper or proclamation won't make you more so to us."
As she's speaking, a mental light comes on for Amandine. There's something that needs to be done, and maybe she and Olivia can do it together.
"Remember Kalbio? A title didn't make him a better person or weaver. It made him dead because Stavian mistakenly thought it made him better. Do you still have the letter? Something should be done for his parents."
Amandine is the one who takes the case from Lady Lotheed. She figures she's the person who is most likely to actually make use of its contents.
She takes one of the bottles from the case and holds it up, looking at the contents in the light of the window. "Can it only be delivered by syringe or are other means effective?"
At the line of discussion between Olivia and Amandine, Chana chimes in with "Amandine's right, all the papers and titles and garbage, all those don't make anyone any good. All I seen so far is that the people are more often guttershites when they're counts and dames. And knights and soldiers too." Chana's thoughts go back to those few times when the Opparan Constabulary was spurred into marching upon the Narrows. Killing everyone and everything in their way, clapping others into irons for so much as looking upset. The sewers were a good safe place at times like that.
"I figure doing good things for others is more important, yeah?"
As Martella continues to explain the increasingly complicated circumstances, Chana's head begins to spin. Too many names, factions, and places. She figures that Photine and Amandine might be able to keep all this straight, and she'd instead focus on supporting them. She does however ask "Sounds like we could do a lot of good out in Stachys and Lotheedar. We going to have time before the Jubilee for that? When's this big party from now?"
"I've found that injection is the most effective delivery method. It must be introduced to the bloodstream, so I suppose coating a weapon - a dagger, dart, or the like - could also work, but its efficacy might be diluted. Ingestion has shown...mixed results, at best."
A nervous smile crosses Martella's face when Chana asks about the time frame.
"Unfortunately, it'll be another four days before our - or rather, your - carriage arrives in Meratt. By my calculations, you'll arrive at your new estate on the afternoon before the jubilee. Hopefully that will be enough time for you to freshen up from the journey."
Besides the documents regarding your role as scions of the Betony family to review, Martella has also brought several novels and a couple sets of cards that you can all share to pass the time as the carriage rumbles along the highway north, out of the environs of Oppara and into Tandak Prefecture.
Chana scratches at her scalp, badly mussing the hair that had been arranged for the social event at the Porthmos Club. "Not much time. We'll be like squealers under the knife in that party. And helpin' the people that actually need help will wait until after the Jubilee's done." She eases back in the chair, feeling a little like Martella could have warned them about this all earlier.
She spends the remainder of the journey looking through the documents and rather unhappily trying to commit them to memory. It's something she's surprisingly good at, but its also something she doesn't enjoy very much. All the names and places and titles blend together and have to painstakingly be separated and categorized.
She sighs.
'Well, ain't no worse than Chammy's lessons, I figga.'
You spend the next few days traveling north, reading and playing cards in the carriage by day and staying in roadside inns by night. Finally, the Oppara Highway carries you across the county's southeastern border. Not long after, the carriage grinds to a halt. Peering out the windows, you see a makeshift roadblock has been erected from downed tree trunks and broken barrels.
A swarm of bodies emerges from the abutting forest and descends upon the carriage.
"Stay your hands from your weapons. These are no highwaymen," Martella implores you, a look of concern upon her face. "We are passing the forest that has come to be known as the Beggarwood. These poor souls you see are the residents driven into poverty by Bartelby's mismanagement of the county, turned to begging and selling what they can simply to survive."
Befitting Martella's explanation, you soon find a sea of hands outstretched towards the carriage, despite the coachman's efforts to shoo them all away. Although many offer a number of scavenged items for sale, most are empty and merely beg for alms.
Greenly sticks her head out the window, grinning. "Hidey-ho, ye, like, unwashed masses! What c'n I do ya for?"
Photinè leans out the other window with a handful of gold coins, and begins passing them out at random to the outstretched hands. "People of Meratt! Your suffering will no longer go unnoticed. In the coming days, we will bring you much more than mere gold."
Loud cries of surprise ring out as Photinè showers the indigent locals with gold. Most of them quickly catch and clutch the precious alms, running off before anyone can take the good fortune from them. In a couple cases, though, tugging matches break out over individual coins - and in at least one case, fists begin to swing.
One of the peddlers merely watches the show of generosity and eyes Greenly and Photinè carefully. A thick, scraggly beard adorns his chin in sharp contrast to the thinning hair upon his scalp. He shoves his way through the other beggars, redoubling their pleas, and calmly draws close to the window.
"You're definitely not friends of the count, I'd wager," he says. He strokes his beard thoughtfully, giving you a chance to notice that he is missing the two smallest fingers from his hand. "I'm gonna take a chance here. If'n you don't tell the count's bastard watch hound that we're selling above our station, we've got a few special items for sale. Magic things."
He briefly looks to his fellow peddlers before turning back to offer you a nod and wink.
Chana leans out the window as the carriage arrives at the blockade. Seeing them begging for money reminds her very very keenly of the Narrows, and considering her own dramatic wealth, he immediately starts rummaging through her pack for her leftover coins. Rather than just throw them out, she starts passing coins one-by-one to Snips and has him ferry them very stealthily into the pockets of the beggars distracted by Photine's more glamorous generosity.
