The Ghastly Tales of Dalien Grieger: The Howling

Chapter Two: An Exceedingly Raised Nose

'Just wait here a minute will you!' Groundsman Friedrich insisted. 'We can't all just burst into Lord Kuntz's manor at this hour, it is highly inappropriate.'
  'The Kovanche are right behind us you pompous git!' Harvester Symon argued, pointing down the hill.
  'There is absolutely no need for name calling, Mr. Symon,' Friedrich reasoned, shaking his head. 'I believe we would all be best served if you could just allow me to announce our arrival. We wouldn't want to frighten them, would we?'
  'Fine, get on with it.' Dalien said waving a hand and looking back down the hill. There was no sign of the Kovanche yet, but Dalien knew it was only a matter of time. Soon the sorrow would fade, they'd ascend the hill, and the lot of them would be scalped.
  Groundsman Friedrich walked up to the manor, a large, white stone building, with dark wood facings. He stumbled and fixed his waistcoat, attempting to appear somewhat presentable. Tentatively, he knocked on the green, wooden door, and awaited reply.
  Dalien had yet to meet any of the Kuntz and was intrigued to see what kind of noble bastards chose to settle this far into the moors. He had heard stories of Duke Kuntz. A right honourable shit from what he had heard. Feared by the lower classes, loathed by the merchants, envied by the nobles, but most importantly, respected by the King. And in the end, if you had the King's favour, what anyone else thought of you mattered for bugger all.
  After an uncomfortable moment, in which Friedrich's brow became ever more lathered in sweat, the door opened, revealing a ridiculously short butler with an even more ridiculous pencil moustache. He bore a nose so bulbous it wouldn't look out of place on the face of a western hog, and an expression so posh, it was almost pleading for Dalien to slap it.
  'Yes?' The butler greeted Friedrich with a low, snobbish manner.
  'Good evening,' Friedrich began. 'Sorry to bother you at such a late hour. I was hoping it may be possible to speak with Lord Kuntz?'
  The butler frowned. 'It is a very late hour.'
  'Yes, I do apologise. I'm afraid it is quite urgent.'
  'Do you happen to have an appointment, sir?' The butler asked with a sigh.
  'Umm...no...but...'
  'I'm so sorry, I'm afraid you will have to come back tomorrow. The Lord is quite busy and...'
  Dalien strode towards the door with purpose and the butler looked him up and down. 'I think it would be best if you fetch your master, sir. I am not known for my patience, but there are, however, other things I am known for.'
  The butler's left brow arose with disgust, no doubt he had rarely, if ever, heard such insolence from a lowly Harvester. But as Dalien drew closer, and the butler took in the giant mass of Rhusian muscle and scythe resting upon the shoulder, his demeanour shifted swiftly, and a bead of sweat began to trickle down his pig-like features.
  The butler stuttered and shifted uncomfortably. 'Just a moment,' he said fearfully, and retreated inside the manor, closing the door behind him.
  'Are you mad, Grieger?' Friedrich protested. 'You're going to get us all hanged for pity's sake!'
  Dalien grabbed him by the collar. 'Listen to me carefully. Any man captured by the Kovanche will be praying to God for a good hanging. The moorland tribes are a brutal people, but the Kovanche are more than just brutal, they are vengeful. When the Echstad invaded their lands, their women and children were slaughtered. They will never forget that. I've seen the Kovanche skin men alive, and believe me, I'd rather be strung up any day.'
  The door opened once more, and the butler stepped outside, his nose exceedingly raised. 'May I present, the gracious and charitable, Lady of the House, the Duchess Ursula Kuntz.'
  The Duchess stepped through the door. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties, maybe early-forties, either way she was a striking woman. She possessed a round, heart-shaped face, with fair hair that was tied in a bun. She wore a yellow dress with light-blue trim. By all accounts, she was a very beautiful woman.
  'Thank you, Oswald.' She said and the butler bowed. She studied the ragged group, her look falling upon Nanook with a raised brow. 'What is it I can do for you gentleman?'
  Friedrich stepped forward and bowed ridiculously. He took her hand and kissed the back of it. 'May I just say you are delightfully enchanting this evening, my Lady.' He sniffed the air. 'And is that a Tianese perfume you're wearing? Quite lovely indeed. I happen to have a sister in Glosternberg, just north of Tiana. She is also fond of Tianese perfumes, though she tends to wear a floral scent herself. I have heard, in the times before the Holy Echstad, Tianese perfumes were often worn by...'
  'Groundsman!' Dalien urged. Lady Kuntz eyed him curiously.
  'Ah yes,' Friedrich began finally. 'I'm afraid, my Lady, we seem to have run into a slight spot of bother.'
  'Really?' Her eyes still strayed towards Dalien.   'What kind of bother?'
  Dalien answered. 'The plantation has come under attack by the Kovanche, my Lady. They have been subdued for the moment, but its only a matter of time before they are upon us. There is no use in running, they will hunt us down with ease. Our best bet is to fortify the manor house and hope to the goddess we can see them off.'
  Her eyes turned from curiosity to deep worry as she looked to Friedrich and then to the butler, both of whom were equally imbued with a look of worry and concern. 'Well, you best come inside then. Oswald, see them through, and fetch the boys.'
  Dalien put his hand on Nanook's shoulder, scowled at Friedrich, and entered the manor house. It was going to be one hell of a night.

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