As one's eyes adjust to the darkness inside the building, one can see that everything within is neat and orderly, with everything put up where it should be. The device near the man sized door is a lever, apparently connected to nothing. The floor inside the building is sand over stone. Around the work room, you can see anvils, wire dies, a quench tank, a furnace, and another door on the south wall. You guess that it is roughly 12 paces on a side, square.
There are 2 large features in this room that stand out, central in the large work area. There is a large crucible on a stand; It is roughly a pace high, nearly that across, and a handspan thick. It is made of fired clay, with the inside glazed. The stand it is on is a marvel of ingenuity, a contraption of gears and a large handwheel. It sits perfectly balanced in it's four footed stand.
Then there is the forge. Instead of charcoal or coal, it is simply filled with sand, and is exceptionally large, about 2 paces across. It has no hood for venting smoke to the outside, like most do.
Daggin stiffens a bit at the small creatures so near, as his previous Covenant had taken great pains to keep all fae separate from within their Aegis, but he relaxes again as the situation falls into place- Mab, the healer, the center of the Covenant grounds, and so on. Many Covenants enjoyed good relations with the local minor fae, and were unconcerned with them.
Daggin nods to the spite by his feet, not a small bit pleasantly amused at the Frankish, and answers-
[Frankish]
"Indeed, small sir Puck- we shall keep that matter between ourselves, then...", and finishes with a wink between the two.
Then, he looks to the peasant child, and considers a bit- he is unaccustomed to being familiar with the help, but this one's plight and position strikes a chord in him that he finds difficult to ignore.
[Latin}
"That is most acceptable, my good child. And one can tell at a glance that your duties have been most admirably pursued. There are some few new magi here, and so you may have some new neighbors, but none to concern yourself over. I am sorry that I do not know when Lady Sylphie may return, but I wanted to take a look around for now..."
As he moves deeper into the residence and eventually upstairs, he turns his attention back to the two fae-
"Kiara, and ..." (he waits for the other to name himself, if he so chooses), "... how many of the fae are on the covenant grounds, and do all the residences have their sprites and brownies and such, or are you the lot?"
"Me name's Bram. There are only a few of use here, helping out where we may. Lady Mab gives us a token of welcome, and bides as not to cause mischief." He displays a ring, being worn as a bracer. "Since 'Delia, our Lady of the Court, holds Mab in very high regard, her request is treated as law." He shrugs, then continues. "'Tis not so bad; Robin tells of worse arrangments made in other lands. There are places where mortals are not allowed without invitation. Lady Mab will tell you of these soon enough."
Brit answers, in Latin. "I suppose it's OK, so long as you don't go into the rooms upstairs. Lady Sylphie said they were her sancta, whatever that means. I just think it's a room where she can go and do those adult things without sprites or children watching..." she chuckles at her bit of ribald humor.
"Dinner will be served in an hour or so, and I'll have to close up then. With your leave, my lord, I'll continue with my cleaning..."
"Indeed this is the lab of a brother, though I am surprised that he worked here alone without companions. I hope he has some texts in the library detailing these devices, for it will take a few seasons to understand them all."
He crosses the room to the door in the south wall and examines it for markings.
[Assuming there is nothing that screams "Danger"]
He knocks loudly on the door, and then tries to open it.
Daggin's brows went up a bit at the mention of "Sancta"- he had thought Dierdre had cleared all such out, but now wasn't sure.
[Latin]
"Of course, carry on, child. I'll may just pop upstairs without disturbing anything...[/b]
As he goes toward the stairs, he asks
[Frankish]
"Bram, the maga's sancta should have been removed- do you know anything of that? Has Dierdre peered in upstairs?"
"Aye, the fire witch did," nods Bram. "Howe'er, the girl wouldn't know, since the sancta sign is one you have to see. She was told not to go upstairs, and she hasn't." Bram shrugs. "It should be safe t'go upstairs and look, though - Lady Sylphie wasn't one to do harm to much of anything."
