thefeywood | why don't you figure my heart out?

As with many of Aymeric's ventures, Estinien thinks he is doing the best that can be done within his current position. His friend is unduly harsh with himself, he thinks, but at the same time he will not deny him his ambition.

"'Impromptu' may be the best sort, given who we may be dealing with," Estinien says. He's naturally cynical about this kind of thing, particularly any skullduggery that happens beneath the High Houses. "Let us not draw too much attention to our efforts - at least until we've spoken to the townsfolk."

He comes over to Aymeric's desk, closing the distance between them.

"They already put their trust in your soldiers once... with any luck, they will be willing to do so again."

Aymeric lifts his gaze to the other man, keeping it on him even has he draws closer. As dark as his recent findings have been, he finds himself forming the hints of a smile at Estinien's words. He nods, unlacing his fingers as he allows his hands to simply lay on his lap.

"Indeed." A thoughtful pause as his eyes shift to the report in front of him. "...Though I doubt much for the Fury's direct involvement in such matters, I do feel blessed to some degree to have a small, but stalwart and moral group of knights under my watch. For all that the Temple Knights have yet to do for all echelons of Ishgard, they remind me why we do what we can."

Estinien hums in agreement, that sentiment definitely one that had struck him with regards to Theodlac when they'd first met. Reluctant as he is to heap more praise on the boy without having seen more of him, it was a more positive first impression than he may have otherwise anticipated.

"They know not what they meddle with by giving you a squadron of like-minded soldiers," he says, a bit of a smirk coming to his lips. Whether or not the Fury has deigned them with her attention, it seems Aymeric may have been given a choice hand after all.

"Is there aught I might do in preparation, or will my presence suffice?"

He smiles full on at that and barely restrains a chuckle. "Truly a formidable force of five."

Which pales in comparison to even the more modestly size-squadrons, but he feels he can safely say that his were well-suited. It had been a source of anxiety for a while, as much as he relished in the challenge presented to him given what any knight under his watch may believe, but it has all turned out rather well.

"Your presence is more than enough, my friend. I daresay that it would put a bit of hope in any throughout Coerthas to see a Dragoon in full armor."

Sure enough, when it day comes, Estinien does arrive decked out in full armor. The helmet remains on after leaving the Congregation, given how large of a group it is - in general, it projects his image as more looming and aloof than with it off, like a dark silhouette of faceless death that lingers around their chocobo cart as the journey begins.

The trip seems mostly uneventful in its initial phases, and occasionally Estinien will leap away from the party completely to examine the landscape from a higher viewpoint, staring into the distance as if sensing something the others don't. He returns just as mysteriously, settling down somewhere close to Aymeric or - somewhat absurdly - perching on the railing of the wagon like a bird, balancing effortlessly.

He won't talk much, even to Aymeric, remaining quiet and vigilant unless spoken to. Though not exactly friendly, it certainly makes an impression.

The courier had been informed, but was still surprised to be personally accompanied by so many knights to what should otherwise be a routine trip. Typically an armed escort need only be present if the goods themselves were of some perceived value by the Holy See (and those typically did not go to small villages in the highlands) or if there had been a series of recent attacks in the region. Neither are the case this time, but Aymeric is able to assuage their worries rather quickly, ensuring the courier that this is a show of good faith to all of Ishgard, to those within and without her walls. It turns out the courier themselves had been from a settlement not unlike Hemlock and consequently finds the gesture pleasing. How fortuitous.

Of course, having a dragoon intermittently perching himself on the carriage is surprising, even when the landing is surprisingly soft. Theodlac is absolutely beyond himself at seeing Estinien in full armor, appearing and disappearing with grace that he can only hope to achieve one day. Finding Estinien perched out on peaks or landings along the way has become something of a game to him one that Ser Coudenne, the Elezen archer of the squadron, readily takes part in for the novelty of it.

Saidine rides her chocobo alongside Aymeric's at the front, while Theodlac, Coudenne, and Brummeux--another gladiator trained Elezen--take up the rear. Though Aymeric only trades a few glances behind him along the march, he does smile to himself every time he sees Estinien riding the carriage, or spots him somewhere off in the distance to the side. The gentle swoop as he ascends into the heavens themselves is a sound he has grown accustomed to, feels strangely attuned and is able to track Estinien's movements better than he ought to.

Yes, he is amused the whole time, despite the seriousness of the quest they are taking.

He trades light conversation with Saidine and a little with the courier as they cross the Black Iron Bridge, but all talk dies down as they see the small gates to Hemlock perched between large stones. There is a man standing vigil outside--a townsman, not a knight of any house--who spots the caravan and immediately opens the gates before running inside, likely to inform the rest of the town that aid has finally arrived.

