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“I will not.” Lucian said firmly as he rose to his feet, “I cannot stand aside as the peasantry of Bretonnia are made fools of.”
“My Lord,” The Elder looked to be something between bewildered and frightened at the motion that was being given, “I cannot have you losing blood over our issues. You are but a traveling warrior.”
“That will not stop me.” Lucian said with certainty.
“What of our safety? None of us can leave the land without fear of retribution or being cut down by the Yeoman of the Lord.” He grew a slim smile as he remembered a detail, “Even our homes, boarded up as they seem, was to hopefully make ourselves too troublesome for the Baron’s men to kill us.”
“I came from the East, the way was clear from my travels.” Lucian declared firmly as he pointed in the direction, “If you are able run until you reach the lands of Count Remon. He shall sally forth with support against the rogue Baron.”
“There-?” The old man hosted a good amount of confusion upon his face as he heard those words, “My Lord, I…”
“Speak your mind.” Lucian said as he felt a matter had come up, “I am not as full as folly as my fellow. If anything I would wish to hear his words on why he thought a bad meal was enough to massacre an entire people.”
“I-is there anyway for us to repay you?” The peasant finally said, “If this is an agreement between us, then I ask that we give you something in return.”
Reaching into his pocket Lucian brought out a crunched up packet, the letter stamped with the rubber seal of a raven upon it. The Knight placed it within the hands of the elder with a smile crossing his face, “Take this to the village that was once Verac. In that place is a group of Knight Errants. You shall give this to the one named Gillot.”
Lucian saw it there, a moment of recognition as he accepted the piece of mail within his hands, “You… you are the Durand!”
“I am, now get everyone up and moving before daylight breaks and Baron Budapest realizes that you have all fled in the night.”
