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[Lady LaBelle]

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Strolling the path as oft she did, the Lady LaBelle took her time on the road leading to the estate her and the Lord Majere had acquired. Absentmindedly she hummed a tune Sefana use too. Stopping shortly outside the cities limit, she recalled that she must retrieve a garment she had locked in the banks’ chest. LaBelle turned to return to east Britain. The sun setting, she made her way back through the various merchant homes, and arrived to the mint. “Minter, please fetch my bank chest.” she called out. None answered. She glances round the room and saw no one, odd she thought. Moving closer to the back row of chests, she heard voices coming through the door. The tones were distinctly female, but she could make out no words. LaBelle moved closer, still wondering where the minter was, when the door came ajar, a slender hand slipped through and the voices, for moments became audible…
“…she is plain, her mannerisms easily duplicated.” Came the woman’s voice, matter of factly.
“Aye. Let our own woman, ” the voice pauses, “step into position and right the wrongs of this inadequate leader.” Another, voice, hinting of anger, “My father was a good man, what happened to him in Moonglow…” LaBelle stares to the door, as the minter steps through closing it gently behind her. The paladin woman quickly cast her eyes downward. “Can I help you lady?” she asks. Wringing her hands gently, she replies, “Aye, if you please, fetch my bank chest.”

Kneeling, LaBelle sorted through the contents of her bank chest for some time. The voices carried on the duration. When the door opened, four woman exited, one heavily cloaked woman looked up from beneath her hood in LaBelle’s direction. Making brief eye contact the woman briskly lowered her head once more and exited with the other three women. Something about the woman, familiar…the resemblance was there…LaBelle shook her head slightly, by light of lanterns, and concealment of robes, it could truly have been any …but those golden eyes.

Finishing her business at the mint, LaBelle took light for her own lantern, and headed towards home. Thoughts from the conversation entering her mind. She approached the estate, slipping her soiled sandals off at the door front. LaBelle called out to the house lady, “Water, clean cloths!” The woman appeared from a storage room, with a bow of her head she silently moved to the barrel of water, filling a small tub. LaBelle set to a near chair in waiting as the woman approached. She lifted her feet and placed them into the tub, leaning forward she began to rinse the loose soil from them. The house woman knelt next to the tub, producing a cloth with which to dry the lady’s feet. LaBelle smiled to her, “Thank you kindly, I will take some wine with bread, and Yew cheese in the reading room if you please, Nora.” With that, she excused herself and ascended the stairwell. Turning once half way inclined, “As soon as his lord Majere arrives home, tell him his lady wishes to speak with him.”