When one of the peddlers comes close to offer some special magic items, she beckons him to come closer. "I'll take the wand, if you would. Better the coin go to you folk than the big shops in the city, I figga."
The sight and slight tug of a rat climbing their ratty clothing does not draw any attention from the beggars and peddlers. Whether Snips merely goes unnoticed or they are simply accustomed to keeping rats for company remains unknown. Nevertheless, they will marvel at the good fortune later found in their pockets and purses, perhaps leading to the birth of one or more new legends in the county.
Chana hands over her coin in a pouch and finds herself the owner of a slightly used wand of mage armor!
Once she's sitting back in the wagon, she turns to Martella, asking "I don't get it. What did this Bartelby do to make people so desperate? This isn't the Narrows. Plenty of land, lots of green stuff growin', animals too. Only way he could stop 'em from livin' off the land is if 'e was chasin' them down every day." She clears her throat, realizing that she unconsciously lapsed her speech. "Don't tell me that's what he's doing?"
Snips wiggles back into her vest as she speaks and she hands him another coin to deliver.
Photinè declines to buy any of the magic items, but thanks the seller graciously and gives him a wink, promising to keep his secret from Bartleby.
"I don't get it. What did this Bartelby do to make people so desperate? This isn't the Narrows. Plenty of land, lots of green stuff growin', animals too. Only way he could stop 'em from livin' off the land is if 'e was chasin' them down every day." She clears her throat, realizing that she unconsciously lapsed her speech. "Don't tell me that's what he's doing?"
"You are not terribly far from the mark, unfortunately," Martella sighs. "Thanks to Bartelby, the county's greatest woe is overtaxation. He has increasingly demanded too much of the people, and the nobles beneath him have largely followed suit. Anyone who can't - or won't - pay are soon visited by Sir Gusairne, who collects what is due and then some. Indeed, I've heard of cases where he does seize everything the person owns, including running them off their land.
"Such heavy taxation could almost be excused if the funds were used for serious infrastructure or relief projects in the county, but no - that is the county's second woe. All the money that Bartelby and the other nobles collect largely stays within their own coffers. They improve their own estates and gardens while the rest of the county beyond their hedgerows falls into disrepair."
"As rotten as you get, isn't he." Chana muses out loud, unconsciously flaring her nose with agitation. She gives the rest of the team a sidelong glance "Oi, I'm thinking we give Sir Guisairne a social visit during the party. Anyone else interested?"
"Do you mean like, let's tie him up and beat him? Because sure, but it'll prob'ly get us uninvited from the County."
Chana pauses, hearing Greenly's suggestion makes her think for a moment about the lessons she got on proper decorum. "That's what I was thinking, but... maybe lets not get thrown out right away. We've got people to influence to help the Princess. And doing it from outside the party's going to be hard."
"Although I'm sure most of our current company would relish seeing Sir Gusairne beaten," Martella responds to Greenly, gesturing out towards the beggars, "We must be far more cautious. Speaking to him at the jubilee may be a good idea, as you can learn about this adversary. However, you should be very careful not to make yourselves targets. Simply by virtue of being new arrivals to the county, you will be objects of curiosity in his eyes."
Once the party has finished its business with the denizens of the Beggarwood, Lady Lotheed is eager to direct the coachman to speed the carriage on its way.
The befriended beggars remove their roadblock, allowing the carriage to roll onward. You pass through the pleasant, pastoral county as the highway winds past rolling hills and pockets of verdant forest. On first glance, you could easily imagine aristocrats taking the Oppara Highway north to vacation in the picturesque region. However, you soon enough witness the decay that Martella has spoken of.
Passing through the fishing village of Pensaris offered a glimpse, but once the highway switchbacks to the northwest and carries you to hardscrabble Stachys, you can see the full extent of the county's disrepair. Swathes of fields lie fallow, and the roads are overgrown. The dwindled population dwells in cottages with bowing walls and sunken roofs. On the edge of the village, the wooden blades of the windmill still lie where they fell apart, the jagged beams looking like broken bones. The few locals who catch your eye offer wary, guarded looks as you pass.
A weed-choked cobblestone road switchbacks along a low hill, leading up to the fine, if faded, estate. Brambles and thick undergrowth crowd the gardens, while ivy creeps up the two-story marble facade. The building's windows are shuttered, and its main doorway is barred and gripped by a great iron padlock. A tower, clearly far older than the main house, rises from the structure.
Oddly, a second, smaller and more austere coach sits waiting before the estate. Martella explains that this is her ride, meant to carry her the rest of the way to Cassomir. Before parting ways, she makes sure to pass along the key to the padlock so you can enter your new home.
Although she passes some coins to Chana for her rat to distribute, Amandine says well away from the carriage window. From her hidden position she tells the others quietly "I think we should be very careful not to tip our hand. We're sure to be the object of curiosity anyway. The longer we can wait to express political or social sentiments the better. We will have more time to learn the lay of things here and prepare for what we will do before any who would oppose us can begin to counter us. If we remain innocuous our ability to act with surprise will be greatest. In fact, would you happen to have an extra cricket or two we can borrow to use Lady Lotheed?"
