Music: Into The ffire

Nini Music:

RoH: Forming Up

It was several minutes later and Isabelle had returned to the palace when an absolute bear of a man strolled over and said with a wide grin, "So, you're our unwelcome addition? Glad to have you."

Remant turned, looked him over, then offered a smile in return. "Remant," he said "Magus Isabelle has me working with Serevan."

"Jacques Tocard, Sub-Captain of the King's Own." The man offered a hand, and Remant shook it. It was solid grip, firm but not trying to prove a point. "I make it a habit never to argue with wizards."

"What can I do for you, Sub-Captain?" asked Remant. 

"Word is we'll be headed out in just a little bit. You two will be riding behind the Princess's carriage, and we'll have men in front and behind."

Makes sense. Remant nodded immediately. "I believe we can manage that," he said drily.

Sub-Captain Tocard chuckled. "Captain Greenwell doesn't like having you along, but that's mainly because he doesn't like anything he isn't in charge of. Do your part, and he'll come around... eventually. Meanwhile, most of the men -- including myself -- are glad to have a couple of magi along, especially one who appears to be acquainted with blade and bow. I'd just ask you both to keep your senses open for any sort of sorcerous mischief; the roads we'll be taking aren't much traveled these days."

"That's why we're here, Sub-Captain," put in Serevan, and Remant nodded again. Even leaving aside the possibilities of bandits, hostile natives, and rogue warbeasts, there were still plenty of stray spells and enchantments left from the war. Most were harmless, but not all -- and even the harmless ones could cause delays or other trouble.

"Good to hear it," said Sub-Captain Tocard. "We'll talk more on the road, I'm sure, but for now I'll leave you to it." 

Music: Valerie Loves Me

Material Issue:

RoH: The Staging Grounds

One of the stable boys brought Peregrine over to him, and he took hold of the reins just as another horse stepped up behind him. 

"Vard," said Isabelle. "This is Remant. He'll be watching over Serevan, and contributing to the general defense."

Remant bowed. 

Vard, who was seated atop a massive warhorse and wearing a full suit of enchanted plate armor, scowled. "His Majesty mentioned that there would be a late addition to the expedition. I assume that's you."

Remant straightened and nodded. "I know of no other."

Vard sighed. "Well, your horse looks sound enough, and you've a bow and blade -- though no armor, I see. Can you scout?"

Remant nodded. "Scout, track, and forage as needed. Although..." He looked over at the assembly grounds. "...perhaps not enough for a group of this size." He'd counted twenty armored men and women, a carriage, two supply wagons, and a dozen spare mounts -- an expensive investment, in the post-war world. King Dorrin hadn't been exaggerating when he'd explained that he'd committed everything he could spare to this pilgrimage. That was three additional drivers, all climbing into place, plus a woman who was settling the spare horses and preparing to lead them out. 

"Good enough," Vard said. "I'm Vard Greenwell, Captain of the King's Own. If I call a formation, I want you to move to the carriage, and defend it with bow, blade, or knife as needed. Without armor or a lance..." 

"I understand," Remant said, carefully casual. "I'll stay out of your way."

"Do that," said Vard, "and we'll get along splendidly."

Isabelle rolled her eyes, and Remant managed not to react. "That's my intention, Sir Knight."

Vard hesitated for a moment, then nodded and rode away.

"Do me a favor?" asked Isabelle. 

"What did you have in mind?" asked Remant.

"When you get back, let me know what that arrogant prick looked like when he finally figured it out."

Remant chuckled. "Oh, absolutely." This was why he normally avoided Magi; they could see things about him that he preferred to keep hidden. But in this case, it seemed that he had a friend -- or at least an ally. 

It wasn't as if he didn't have friends among the Magi; it was just good to have another.

RoH: The Reluctant Mage

"Remant, this is Serevan. Serevan, Remant." She turned to look at the young man -- Vanil, but clearly with some Aesil in his ancestry -- who was trying to get his saddlebags balanced on what appeared to be a world-weary, biddable gelding. "Remant will be working with the King's Own to protect the expedition. Serevan was second amongst Aeristes' disciples, and is my acknowledged superior in several fields of study." 

"...Which is I should be staying here, and you should be going with the expedition," the young-seeming man grumbled. "I'm better with the palace wards, truth spells, detecting and deflecting poisons... You're much stronger with battlefield magics."

"I know," Isabelle told him. "That's why I'm introducing you now. If you get into a battle, I want you to follow Remant's lead and do as he tells you. He doesn't look like much, but that's to his -- and our -- advantage. Just... think of this as a chance for both of us to practice the magics we aren't as strong in."

Serevan stepped back and studied the saddlebags for another moment. Then he turned to Remant. "All right, all right." He was still grumbling. "I'll do my duty, you know that." He paused to study Remant for a moment, and his eyes widened. A moment after that, he made the sign of the First God. "What in...?"

Isabelle shook her head. "He's a friend of the Crown, and for good reason. He also knows more about battle magics than the two of us combined."

Serevan shook his head. "They're woven all through you. How is that...?" 

Remant said, deadpan, "It's better if you don't know. That way if you're captured, nobody can torture it out of you."

Serevan just sighed. "Fine. Be that way. But you'd better keep me -- and the Princess -- alive."

RoH: A Favor Returned

He was waiting outside the palace gates when they opened, and this time nobody tried to ambush him. The same lieutenant was on duty, and she studied him for a brief moment before offering a friendly smile and a baffled shake of her head. "I had a feeling we'd be seeing you again. More business with the king?"

"As it happens, yes," Remant told her. "My apologies, Lieutenant Daschelle."

He didn't elaborate, and she didn't ask questions. She just walked him back into the palace and passed him off to the King's Magus again. She did give him another smile on the way out, and he made sure to smile back. Manifold Gods, he was rusty at interacting with people.

Isabelle Binoche nodded as she looked him over. "You should try showing up in dress clothes, one of these days," she said. "Especially now that you're Viscount Durzen. That blade would pass for a dress sword, especially for a retired soldier or someone with a similar background."

Remant glanced down at himself. "I own three outfits," he admitted quietly, "and the other two are even more worn than this."

The King's Magus shook her head. "You should commission one or two more, at least -- for when you make a formal appearance at court. Personally, I'm looking forward to the chance to talk to your steward, the former Viscount, since the King asked me to make contact with him and assure him that he would be accepted as your representative at Court and accorded all his usual honors."

Remant did smile at that. "Learn anything you can from him. The man has an understanding of magical theory that I almost completely lack, plus some ongoing research that I'm sure he's dying to discuss with someone knowledgeable."

"I was hoping so," Isabelle said. "Come this way. I'll have your horse brought around, but there's someone I'd like to introduce you to before the expedition departs."

Music: Breaking the Chains

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