Much needed aid. Delayed overlong.

He turns to Saidine and nods. They split off, allowing the courier to walk through the gates first as all the knights trail behind. Sure enough, it seems like the entire village has shown up to receive the courier and there are a few shouts of joy and one or two of anger along the lines of "where the bloody hells have you been?"

Aymeric dismounts by the gates and all the other knights follow suit, leaving their armored chocobos as out of the way as possible. The arrival of several knights--Temple and Dragoon--draws as many stares as the carriage itself does. Aymeric turns to his squadron, all of whom stand at attention on cue.

"We will help with the unloading and dispersement here in the town square. If any at all require further assistance in carrying supplies back to their homes, we will offer that as well. Where possible, ask how many other shipments have been missed."

All four knights salute.

"We are a reflection of what has failed them and may incur their ire. Where needed, offer sincerest apologies on behalf of the Holy See for the delay. Know that the complaints we may receive are our responsibility to hear out, no matter how they are directed. As Temple Knights, it is our duty to provide for them in both sword and shield and succor. Breeding good will only comes with genuine action. Understood?"

"Yes, ser."

Aymeric nods. "Good. Let us begin."

As the four knights move to the carriage to help unload, Aymeric takes a moment to stand next to Estinien.

"And we begin our investigation as well."

Though his thoughts are mostly with the task at hand, Estinien can't help but also give attention to his duties as a dragoon. It's instinct at that point - Dravanian activity may be low in this area at the moment, but the ever-looming potential of it is something that buzzes in the back of Estinien's head no matter the context. He's lost too much among hills just like these to ever feel at ease.

And so, his contribution towards this trip inevitably become a showing of support and also keeping a vigilant watch for dragons and other threats. He posts himself around the area as a constant vigil as the little caravan moves, in prime position to spot Hemlock long before those on the ground would. It's only once Aymeric's team arrives at its gates that he returns to the group proper, though he lingers towards the back, his body language clearly suggesting that he is here to observe.

He can't help but crack a small smile at Aymeric's speech, though, and the other knight's eager reception of it. It's not an easy task they've been assigned, to care for the needs of wronged civilians. If only all Temple Knights were possessed of the same virtues.

He nods his head as Aymeric approaches, his arms crossed as he surveys the town ahead.

"I would see if any other knight do linger in the area," he says. "I think it notable whether others were present to ignore the villager's pleas."

Aymeric gives a quiet hum in agreement, though his gaze stays out on his squadron as they greet the villagers with varying degrees of congeniality. Theodlac, unsurprisingly, is the most eager.

"The lumber here is a valuable resource to Ishgard, so there ought to be one present semi-regularly." Though because Hemlock proper is under House Durendaire's watch and care, Aymeric is not privy to watch rotation. They have to rely on their own eyes, ears, and the words of the locals.

He shifts his eyes to Estinien proper and folds his arms. "Was aught amiss on the journey over?"

Estinien's expression is harder to read with his visor concealing his face, his lips pressed into the same stern line. After a moment, he shakes his head.

"Nay. Only native beasts in the expected places, none too close to populated areas." He falls silent for a few more moments, and then adds: "It is not the task at hand, but still, I worry..."

He seems to stare off into the hills, at something beyond their current struggles.

"The longer it stretches, the more it feels that a storm must follow this silence. That they leave us time enough to sew discord amongst ourselves, wrought by idle hands."

Aymeric finds his gaze following Estinien's, as if he can but see through his friend's eyes. He has but a brief preview of what the world looks like to a dragoon thanks to the various perches that Estinien has shared with him in Ishgard, but to be ever vigilant to the movements of the horde in ways that Aymeric will never be is a heavy burden.

He allows a silence to fall between them for several beats before speaking quietly.

"The Astrologians have said naught of late..." A passing observation, as the See relies so heavily on their predictions. "But it has been quite a while, hasn't it?"

Even to Estinien, sometimes it is hard to know how much of this anxiety is paranoia, and how much of it is prenatural sense. Given his own lack of knowledge of Astrology and it's resulting immateriality, he could never place full trust in fortune telling. In the heat of battle, the only compass he has is his own gut, and so similar ways of thinking follow him into his daily affairs.

He feels suspicious of many things, as of late. Even before Aymeric came this far into his research, Estinien had been suspicious of foul play among the elites. Some part of himself wonders - are these threats real, or is he allowing himself to become stir crazy in this time of rest?

"They are tireless things," he says, more softly. "They would not relent without reason." At least, that's the thought that keeps creeping into his mind, haunting him in quiet moments.

