Installment 39 [https://squirrel.dogphilosophy.net/Installment039.png]

The servants' skills at cleaning impressed Al - the foyer looked much better than it had the night before. The blood-stained rug was gone, as was the smashed chair. The remaining chairs had been completely cleaned of dust and looked comfortable. Some sort of plaster had been used to cover the place where Gruntle had ripped one of the torch-sconces from the wall. Upon entering the room, Al noticed the banners had even been replaced. They were a dark forest green, with a white heraldic wolf's head in profile on them. Candles had been set in the chandelier and lit, making the whole room bright and cheerful.

"You see, here is an example. I wouldn't like to have to replace the chandelier, but it is 'one object'. It's quite heavy but I suspect the large, odd fellow you have with you might just be able to carry it. Fortunately for me, you would have to disassemble the fastenings that mount it to the ceiling, so it doesn't qualify. Why are you looking at me like that?"

Al looked from the baron to Gruntle, and back again.

"It's just...well, it's not inaccurate, your lordship, but large, odd fellow isn't a phrase I ever expected to hear someone use to describe a gnoll."

"Ah, is that what a gnoll looks like? I can see why they've been such a problem to the northeast, if they're all as formidable as he appears to be."

"Most people find him to be scary. Aren't you worried at all?"

"The potential for simple violence is a lot less worrisome than some of the things I have been threatened with at various times at court. Besides, you did assure me you were friendly."

"We could have been lying, though."

"Were you?"

"No, of course not!"

"Then there's no reason for me to be worried. Now then, I was just going out to inspect the grounds, which appear to have also been neglected in my long absence. I'll leave you to look around and choose your reward. I'll trust you to abide by the rules."

He gave a formal bow and left the keep with a jaunty step.

"Creepy bastard," muttered Wikwocket.

"Have you met him before?" asked Al of her, "I could tell you didn't like him."

"No," she answered, "so let's get this done and leave so I can go back to never meeting him."

"He seemed quite friendly and agreeable to me. Is this about him teasing marriage?"

"No. Well, also that, but if it was just that it'd just mean he has good taste. There's just something fake about him, and I don't like it."

"Well, he is a noble, they all live in their own weird society away from normal people. Being sort of off among regular people is kind of expected. Baron Wulfcynn actually seems more relatable than most, from what little interaction I've had with them before. At least he's...symmetrical. The nobility isn't exactly a diverse breeding population."

"Then all the inbreeding is on the inside for this one. You can all tell there's something wrong with him, can't you?" Wikwocket looked to the others.

"He just seems sort of aristocratic to me, not a bad person at all," Al said.

Bote considered. "He seems pleasant and trustworthy to me, though I cannot say exactly why."

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In disbelief, Wikwocket turned to Gruntle.

"Smells nice," he said. "Like clan ally. Like...friend?"

Wikwocket stared. "How do we even know he is who he says he is?" she finally protested.

"I suppose we really don't," Al admitted.

"Perhaps he would take an oath to confirm," suggested Bote, "It would probably be good to do as a legal matter anyway, so as to confirm our taking of something from the keep has been properly allowed."

Wikwocket snorted. "Whatever. Let's get this over with and get out of here. Preferably with something more valuable than baron whoever-he-is expects."

Al pushed open the door to the hallway and they began their inspection. Every sconce had a fresh torch burning for light.

The baron's servants were either very numerous or very efficient, as it appeared the entire place had been thoroughly cleaned. The broken pieces of armor no longer littered the floor of the hallway or chapel. In the chapel itself, the rotting benches had all been removed, and there was indication that someone had attempted some additional repair-work on the statue of Fortuna. In the servant's quarters, the bones of the slain caretaker's servant had been removed, and even the old bloodstains across the floor appeared to have been well-scrubbed and were hardly noticeable now. Giving that room more of an examination than they had the night before, Wikwocket found a locked coffer under the servant's bed, behind a chamberpot. She smiled greedily hearing the jingling of coins inside.

Then, she scowled. "Not valuable enough. He's not even going to notice if we take some poor servant's savings."

She shoved it back under the bed.

Across the hall, the bathroom now smelled faintly of soap rather than the decay of what had previously been in the tub. Wikwocket eyed the mirror.

"Mirrors are expensive, aren't they? And this one's pretty big. Serve him right if we robbed him of being able to admire himself."

"What would we do with a big, heavy, breakable mirror?" Al asked. "I get that you don't like him, but I think you're getting a little obsessed."

The kitchen was a clean room with empty cabinets, and even the cellar had been dusted. The beast's bones were nowhere to be found. Returning upstairs, they found that the doors to the feast-hall now had painted wooden wolf's-head-in-profile placards nailed to them, matching the image on the banners they'd seen earlier. The feast-hall had also been cleaned and was lit and warmed by the burning logs in the fireplace. The ripped paintings were gone, but there was now a portrait of Baron Hearne Wulfcynn hanging to the right of the fireplace.

In the room above, the table and chairs had been set upright again, and the game-pieces were neatly arranged on the table. The large bedroom where they'd found the beast was free of feathers. Al assumed they'd been stuffed back into the mattress, since it appeared to have been sewn back up and the blankets spread neatly across it. The clothes in the wardrobe were still there, but had been pushed to the side, as though to make room for new clothing.

The alchemical lab had been dusted and soot scrubbed from the walls, though the stone was still chipped in several places. The bottles and apparatus on the table gleamed, as did the two now-inert magical torches which had been set there, and the collection of alchemical supplies in the pantry had been straightened out. Finally, they reached the study. The armchair that had broken under Gruntle's weight had been removed, as had the exotic rug that had been damaged when it had attacked Al. Some effort had been made to remove the ink stains on the writing table and floor, and someone had straightened the books in the bookcases.

Al turned to his companions.

"I'm amazed at how clean this place has been made in just a few hours. It doesn't seem like there's anything else to find here, and if there was it's been cleaned up. At least we get to take something with us. Did anybody see anything they particularly think we should choose?"

"Nah," said Gruntle.

"I would expect that the most valuable knowledge would be found in this room," Bote opined.

"I was kind of hoping someone besides me would say that. If we choose one of the magical texts here, it's probably the most likely place to learn anything more," said Al, "but it's probably me that would get the most use out of it."

Wikwocket gave the bookcase with the magical books a shrewd glare.

"Books are expensive, aren't they? Especially books of magic, right?"

"Well, yes. They're certainly valuable. I mean, look, down here on the bottom shelf, there's Philosophical Principles of Wizardry for the Novice, even this would probably cost twenty pieces of gold or more."

"Wait!" Wikwocket shouted as he reached for it. Al pulled his hand back and looked at her.

"That bastard!" she muttered. "That scheming bastard!"

"What?"

"What is that?" Wikwocket asked, pointing to the bookcase.

"It's...a bookcase full of books?"

"And if you were going to disassemble that bookcase full of books, what would you do?"

"Well, I'd start by taking the books out...oh. This is some kind of silly game, isn't it."

"It might not be, but it gives me an idea. Gruntle, you're very strong, right?"...