Arcaea/Dining Hall/The Deeds of Diodorus

A haggard looking nobleman practically fell off the boat as it arrived in Remton. Looking on edge, as if he had not slept for days, he reeled forwards and collapsed. A cursory check through his belongings by nearby bureaucrats and officials revealed a family crest of familiar pattern. Diodorus was carried off to the nearest house of healing, and word of his arrival sent to Darius.

After being admitted to the infirmary, and about an hour's rest, Diodorus awoke, suddenly.

"Where am I?" he asked the healer, sharply. "What realm?"

"Why, this is Arcaea of the Far East, m'lord," the healer said, watching him. "You arrived in a terrible state. We've alerted your kinsman here, Darius."

Diodorus' eyes widened with something like fright.

"Darius? But..." he stammered.

"There is no need to worry, my lord. I am sure he will be here soon enough, but he is busy, as all lords of the realm are in this time of war. For now, you must rest."

Diodorus sank back on his bed, but silently he plotted. He feigned some sleep, waiting half an hour until he was sure the healer was elsewhere, and then grabbed his dagger. He observed the window. Surely it would lead out, and he could get away from here... some chaos would be the best thing to put between him and Darius. War? Well, he knew how to best use that...

He grinned mirthlessly, jumped out of bed, and silently slipped out the window.

Sir Diodorus Exiled (Noble)