Some time had passed from Sylgmar's leave before Ildrand took his leave from the office as well. He locked the door and headed down the stairs.
He went home, got undressed, and worn his thickly padded arming trousers and shirt. Over these, he only worn his chainmail hauberk, supposing that he wouldn't need any armour. As often, his only weapon was the ballock-knife.
He was heading to Combe, and two of his boys met him right outside Bree. Both bald, tall and bulky, yet not as tall and bulky as Ildrand. They only worn a chain hauberk, too, but they had maces by their sides, as well as one dagger each.
"You're late." said one of them.
"I know."
As they arrived at the Combe gate, Ildrand saluted the guards. They weren't much smaller than Ildrand's bald boys. They were about the same size. One was brown of hair, the other black.
"Good day, watchers."
"Good day, Berrywine. You don't come here often, eh? What are you doing?" asked black-hair.
"I'm recieving some payment. They are way too late, I'm taking the house."
"Bloody loan-shark..." said the other, as the first spat on the ground.
"This is totally unfair. They didn't complain when they took the money. And now that I have to take it back, I'm a bloody loan-shark."
"Ay, ay... You've got a point." said brown-hair, and then black-hair:
"Indeed. Good luck, Berrywine. "
"Ay. I hope I don't need it. Good day."
"Good day." they answered, as a choir.
As they arrived at the lumber camp, it took some moments for Ildrand to figure out which was the house. He knocked at the door.
"Who's there?" asked a female voice shortly after.
"Berrywine. I'm recieving the payment."
"Berrywine?"
He sighed. "Greenhand."
"Oh, no, no, no! It's my son who owes you money, not me! You won't have any! Go away!"
He sighed again. "Your son agreed to give us the house, were he not able to return our coin. We gave you the chance to pay, and keep your home."
"I said you won't have anything!"
"Open the door, give us the keys and leave, Mrs."
"I won't open anything!"
"I'm counting to three. If at three you haven't opened the door, we will bust the lock. One..."
The noise of a key opening the lock stopped Ildrand from continuing. A rather old and short woman, grey - almost white, to be honest - pulled the door open She was wearing a dress, one that had certainly seen better days. She looked up at the three, her green eyes one inch away from pouring tears. The three men walked inside
"Pl-please... Don't take my house..."
"It's ours now."
"Y-you cant! Wh-where will I live?"
"That's your problem, Mrs."
She fell on her knees, hugging Ildrand's left leg, her eyes pouring already.
"Please, good sir! You can't!" she cried.
"Give me the keys."
"No, please, no! Go away!"
"Give me the keys."
"I can do everything! I can wa-"
Ildrand was tired of this play. He unwillingly took the knife out of its sheath and pointed it at the woman. "GIVE ME THE KEYS!"
She let go of his leg, sitting back on her rump. Fear even made her eyes stop pouring tears. She extended her right hand, which was now holding a key. Berrywine took it.
"Get out."
"Plea-"
"GET OUT!"
She got on her feet and walked out of her home. Ildrand and the bald men followed shortly after. He locked the door and began to walk the way back to Bree.
