While Hildibrands is rightfully berating me, I see Aelfwine discussing with a tall warrioress with a fierce look. I dust my cloak, straighten my mail shirt and walk over, remembering my manners. "Greetings, my lady. I am Thidrek, son of Thetmar the Amelung, King of Bern, and this is Hildibrands, my master-at-arms. It seems that Fate has thrown all of us together for a reason, but what it is, I still cannot fathom. Shall we leave this dreary cellar and go back upstairs to enjoy Widsith's hospitality? I will pay for our repast." I gesture towards the stairs, desperate for fresh air.