He must remain vigilant.

Aymeric cannot begin to say he understands the nature of dragons--ancient creatures of relentless rage, it seems. To see this war end will take a feat greater than any Ishgard has yet undertaken and he imagines the slaying of Nidhogg will be but a part of it.

But this day...this day is for Hemlock. The few peoples here they can yet help.

"Then in the event they awake on this village, full glad am I to have such an esteemed member of the Knights Dragoon at my side."

It's said with something of a cheeky smile, but as with all the praise he bestows upon his friend, rooted in genuine esteem.

"Come, let us join the rounds and keep a watchful eye to the skies."

Estinien looks at him, falling silent for another few moments. Eventually, though, he nods his head - without any further fretting, he will follow Aymeric into the town.

He gives the impression of feeling out of place being there, however, reluctant to speak to any of the villagers and instead primarily watching as things unfold. After a short time, he spots where Theodlac is speaking to some of the people he's been helping. Curious, he moves towards the group, wondering what he might hear about the situation.

That is, if him being an armored dragoon isn't enough to draw everyone off-topic. It's at least part of why he's struggling to join in on anything going on - the looks he gets for simply being there at all are overwhelming. Dragoons are well respected, but they are also a sign of trouble.

Theodlac is a chatty sort of fellow once given the opportunity and he is definitely one that the townsfolk seem to be opening up to the most. The does not have the haughty air of knights they have come to expect and his eager and honest nature is apparent to all upon first meeting him.

The fact that it is the look of the villagers he's speaking with that draws his attention before the dragoon now looming nearby is almost embarrassing. Almost. But he does jump a little and suddenly feels the need to put on.

"--Ser Estinien!" He salutes out of habit with all the energy of an eager puppy.

The townsfolk, noticeably, look a little concerned.

"Oh! No, not to worry. Ser Estinien is here as...part of the escort! Just in case, you know. Never can be too careful."

Nailed it.

What Ser Theodlac said is entirely true, yet he didn't phrase it in the most convincing of manners. Thankfully, Estinien's expression is as mysterious as ever, allowing him to simply nod his head.

"Ser Theodlac has the right of it," he says evenly. "The undue delay on your allotment did not go unnoticed, and so I took up Ser Aymeric on his offer to come along, to ensure that nothing be allowed to go awry a second time."

He's about to ask a follow-up question, but part of him wants to know what Theodlac has found out on his own. He looks towards the lancer, as if beckoning him to continue.

That does seem to put the villagers more at ease, although a middle-aged woman in particular cast a curious glance up towards the sky. (As if she could spot the dragon before the dragoon.)

"Thank the Fury he ain't been needed, then," a young man says as he adjusts a sack on his shoulder.

"Y-Yes! All precautions." As much as Theodlac would like to see a dragoon in action for real...even he isn't so naive to wish for it at the expense of the commonfolk.

"Does that mean you'll be attendin' all these deliveries?" An elderly woman asks in a creaky voice.

"I--I would ask the Captain, if time permits. We wouldn't want this to happen again."

"Well, it ain't the first or the second, Ser."

Theodlac blinks, turning to the man with the sack, who now wears a stern expression.

"I--pardon?"

"Three months back, innit? We missed a shipment then there, didn't we?"

The group all nods in unison.

Estinien is certain Theodlac will have the opportunity to see a dragoon work soon enough - though he expects the memory will be less pleasant than the young man expects. More importantly, this new information sticks out as a major concern.

Not the first time, or second. Yet, it's persisted until now...

"Had you the opportunity to report this to a member of the guard, or another Isghardian representative?" Estinien asks, without missing a beat. Yet, there is a certain persistence to his tone now, as if he has locked onto a target and this is the only thing preventing him from acting on it. "If so, I would have their names."

He's not saying as much, but there does seem to be an implication of corrective action, there. Not the usual quarry a dragoon is sent to intimidate, but he could certainly be effective at it.

Multiple times, but spread months apart. That sounds like an intentional pattern.

The young man sends a slightly unsettled look at Estinien--talking to the knights is one thing, but speaking to a dragoon is a rare occurrence indeed.

"...The first time, aye."

The elderly woman nods her head.

"Strange, it seemed. One of those young sods from Durendaire said it must've just been delayed, he did."

"'Cept we didn't see nothing for the entire month!"

Theodlac's expression drops, brows pressing together in concern.

"Erm...was this a regular Knight for Hemlock?"

The sack man shrugs.

"Hard 't tell. We only e'er see them when they're expecting lumber."

