Bronwyn: What's Going On? (Log 01)

The Count had asked Bronwyn to do this as a personal favor. In some ways that was worse then being given a direct order. The Black Rose barony was having issues; issues they were looking to the Count to solve. There was fear that a Barony from the Hidden Orchards County had "wandered" into the White Rose County. How this was possible was beyond the experience of the Count. Anything that was beyond the understanding of Count Percival simply became impossible.

This was why Bronwyn was asked to go investigate. Percival simply did not want to interrupt his schedule with this nonsense. But he also did not want to be accused of ignoring the concerns of his underlings. To him sending the Troll was the perfect solution. And of course she needed to go immediately.

Here she now stood on the threshold of The Black Rose. It was nearly 10 at night. The place looked warm and inviting in contrast to the damp fall weather they had been experiencing. Entering she was greeted by the aroma of fresh baked bread, hot stew and ale. Coming here was always like taking a step back in time. A few changelings occupied the place, some eating, others conversing. Behind the bar a young boggan dried mugs with a well worn dish tale. The Baron was not in sight.

Although Bronwyn had eaten earlier, the scent of the bread and stew was quite appealing; perhaps after her business with the Baron was complete, there would be time for a late dinner. The Count might not care much for the Black Rose, but Bronwyn begged to differ. She stepped up to the bar, smiling at Aaroc the barkeep.

"A pint of the Blackthorn for me, Aaroc, if you please. Is his Lordship about this evening? I'd like to speak with him, if he is."

Aaroc looks up from the mug in his hand, holds it up for inspection a moment before deciding it'll do, and walks to the taps, smiling at Bronwyn. "Sure, sure. It's always His Lordship, and never we commoners," he jests. "They always seem to get all the big blue beauties."

He sets the mug before her, on a hand painted wooden coaster with a unicorn head design, gold on green. "His Lordship is in the kitchen, I believe Dame Bronwyn," Aaroc says with mock court etiquette.

"Would you care to join him in his search for the next grail of pretzels, or shall I announce you and beg his attendance, since if you're not eating yet, you must have a right purpose for being here."

He smiles, asking with seeming innocence, "So what does bring you?"

"Business, not merely the pleasure of your company, I'm afraid," Bronwyn says mock-mournfully. "The Count has asked me to look into some matters that the Baron has brought to his attention. And since soonest begun is soonest done, I'd best join his lordship in the kitchen. Especially if I hope to enjoy a fine bowl of stew before closing time."

"Ah, Wonderland it is. Gotcha." Aaroc lays a finger aside his nose, and then points it at Bronwyn with a wink. "He's been sore about that, and I'm sure His Excellency can't be too happy, neither." He nods knowingly.

With a smile and a nod, Bronwyn picks up her mug and heads into the kitchen, pausing if Aaroc has something further to add.

Through the swinging doors is a kitchen of extremes. The room has some gleaming stainless steel surfaces that you'd expect to find in a modern commercial kitchen, spotless except where the Baron was working. The majority of the room would be considered comfortable clutter in a rather rustic feel. Iron kettles, and blackened cast iron skillets hung on all sorts of hooks, seemingly for someone smaller than Bronwyn's stature. There was even a pile of lumber for fueling the baking ovens, which the Baron was now stoking.

"Ah, Dame Bronwyn," he said turning as she entered. "I should've known that Percy would send you," he climbs a small step ladder and hangs a skillet back in it's place. He still has to look up the troll knight. "So how can I help you right this wrong? What need you of me?"

"Information, your lordship," Bronwyn says. "The Count was not specific on the nature of your troubles. He said something about a stray barony from Hidden Orchards that's wandering nearby. If I'm to send someone packing, I need to know who, and how I'll know I'm sending the right folk on their way."

"Of course, but I fear much of what I can tell you is couched in the common currency of my kith," the boggan replies. A smile quirks the corner of his mouth, "Although we do trade in it well enough."

Lord Sheldon turns over a kettle on top of the counter and sets atop it, leaning consipatorially toward Bronwyn. "As to 'friends' we're talking of the most unsavory lot. It's been hinted that he has dealing with many sorts of Prodigals, especially the blood-drinkers."

Bronwyn frowns.

"I haven't heard how he might've 'moved' the balefire of his freehold, but it's not impossible. We've moved the balefire within the Rose when we did some renevations, but it took a great deal of glamour."

He scurries down off the kettle and counter and back to his ovens as he continues talking. "It seems that Wonderland masquerades as a nightclub, one that caters to many of the mortal's baser desires, which can also attract the wrong sort of changeling. Especially with Lucinde's dark appetites."

Bronwyn nods in agreement, if not in approval. "Are there any further rumors as to what this Baron Shire might be doing here? An expansion of the Hidden Orchards at the White Rose's expense, or something darker?"

