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“You seem to be in charge, sir. My name is Virtus, son of Fidus. I am a soldier in Lord Delernious’ army. I was curious if you might tell me where I am?”

Vulferym looked down his nose at the man – Virtus – who stood before him. Seem to be in charge, eh? Seems this man has more manners than the others. 

Vulferym drew in a breath to answer, but the lad from earlier spoke up.

“Hypothetically you’re in Baron Javier Vulferym’s castle, which said castle is an activist in plotting our demise.”

An expression of something like terror came over the lad’s face, and he was down a row of shelves and out the window before anyone else could speak. But then – there he was, back in.

“So the only potential way out is up, the height of the castle would estimate…seven or eight days to reach taking into account the winding nature of the…” he trailed off, turning red. Then bolted back down another row of shelves, disappearing from sight. The lad with the sling followed.

In the somewhat awkward silence that followed, Vulferym smiled, and returned the man’s salute as close as he could manage.

“It seems the lad answered your question for me, my good Virtus. You are indeed in my uncle’s castle. I am, as you presumed, ‘in charge’. My name is Commander Olavir Vulferym. I regret to say that I have not heard of this Lord Delernious. Is he stationed in Ikarial, perhaps?”

“No, sir, he isn’t.” Virtus seemed to hesitate a moment, as if he was thinking about adding another sentence, but he remained silent.

“Mmm. I must remember to ask my uncle if he knows of him.” Vulferym lifted a hand gracefully, studying his fingers.