Malcyn didn't get an answer from the maid, but a servant that was passing by gave him a sad look before answering.  "That's be his grandna I reckin', though she ain't leave her bed in years."  She answered with a thick accent.  "Capt'n is bossy.  Housekeeper rulls with an ir'n fist."  She gave a shrug, and eyeballed him as if she expected some reward for the rather paltry and useless information, then suddenly gave a squeak and scurried off.  A moment later Malcyn realized why, as the Captain, flanked by two guards, marched up.<br/><br/>"Where is the maid?"  He demanded, glaring at Malcyn was one guard pushed past to look into Malcyn's room.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>The stool had been damaged by powerful blows, not the sort that would be used in training.  It rested on a number of logs that had been set up in readiness to warm the night, but that had never been lit.  There was no way to tell if the vomit was from the deceased visually, not without having looked at the corpse at close range.<br/><br/>There was definitely enough of a blood pool for a Montaigne sorcerer to have opened a portal, either that or someone had bled nearly dry on the floor without splattering the walls.