Estinien's inner reaction is much stronger than what he shows on the surface. Durendaire. Like he was increasingly beginning to suspect, either they were ignoring the plight of their charges, or they were orchestrating it. For him, it ties in easily with Ser Draneux odd demands. Something strange is going on with those people, and he does not intend to let it lie.

On the outside, he only says: "Hmm."

It sounds like even the knight that would typically be on watch only appears opportunistically. Estinien would have some choice words for that entire house, but it would be bold for even him to declare as much in public like this. Not least when they still have information to gather. So instead, he nods his head.

"My thanks. Then it seems we must speak with House Durendaire."

All of the villagers exchange glances with one another. Maybe from Theodlac such a suggestion would seem ridiculous at it's best, but a dragoon is someone who holds weight in Ishgardian society. Though they often dwindle in numbers especially in times of high Dravanian activity, their reputation is held in regard--especially amongst those living in the Highlands.

Having a dragoon present could mean life or death.

"...Really?" The sack man asks.

And promptly gets his foot stopped on by the elderly woman.

"A Dragoon's word is solid, child!"

Theodlac laughs a little uncomfortably.

"Y-Yes, we will look into this! And you will not go without. On that you have my word as well. I'm sure the Captain would give us leave to stop by on our next patrol."

Estinien is not usually one to accept direct praise, but this manner of genuine trust is not something he takes lightly, and also something that can't help but be a little satisfying. Mostly because he intends to follow throw on his promises.

He inclines his head to the elderly woman respectfully, bending into a small bow. He won't waste his words on any further assurances, though - he knows they matter little in comparison to actual action.

"I will confer with Ser Aymeric," he says, and turns to find his friend in the crowd. But not before his offers Ser Theodlac his own little nod. As far as he's concerned, this is as solid of a lead as he needs.

Theodlac is just as excited to get acknowledgment from Estinien as he is from his own Captain--mayhaps more so. He salutes readily, back completely straight as he tries to look as professional as possible. The elderly woman turns her attention to Theodlac in asking for him to carry her supplies back to her cottage towards the edge of the village.

Aymeric, meanwhile, has been assisting with some of the manual labor himself, not one to stand idly by as his knights do all the heavy lifting. Yet he has taken a pause discussing with the village's head of sorts, a middle-aged Elezen man with dark hair and tired eyes.

When Estinien approaches, Aymeric's attention immediately shifts to him.

"Excellent timing, Ser Estinien. This is Afrort Feadins, the resident head of Hemlock. We were just discussing Archaeornis activity in the Highlands, among other matters."

The other matters are decidedly the ones they came searching for. He has no doubt Estinien will pick up on that.

"Aye. One out on its own is nothing 't worry, but when the horde moves in they amass in greater numbers. We haven't seen much in the ways of stragglers of late...Suspicious, if you ask me."

Estinien nods to Aymeric as he arrives. He is very much inclined to worry about any unusual activity - kindred spirits with this world-weary man, apparently. He looks to Afrort, giving that information as much attention as he would something more pertinent to their current investigation.

"Do you suspect the Dravanians are causing them to congregate elsewhere?" he asks. "I am sure you are aware of their susceptibility to the dragons influence."

Estinien has slain plenty of them himself, on the way to mightier foes. Still, they could cause substantial trouble for any village, even without their master's presence.

Afrort nods, expression turning more grim.

"Aye. That be the reason I'd been keepin' watch on them sorts around here. When they get real scarce, it usually isn't for long."

He also gives a nod to the supply cart, now mostly empty due to the combined efforts of the villagers and the knights.

"All the more reason we can't miss another one."

To that, Aymeric nods in agreement. When the threat of dragon activity is nigh, everyone best be as prepared as possible.

"We have an eye on this route now. I can assure you that we will not allow another supply to fall by the wayside."

Afrort, understandably, isn't exactly convinced.

"...Don't be taking this the wrong way, Ser Knight, as this is a nice gesture n' all, but pretty words are for Ishgard. Out here a man either does or doesn't get things done."

To that, Aymeric smiles and gives a deep bow of his head.

"Take us not by our words then, but by our actions. My squadron and I will see to it personally."

Afrort blinks, suspicious, but...perhaps hopeful as he glances between Aymeric and Estinien.

"...That'd be an ice change."

Estinien had already been concerned about a Dravanian assault building on the horizon, and this only seems to strengthen his interpretation of things. That's something he will be attending to when it happens, no matter the circumstances, and he'd rather come into it prepared.

As it is, he will nod his head, lending support to Aymeric's claim. He does believe that the two of them will do as they've promised. It's just a matter of how much red tape they are tangled in before then.

"On that note," Estinien says, looking to Aymeric. "I now have an idea of who needs to be spoken to, regarding these delays."

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