"I don't know. I've never met Lord Shire. But I know Roxanne, one of the local satyrs has, as has Glam, one of Black Rose's redcaps, of course he doens't think of himself that way." Sheldon removes some pretzels from the oven and sets them on a rack to cool, before looking back to the troll. "I'm rambling aren't I?" he asks rhetorically.

She frowns again. "If he has a crew of blood-drinking companions, a 'friendly' warning to move along may not be sufficient to get him to leave. Anything you can tell me will be useful in considering a longer-term plan."

"Yes, I suppose so. We first heard that this Wonderland had attracted some of the local wilders, when it was located in a warehouse in Biglerville." Sheldon picks up one of the pretzels, not seeming to notice it's heat. "But then it was gone when I took Aaroc to see it for myself after speaking with Lucinde on it. She had assured me that I was over-reacting."

He bites into the pretzel, thoughtfully. "When we arrived, the location was barren. They had moved what I was told to be a freehold, not a common thing at all. But that wasn't the curious thing, the problem was that the wilders were still finding it."

"More I can't tell you," Sheldon says. "If I could, well I wouldn't have had to ask His Excellency for his help. I can't abide Lucinde moving into my barony, nor this county, but she denies having anything to do with it and denies knowing of Lord Shire's location."

"I can't tell you where to find Glam, but I think Roxanne and her tragos is playing tonight at the Heartbreak Hotel in Littlestown. Find her and perhaps she'll help you find Wonderland. Find that and why they're in my barony and we can make decisions from there. No need rushing into things, eh?"

If Bronwyn has a reply to that, she does not make it to the baron.

Bronwyn smiles. "If you feel that way, I'll have a bowl of your fine stew before I go to find Roxanne, your lordship."

"Works for me," Sheldon says. "She'll probably not be there at least until 11, anyway." He's considering the pretzel now, more than Bronwyn. "Football game tonight, but it must be a home game, or she wouldn't be playing the Heartbreak."

"Thank you, Dame Bronwyn," he says by way of dismissal.

Bronwyn gives a slight bow in response to the dismissal and takes herself and what's left of her cider back to the bar.

Back at the bar Aaroc's finding another cider and setting it beside the still steaming stew and the dark bread with honeyed butter.

"Kept his attention for a while, but like so many other things around here, figured you'd be back by the time the next batch came out," he chuckles. "It's gourmet pretzels this week."

He leans over conspiratorially, "If I were you, stay clear of anything he offers you that's tofu inspired."

"That's all right, Aaroc. I only eat food," Bronwyn says with a perfectly straight face. Hard to tell if she's serious or just deadpan.

He returns to the taps to draw a few draughts for other patrons, a satyr who probably couldn't drink outside this establishment and his eshu companion, not much older.

Grabbing a bar towel and stepping back to the sink, not far from Bronwyn, he smiles. "So, now that His Nibs has briefed you, what do your really need to know?" There's a mischevious glint in his eye.

"I'm going to speak to a satyr named Roxanne, and, if I can lay hands on him, a redcap named Glam. And I'd be interested to know whether this Barony has brought any of its own folk with it--strangers, Unseelie, or especially Prodigals. What news does the realm bear of those things?"

Bronwyn settled in with her stew to listen to Aaroc. The Baron had known a little of what the trouble he was facing was, but he'd barely scratched the surface of what could be a very sticky situation. And while Barons were wont to hear certain things, those outside the courts heard others. A good barkeep was worth his weight in gold to a knight who wanted to know the tenor of the town.

"Roxy? She's a good enough sort if you're into fae with loose morals and indescriminate tastes in men."

Bronwyn lets that remark pass uncommented as she digs into the stew.

His smile softens what could be an insult. "Nominally the leader of her tragos, she's mixed up a bit with some of the local Mages, as one of her wilders is married to one. But I never heard that they were into what sort of things happen in Wonderland." He sets down the glass he's finished with and picks up another, examining it for spots.

"Now Glam, well he's a funny sort. Likes to play both sides against the middle. While he might've led some of the youngers to Wonderland, he's prolly not one that would want to get involved in all of this. He doesn't strike me as the sort to put his neck out for anyone or anything," Aaroc comments.

Bronwyn purses her lips, but doesn't say anything to that either.

"As to what Wonderland holds? Well, that's a sensationalism that even Boggan gossip can't hold a light to. I don't know what I could tell you about them that would hold true longer than it echoed about the room." Aaroc looks truly frustrated that he can't help Bronwyn more.

"Aaroc," says Bronwyn, "you've been a great help so far. Maybe when all this is over, I'll have a few wild tales to bring back to you." She polishes her stew bowl with the last of the hearty bread and finishes it all off.

"Excellent, as always," she adds, in reference to the food.

Aaroc smiles, and blushes a bit, as he clears her place. "You want to be getting along, if you're to catch Roxy before they start their first set."

He gives directions out through McSherrystown to Littlestown, left at the light and there on her left she'd find the Heartbreak Hotel.