<div class="floatright">(https://fotopoisk.com.ua/media/CACHE/images/photos/14/b0036e7176fb47a1bb5a06a492ccca69/fac3eb15f33cf2bae201602241285cad.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_u"><strong>The Right Honorable Margrave, Zweites Rambart</strong></span><br/><br/>"What know I of the undead?" Zweites tittered at the question, her shoulders visibly shaking with mirth at Abigail as she looked down at the strange young girl, "A thimbleful! But that may be the thimble of a pixie or a giant, so who is to say where certainty and ignorance meet and share a night in bed? I know the important details up to and including that which is more relevant than any other! I know that I am more savvy by far than any of the undead, for I still draw breath and they feed worms!" From her vantage point beneath the tall noble, the strange girl could see further beneath Zweites' veil than most. Her lips were twisted in a merry but predatory smile.<br/><br/>That tall bitch was mocking her!<br/><br/>The noble had already moved on however, assuming that Abigail would be sated with her answer and her graciousness in acknowledging the wild child. She stood silent for a moment, her head turning towards the dwarf as he announced himself. Zweites Rambart was a friendly sort, particularly with those who sought answers at the bottom of a glass. She was courteous enough not to laugh as he spat an insult at Abigail, noting that she would have to offer an apology later in the evening. While she had not meant to snub the dwarf, she had been in the midst of pleading her own case to the goodfolk of Tanholk.<br/><br/>Her indignation at their treatment would have burn more brightly in her younger days. Years on the road had softened her arrogance. She met too many great men hiding amongst the commoners to readily dismiss anyone. Besides which, she was road weary and she would hold her tongue if it meant planting her ass in a soft chair. Habitually, she checked the clasps on her coat, running her fingers over them in order. She bristled at Yizle's touch in the small of her back, only relaxing as Zweites realized she wasn't going to touch her rifle. The noblewoman looked to Kryztofs, offering him a slight nod as if to reassure him. It was laughable, given that out of the two of them, she was the more prone to "panic".<br/><br/>As she allowed herself to be lead, she again looked to Abigail, as the girl accosted a pair of locals. That one looked to be trouble. Though Peter had insisted they all leave in the morning, Zweites was less and less keen to be on the same road as the cantankerous little witch. They had a Krastov saying for children like her that went something akin to, "Did your town not have a well deep enough to drown her in?"<br/>