I'm thinking of a past set up for the tarnished, before they became tarnished and all the happenings in the Lands Between.
Vaughn makes a beeline to the small shed beside his cottage and counts the logs available. The cold never bothered him, the means to cook game did. His brazier or the makeshift stove the Carian Royal Knights has oh so generously lent him is his only hope to grill the Gold-pickled fowl foot he made a week ago.
There was something afoot at the Carian Manor. The knights, their squires even the scholars are milling about anxiously. It's something, Vaughn has been staying at his small cottage for almost two months now and this is the most action he's seen from the residents.
"Good Sir!"
He spots one of Carian Manor's Knights in the distance, waving at him. His state of dishabille suddenly hits him. Other than magic, these knights are well educated in the art of etiquette. An iota of embarrassment makes itself known.
"Greetings." The Knight tries to lift his visor but decides against it.
"Apologies for the disturbance," He gestures at the axe embedded on a stump and Vaughn, he takes a breath, "Have.. Have you seen the Princess?"
He shakes his head. This man needs to elaborate. One does not suddenly meet a royal.
"Red fiery hair! Fair skinned!" He takes another breath, looking quite sheepish, "Beautiful.."
Another shake of his head, "Nothing of the sort here. If it helps, you may look around."
If the knight was disappointed, it did not show. Helmet and all.
After a moment, he hears a long sigh, "No, but thank you for your time."
The knight walks away after surveying his humble home one last time.
Odd, he doubts that this princess would enjoy her time in the wilderness.
He goes back to the shed to count some more wood. Nothing like Grilled Gold Pickled Fowl Foot before starting his day.
Vaughn puts down his basket full of Rowa Fruit, honestly, he's lucky how abundant it is the Lands Between. It's the healthiest thing he knows he has eaten in a while.
The cellar he wants to build can wait another day. He's in no rush with the renovations of his cottage and small land. But there is always this gnawing sense of urgency of his that keeps him worried. He takes the basket inside, then walks out again to see if he left any of his tools outside again.
A strange fog descends on his vicinity, alarming him.
There's a shift in the air, subtle but easily discernable with enough practice. It does not have the same ferocity as it had greeted him in the past but an identical aura. Could it be?
"Your Highness." He says immediately, seeing a dark blue cloak peak behind a tree. Vaughn kneels.
"I hath thought that I concealed thineself well enough but it seemeth that thou has keen senses." A soft voice replies, softer than he remembers. He hears a rustle of cloth, the figure moves closer to him, "Rise."
What greeted him was not what he expected. Fiery red hair, fair skinned. Beautiful.
Sensing his eyes on her for too long, she flushes.
Vaughn motions wildly with his hands trying to convey whatever apology he can muster because apparently his mouth and mind lost all connectivity.
He moves instinctively closer to her, shielding her. A greatword is stuck on where he stood a moment ago. He inhales, a dog, no… Wolf.
"What's your business with our Lady?"