*The Verge of War* A Medieval Rp

Alfric looks around the corner. There's a small fire crackling happily away in the hearth. No ones around. Perfect. He moves quickly past the table, past the window, and up the dark stairs into the tower. From here he can get into the living quarters through a small hidden passage way, built in case of emergency. Though he had never used it before and did not quite know where it would come out. He runs his fingers along the wall, listening carefully incase anyone should enter. He feels a small notch and leans in closer to see. That's it, the door. He places both hands on the wall and pushes. There's a scratching sound and a small crack appears. He holds his breath and pushes again. After some struggle the door falls open, collapsing noisily onto the floor. Alfric jumps slightly, his heart racing. I hope no one heard that.
A long dark passage lays out before him. He coughs as the dust rises up into the air and covers his face with his sleeve.
 
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Linnet moved to the opposite side of the carriage to make space for Gwen and whoever else was coming.
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Edwin closed the door behind him. He was oblivious to Redd, who stood quietly, watching. Edwin turned left out of the door, away from Redd and Alena. He felt horrible about the situation he had placed the girl in, for he wasn't completely sure if she felt the same.
Reds smirked as the prince walked away. "Now what would his royal highness be doing down here?" He muttered. He stepped lightly to the door and stopped, his hand on the knob.

"Peter..who?" Jane inquired.


Alena head a small click at the door. "E-Edwin?" She hiccuped.
 
"Nicholson. Peter Nicholson." Peter figured that if she was going to keep talking to him, he might as well conversate. "And who, if I may ask, do I have the pleasure of speaking with this evening?"
 
Alena head a small click at the door. "E-Edwin?" She hiccuped.
Redd opened it. Oh great, the girl. He had his sharpened dagger in his belt. He could do it now, get it over with. But that wouldn't due, it had to be poison. Must look like an accident of the girl's own fault. "Oh, hey," he said, smiling slightly.
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"Nicholson. Peter Nicholson." Peter figured that if she was going to keep talking to him, he might as well conversate. "And who, if I may ask, do I have the pleasure of speaking with this evening?"
"Jane Forster, lady in waiting to her royal highness," Jane smiled elegantly.
 
Redd opened it. Oh great, the girl. He had his sharpened dagger in his belt. He could do it now, get it over with. But that wouldn't due, it had to be poison. Must look like an accident of the girl's own fault. "Oh, hey," he said, smiling slightly.
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"Jane Forster, lady in waiting to her royal highness," Jane smiled elegantly.


Alena frowned. "May I...er...help you?"

Peter grinned. "Its a pleasure to meet you."
 
Alena frowned. "May I...er...help you?"

Peter grinned. "Its a pleasure to meet you."
"Nah, no. I just got, uh, lost," Redd lied. In truth, he knew this castle Le the back of his hand. Getting lost was never an option here.

"And I, you," Jane nodded her head. Peter. Of course. She had seen him and heard his name mentioned on many occasions, usually by Edwin. She knew little about him, though, other than that he was a duke or something, heir to a large fortune and estate somewhere.

"Where could he possibly be??" Mariah asked, not necessarily to Audric.
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Alena was becoming nervous. "Aren't assassins required to know the entire castle by heart?

"So...how long are you staying at the castle." Peter asked.

Audric finally climbed into the waiting carriage.
 
Alfric uncovers his face and coughs again. The air was heavy and damp. The walls of the passage seemed to be crumbling, clearly no one had been here in decades. He cautiously places his hands against the walls, leaning in slowly and taking a step forward. There's a small glint of light in the distance. He walks himself slowly towards it, the rough ground scratching against his bare feet.
 
His palms are slimy and wet, and his feet are sore. He's close enough now to see what the light is; a small keyhole. He crouches down slowly and leans forward to peer through it.
 

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