"Man only likes to count his troubles: he doesn't calculate his happiness."
-Dostoevsky
"You go darling. Who knows? Maybe it will be interesting?"
That's what Margildt had said. Though whether she was speaking to you
Frederich or you
Emrys, who can say for sure? When Margildt says "darling" or "love" she means whoever it is that will end up doing it for her.
In this case, the particular something is attending a meeting. Horst, the senior redcap of the Tribunal, sent a note to her.
We have an important guest, who wishes to discuss some very profitable business with one of our magi. I immediately thought of you dear Margildt...
You both can imagine what Margildt's thought process was.
Horst is just a redcap.
Horst is the redap for the tribunal. Well respected. Actually quite versed. He wrote the text you both learned magic theory from even though he's not Gifted himself.
And of course it's never a good idea to get on House Mercere's bad side.
But still...he's a redcap.
What to do...what to do?
Ah. Just send the "boys". Someone shows up at this meeting and does...whatever. Margildt can get back to what actually matters.
Everyone wins.
You are both pretty confident that's how it went inside her head. And so, here you are. In a meeting room overlooking Fengheld's eastern garden, drinking some of Horst's personal stock of cider and listening to him tell you a story about when he was younger.
Horst is jolly. It's fun.
And then another redcap enters and whispers something in his ear.
"Oh! Splendid!" Horst beams at the two of you.
"Now, I will warn you. My guest is a little...different...than what you may be expecting. But our business is quite serious." He motions for the other redcap to open the door...
"I think Erich is thinking of leaving."
Peter, the captain of the Order of the Crossed Swords, sighs and finishes his mug of ale.
Vinter, you are seated with Peter in the common hall of Fengheld, having a draft. The news of one of your fellows considering leaving the Order is sadly not that surprising. You've heard Rostov and Gregory talking about it. If Erich is as well, that's half of you left.
Peter scratches his beard.
"What about you? Are you thinking of going?"
Affare, you gently but firmly pick up the cushion Velum has settled upon. Gerta steps through the doorway and nods at you.
You quickly but gently walk through into the meeting room and set Velum down in a chair before the two magi Horst had invited.
Emrys and Frederich, a third redcap entered, carrying a black cat on a cushion. He sets the cat down on a chair facing you and steps back.
Affare, Emrys, and Fred: I will let you three describe your characters as you like for the others.
The cat is quite good looking. For a cat. A long and muscular tom with fur as black as a starless midnight. The cat sits up, stretching, and cocks his head back and forth. He then raises a front paw and licks it for a moment, before setting it down and staring back at the two of you.
"Greetings," the cat says in perfect latin.
"My name is Velum. Whom do I have the honor of speaking with?"