Wulf was not sure how well he was acquitting himself in the eyes of this quiet, thoughtful lord, but at least the girl seemed to have been a good choice.  There would have to be made some more permanent provision in that line, since these peasant girls rarely remained maidens long,  but the squire had had an idea about that; there was a thriving slave market in the town, and if the master of the slave pens proved amenable, a wealthy gentleman like Albrecht might have a private inspection of the stock by night to choose some suitable kine.    He was glad he had not presumed to make his own arrangements, there, though - he had a feeling Ritter Albrecht might consider that impertinent.<br/><br/>He<em>had</em>planned the tour, however, making sure that he began with the outer buildings and fortifications so they could be inspected before daybreak.  His master was not greatly communicative, but Wulf could tell he was taking note of everything he saw; the bathhouse, the stables, the brewery and butchery, the kitchen (separate from the main house to avoid fires),  the smithy and carpenter’s workshop.  These manors were a little village in themselves, enclosed within a massive and carefully maintained fence of logs.  It was not the stronghold that a western castle formed, but it was good enough to hold off most of the threats they faced here, including shapeshifters.  The wolfkind might be able to scale the walls but they would do it under a hail of  fire arrows.  The fence was thick and damp enough not to catch light easily, unlike the fur of the clawed ones.   A killing zone around the estate maintained by serfs not only provided space for growing crops,  but ample warning of any approach.<br/><br/>Finally Wulf took his master back to the main house.  He hurried through the dining hall (little interest there for undead) and guest bedchamber, aware of how late it was getting.  But he did pause to explain the low arches they must bend nearly double to pass through into the lord‘s private quarters forced visitors into an attitude of respect as well as ensuring that no enemy could rush in upon the master of the house without being placed in a very vulnerable position.  He contented himself again with a brief mention of the upper chamber, the single room with windows on all sides where the ladies of the house did their sewing and weaving, and a cursory glance at the master bedchamber.  At last he led the way down to the storage area, showing how the house was actually built on a platform and the rooms above were none of them at ground level.  Past the stored barrels of beer and mead,  the kegs of honey and boxes of candles to the hidden arch, showing off the stack of kegs poised so the pulling out of a wedge would seal up the passage behind you.  Then into the deeper cellar, the one carved from natural rock, showing off the cells to hold captives (or food),  the tunnel that led out to the riverside and the boathouse with the little oared skiff ready for flight, demonstrating how it was sealed until one removed the wedge holding the stone block in place.  And at last to the large chamber with the deep alcove lined with furs (an undead may not feel the cold or hardness of stone, but Wulf would have felt disrespectful not fitting it out as he would for any lord).  ’I hope I have provided appropriately, my lord.  Sadly, the workmen I hired from Novgorod to construct this lower level met with a tragic accident on their way home.  If it pleases, I believe the day is nearly upon us - if you have any instructions I will carry them out while you rest, and then tomorrow evening I can escort you to meet our allies in town.’<br/>