The door is a well carved wooden door, having no markings. It does have a glass window, perfectly clear. However, it is locked. Peering through the glass, you can see at least 2 suits of armor on stands, with attendant weapons and shields. The few furnishings visible are indicative of a fair amount of wealth.
Daggin nods in comprehending his mistake, privately feeling a bit the fool but outwardly maintaining a thoughtful mien and nodding knowingly, and proceeded upstairs to see what there was to see. A couple formulaic spells to determine any existing enchantments, and get a feel for what the labs and space had to offer, and then, with a word of thanks and farewell to any of the three that he sees on his way out, across to repeat the process within the bronze-walled labs of Glendower.
The stairs end in a landing, with a closed door. There is evidence of where a plaque hung on the door, and no evidence of a sanctum mark. The door opens easily.
Within is a sitting room, with windows facing the south, letting in much light. There is a reading stand in front of the windows, and a tome lies on it, closed, with a ribbon marking a page. There is a desk, tables, and several chairs. Many of the cabinets on the walls are locked. A door leads from this room into a bedroom. There is a 4 poster bed, an armoire, a silver mirror, chest, vanity, and a painting.
The painting is unlike anything produced by mundane artists; The image is life-like, and looks almost real. Diedre and Mab, he recognizes. Torsten he assumes the massive man standing behind the pair. Kallias is easy to guess, he dresses much like any noble would, in rich clothes died with expensive dies. Glendower is next, the man was nearly as pale as a corpse, but wearing robes proudly bearing the symbol of his house. Sylphie, maga ex misc, was white. Her dress was the white of homespun cloth, her complexion pale, her hair slightly paler than her skin, and pale blue eyes, sparkling with laughter. She looked like a creature of snow caught out in the summer.
The room smells of having recently been cleaned with something strong.
Fabrica's breath quickens as he crowds the window with Mathius.
"Ah! Our predecessor's wares! Magnificent craftsmanship! Is the door locked? Can we open it? We must be able to examine those!" Fabrica is often reserved, but certain things do rouse his passion.
The outer door to Glendower's bunker (the only word to describe it) opens easily. However, the inner door, which looks more like a modern vault door, complete with an insanely complex lock, does not. In fact, it is securely locked, and sealed with lead around the door. After one attempt to determine if there is a magical seal as well (and failure due to the Aegis), you realize you will just have to wait to gain admittance here.
As the day slowly makes it's way to evening, after many attempts to open doors, pick locks, and even break windows (or try to), everyone finds themselves back out in the eastern cluster of labs. From this vantage, you can easily see the entrance.
There is something of a commotion at the gate. The stomping and neighing of horses, the shouts of those who lead, and the clamor of those who labor. Both Diedre and Mab can be seen there as well, talking to a much smaller group of people - three - who are dressed somewhat differently than the rest. One looks like one of the old roman statues come to life, with blonde hair, square jaw, trim build, and authoritative air about him. Standing behind him, to his left, is an armored figure; The armor is a copy of the roman lorica, the heavy banded armor of the common roman soldier. The flowing scarlet cape and sword he carries helps complete the image of a legionnaire returning home from the depths of time. The last is a man dressed in well worn travelling clothes. He might seem unremarkable save for the fact that the clothes are in better condition than most people's new clothes. Several other little things, seen from this distance, mark him as a step above those unloading the wagons. He spots the group, and waves in a friendly fashion, before turning back to the others.
A young lad, perhaps no older than 10, runs up to the assembled group, nearly bolting in fear in the presence of those whose gift hangs like a stench around them. "Y-y-your pardon, good masters," he stammers, "Lady Diedre says dinner will be served shortly. If you could make yuir way to the feasthall..." and with that, he bolts down towards the cots, and then after a brief stop, towards the gates. After stopping there, he runs across the courtyard, and into the feasthall.
"Looks like we're going to have something interesting to talk about at council," Stephan says to no one in particular as he limps his way over to hall.
Seireadan is wandering (almost skipping at some points) about and peering at the nearby flowers and woods as the main group talks, committing a bit of a faux pas by not introducing himself, though he certainly doesn't seem to notice, having found a small sprite hiding behind one of the trees. It now stands on his palm and he seems to be having a chat with it, though he's far enough away from the group that no-one can make out specifics.
