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[Adrian Ildaw]

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Upon mid-day at shodaow's center, the noble son of Britain found himself reborn. From an alley he emerged, adorned in his finely cut trademark of black and red. The large hat atop his head obscuring the sun from his eyes as he looked into bustling city streets he knew and loved.

Adrian Ildaw had not visited this place as often as he used to, his sense of time ever more elusive in the home his turning had created. Still, he loved this place, and he loved the path on which his feet carried him.

Eager merchants lined the streets, impressing upon passers-by their wares with shouts and encouraging gestures. Adrian recognized some of them, some who had worekd for the family. One in particular caught Adrian's eye, a stocky elderly man who'd done business not only for the lord of House Ildaw, but for Adrian himself as well. Deciding he would be a good person to catch-up with, Adrian veered to greet him.

It was at this point that a noticible level of discomfort crossed the merchant's face. Adrian continued his stride, hiding the curiosity behind his eyes at this merchant's change of heart. He wondered what might have happened to cause such a reaction at the sight of himself, but paused mid step as something grander caught his eye.

Turning his head to look left, a marvellously ellaborate dress hung on the wall of an old crone's booth. He stared at it for a long moment, temporarily forgetting his earlier curiosities.

For the first time that day to his city he spoke.

Genny's birthday...

Had Adrian not been seemingly mesmerized by his new found realization, he might have noticed the old merchant nervously shuffling away.

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Four hours later, as the sun began its descent upon the horrizon, Adrian slowly strode up the long pathway to the looming family estate. This was Alasdair's house, and if memory served Genny had been staying here off and on herself. It had been five years but he knew his siblings would welcome him.

Dismounting his horse, careful not to let the dress he draped over his shoulder touch the beast, he landed lightly on the ground. A few moments later he found himself knocking upon the door. He prepared a smile for the greeting that awaited him, but quickly felt it fade as a suprisingly well dressed servent Adrian was unfamilliar with answered the door.

Hail, what have you there? I do not recall ordering any dresses.. Do you come bearing gifts? Who are you? Speak up, lad.

Adrian's eyes narrowed in confusion and anger, it took a moments concentration to resist his urge to physically bypass this man.

I am Adrian Ildaw, eldest son of the House and brother to Alasdair, Lord of this Estate. Fetch him for me.

Adrian's tone was less than patient. Too his surprise though, so was the responce that came.

You won't find any drunkards here sir, not in my house. If you seek an Ildaw I suggest you check the streets.

The door slammed in his face. Adrian blinked, his hand going to the dagger at his hip. This impetuous servent was betting with his life, but the thought gave Adrian pause.

He wasn't lying was he.

Where was Alasdair?