Three young woman gather in a corner of the manor. A petite pre-pubescent girl swings her feet as her fluffy tail swooshes from its perch hanging over the edge of a chair. The strawberry haired maid taps her foot impatiently against the floor as the sweet face attendant wrings her skirt in her fingers.

            “We can’t just sit here, while Lady Lena rots in prison!” Holly crossly said.

            Dolly sigh and tiredly replies, “Yes, but the general says, we are not to do anything foolish. We must be patient Holly, that is all we can do.”

            Holly crossly grumbles, “But it’s been weeks!”

            “Yes, but we may even have to wait years,” Dolly firmly reminded her.

            Holly and Dolly are glaring at each other as Delilah hastily says, “Enough you two, this won’t help Lady Lena. Instead, we should prepare ourselves to be of use to Lady Lena, once she is free of that dreadful place. I for one intend to be capable of at least fleeing from danger without hindering Lady Lena. Surely, the two of you can think of something.”

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            Dolly nods her head in agreement. “I’ve been studying under papa how to draw better runes and mama’s been teaching me how to summon great spirts of nature,” Dolly proudly said as she puffed out her small chest.

            Holly frowns as she ponders of what use she could be to Lady Lena. All her life, she had always just wanted to serve Lady Lena as her maid. But what could she possible learn that would aid Lady Lena?

            The two-young women glance at each other in worry. After some time, Dolly says, “What about learning to forge weapons? I don’t have much of a talent for it, but papa thinks that you may have a knack for it. He saw your repair made to the great clock in the hallway and says, you’ve got a tinker’s blood in you.”

            Holly bolts to her feet and smiles prettily at Dolly. Dolly gapes for a moment as she shuts her mouth with a loud snap. Holly excitedly exclaims, “What are you waiting for Dolly? Let’s go see your father, Gadrin!”

            With peace of mind, the trio rushes off to pester the poor sweating dwarf blacksmith. Gadrin sniffs as he feels a chill on his skin. He couldn’t possibly be getting a cold, this late in spring, could he?