Eventually, either one of the covenfolk or the traders draws attention to him and beckons him over, the sprite quickly disappearing back into the wood. He skips over to the main group. "Ah, sorry... I'm Seireadan. This is Loch Caillte yes?.. sorry I'm late, I got lost.. but I knew if I travelled around enough I'd find it, that's how things usually work after all"
By evening Fabrica returns to the dining hall, divested of much of the fancy outer clothes he came in with. His lean and muscled body is dusty, grimy and sweaty, his hair is undone and it's easy to see he's been hard at work. Between trying different methods of opening the doors at the old Verditius's labs, trying a few spells, and unpacking what he can in his temproary residence, he seems pleased with himself though, a good day's work in his new Covenant. He stops at a rain barrel and dunks his head in briefly to clean his face and hands before dinner, donning a simple linen shirt afterwards.
Once prepared he enters the dining hall and awaits a bit awkwardly, not knowing where to sit so as not to offend host or guests.
Stephan chuckles a bit. "How rude of me. Stephan Jerbitonis and I'm pleased to meet you." Stephan pauses and then points to the others in sequence.
"That is Corvus ex Bjornear, and, yes, the name is descriptive. Over there is Rhiannon of House Ex Miscellania, a very personable young maga. That boy over there is her son attended by his nurse, Belle. The well dressed fellow is Daggin, also of Ex Miscellania though I suspect he is a little more familiar with the higher end of society. Those two over next to the table are from House Verditius, Mathias and Fabrica (Fabrica is the dripping one) and one of our hosts Mab (don't let her girlish looks fool you) with her wolf familiar. Our other host, Diedre Flambonis, is dealing with something at the gate, currently, but I expect her to join us soon."
"So," he turns back to Seireadan, "I think that accounts for magi. Lots of new colleagues."
Hiding both his frustration and mild fatigue, Daggin peruses the inscrutable entrance to the Bonisagus' labs. He tries spells both formulaic and spontaneous, and takes his time to ascertain a way to gain access, but to no avail. His frustration is evident on his face, or would be if any were there to witness it before he has the time to rest and compose himself.
Once his usual public demeanor has been regained, he then wanders over to the Armourer's lab, perhaps just as the other two are leaving, and Daggin shares his frustrations, perhaps in exchange for accounts of similarly stymied efforts from the two Verditius.
"Mathius, Fabricus- what luck? It seems that if Dierdre did indeed enter these labs (and I wonder if she did so thoroughly), she left no doors open for the idly curious..."
He goes on to recount his time in the Healer's labs, and describe what little he encountered of the Bonisagus'.
"So, Sodales, any interest in those labs of your late House brother?...", he asks, with a half-smirk that implies the question is more rhetorical than interogative. "Who is then to move in?"
Daggin allows his attention to eventually wander toward the hubbub, and the capering figure that Stephan is addressing, but not before a lull in the present conversation.
"A late arrival? Or the traders Dierdre mentioned, perhaps - or both. If future sodales, we could do worse than encourage them to join our collective agreement regarding the labs- tho' I must confess, altho' I am still willing to work toward the betterment of the Covenant as a whole, I have as yet found nothing that is truly suitable to me."
Daggin eyes this last, and gives a slow, single nod in response, then returns to trading any notes on the various labs that have so far been examined.
Daggin listens to but does not otherwise acknowledge the page, and takes a deep breath of the gathering evening air, letting it out in a self-satisfied sigh.
"To the feasthall, then, but I'd think we have ample time for a stop at the one western lab, of our departed Jerbiton mariner..."
He strides with purpose in that direction, casting a parting look toward Stephan where he speaks with one of the newcomers, and enters the lab with the crow's nest with confident curiosity, casting a quick (and easy) memorized Ignem spell if need be to light the inner rooms. He will make his way up to the crow's nest itself if accessible, and see what there is to see, and then descend and mvoe directly to the feasthall, a quick and minor PeTe spell to remove any dust or such from his person before he enters there...