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
With key in hand and Lady Lotheed on her way, Amandine looks around at the others and then up at the estate's mansion.
"Shall we go inside and take a look around?"
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In response to Amandine's suggestion, Greenly rolls her eyes and blows air through her lips. Pointedly, the bodyguard taps a friendly peasant on the head, hands them a silver and asks, "Th' Count, like, come here often? Do any big wigs listen to you, or pay attention to your wellbeing, or, like, care even a little about what happens to you? Like, if the woods were on fire and you needed help, do you think word would, like, ever reach the Count?"
Regardless of the answer (and regardless of whether it supports or hinders her point), Greenly just sticks her thumb at the peasant and raises an eyebrow, all serious and smug.
"Whatever impression we leave on these folks isn't gonna matter, cause Bumblebee isn't listenin. If I've learned anything in the last month, it's that the people in power, they don't care about the little people. This country's, like, corrupt, Amandy. That's what we're here for."
The quarter-Ulfen, half-Garundi woman hands the same peasant a gold piece as thanks.
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At the manor, Greenly is just raring to go, waiting right by the door for someone to open it.
"Miss Mitchell picked out my outfit and I am very excited to see it, let's go, go, go," she stamps her feet impatiently.
Before she responds to Greenly Amandine closes her eyes for a moment, as if she's summoning extra patience. She then explains things again.
"Of course Lord Bartelby and his immediate circle aren't out and about chatting with everyone. They don't need to. They have people for that. This Sir Gusairne sounds like an example. He and his kind pay attention to what's happening and report to Bartleby. We've just arrived in the area so the chances we're being watched at this very moment aren't great. But we can't assume we're not expected and already under observation. We lose nothing by not underestimating Lord Bartelby and his friends, and what they are capable of finding out."
"Also, we're the Betonys and company coming to claim a significant position here. What we say and do does matter to Lord Bartelby, and we will be moving in his circle. If you're not being careful now, how can I be sure you'll be careful later? It's worth me mentioning it don't you think? I say we make the enemies we're going to make when we do something substantial to meet our goal. If we make our enemies because we're talking about all the things we want to change someday, we just make it harder for ourselves when it's time to act."
Back at the roadblock outside the Beggarwood, the man singled out by Greenly blushes. Much like some of his fellows, not only do her words resonate with them and evoke nods and growls of agreement, but several of the men are immediately taken with the strong woman.
.....
You walk up the short steps leading to the front door, turn the iron key in the lock, and step into your new home. The broad, colonnaded foyer contains a wide fireplace, an old Qadiran rug, and an arm chair and sofa draped in canvas, much like the rest of the furnishings you find inside the estate.
Exploring the manor, you find that it is in remarkable condition despite how long it has been sitting empty. The roof shows no leaks, the interior paint hasn't peeled, and the furnishings are all fairly dust-free, owing to their coverings. Even the fine features adorning the rooms, such as frescoes and statues, remain in good shape. In fact, the rich orange afternoon light that flows through the tall windows of the conservatory on the western side of the manor falls upon a vase of roses atop a table that remain in vibrant bloom.
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Greenly runs around inside, desperate to find convenient lodging.
"I want the biggest room," she shouts, tearing through the place. "Or one that's all windows so I can sprawl about, naked in the sun like a jungle cat!"
"How quaint," Photinè remarks as they enter the estate, looking all around. "A fresh coat of paint here and there, a new rug, some landscaping... This house could become perfectly lovely."
She does a slow walkthrough of the manor, making mental notes of things that need to be fixed or, in her opinion, updated to reflect the latest fashions. She lays claim to the room across from Greenly, so she can easily use the library as a quiet place to relax and study her spells.
Amandine does a walk around the house with Photine to assess the house's condition and needs. After that she goes upstairs to claim a bedroom.
Chana prowls through the house warily, her instincts from growing up in exclusively dangerous areas simply not letting her relax in such a place until she's combed it top to bottom for current occupants or surprises left by the previous ones. While the others are up claiming bedrooms, she and Snips start poking their noses in nooks and crannies to see what might lie inside.
Once she's satisfied, she grabs her things and starts descending down towards the cellar before Amandine's comment reaches her. "Right. If we're goin'ta play the part I guess that means playin' it 'ere too." She heads upstairs and eyes the bedrooms with great distrust. They're big. Big and not at all cozy. She resolves to find where all the bedding is hiding and do some upgrades.
While plumbing the cellars, Chana makes a discovery. Hidden behind a stack of old chests and casks, and disguised among the cool, gray stones, she finds a secret door fitted into the wall. However, she cannot find any sort of latch, switch, or handle with which to open it.
After examining the condition of the building - the walls, roof, floors, and other aspects - you come to the conclusion that someone has been maintaining the manor. However, you aren't sure if the work has been carried out by a caretaker assigned while the estate was in receivership or if Lady Lotheed dispatched agents to prepare the home for your arrival.
Furthermore, once Chana describes the hidden door she located, you are able to glean that it leads to a space beneath the tower rising from the main house.