Unfortunately for Tank, the one-eyed rabbit had some bad news in store.

"The hotels around here be full," He said matter-of-factly before taking a quick swig of his rum, then looked at Tank who seemed to be getting a cold.

"Methinks it'd be best just to hoof it to the castle. Hopefully the baron be as friendly as the rumors say."

He grinned at the group, "If it be spirits ya need, I got plenty ta go 'round." He gestured to the bottle in his hand, "It'll keep ya warm, too."

"I don't know what you mean by colorful, but no I ain't a local." He answered, just before Tank introduced the griffin to his Power Communicator. Speaking of colorful individuals, they seemed to have one in their own group.


"Now, if everyone be feelin' up to it, methinks we should double-time it." He said as he took another swig of his ale and started to walk toward the castle.

***

The group would find no further difficulty in arriving at the castle other than tolerating Sir Corin's tirelessly gallivanting company.

It cast a looming shadow, but it wasn't as dark as it may have seemed from far away, when it was previously contrasted against the sunset. The castle was of very light stone, and blended well with the fair snow. Red-capped towers came to extremely steep, sharp points (surely to discourage the accumulation of slush), and warm lights glowed from within. The front gate, standing open, was similarly lit with gas lamps hanging from the walls and ceiling within. A short walk through the entrance brought them to the cobblestone courtyard walk, which was lined with yet more lamps. The landscaping looked like it might have been pleasant in fairer weather, but as it was presently, it was indiscernible beneath a thin layer of snow. Only the walkways remained clear.

The courtyard was slightly snowed over. It seemed there were no guards to be spoken of—at least it seemed sane enough within, compared to what they had experienced outside thus far. A couple small automobiles, piled with snow, sat under tarps not terribly far from the castle's front door. Cars! Cars were a nice, normal thing, right?

Assuming the continued onward, they would find themselves staring down big, leaf-shaped knockers hanging from each of the doors. There appeared to be other ways into the castle—side doors around other sections of the courtyard, and so on—but this was the place the residents would probably want to receive guests... if they were going to receive any at all, anyway.

As they passed through the gates, Ivan glanced back to make sure no one was falling behind. He took note of the clear walkways. It was a good sign..that means that who ever lives here takes care, or has hired help to take care of his outdoor maintenance.

Upon reaching the front door, he glanced back at the fellow outsiders to make sure no one had fallen behind. Then he gave the knocker some work.

"See, wasn't that bad of a walk. Didn't get no frostbite'r nothin'!" He said with a big toothy grin. He tilted back the last of his booze, which he apparently wasn't keeping track of, because when no more cold ale sloshed down his throat, he blinked, and then proceeded to stare down the neck of the bottle in dismay.

"Aw, hell..."

After a short wait, the immense, wooden door clicked, and swished, and swung open with gliding smoothness and the heaviness of displaced air, its sheer thickness and close-measured closure seeming to very nearly create a suction at first. It was soon followed by a noisy, drafty whoosh, however, and thereafter, the group basked in the mercifully warm air from within.

Firelight flickered and the smoky scent of burning wood wafted out from behind their greeter. An average sized fellow, tawny-headed, with a slightly rodent-like look about him, the steward wore a rich, wine-red jacket, neatly buttoned in front, with a tall, creamy white shirt collar standing much higher, hugging up around his cheeks, all capped off with a silken, seafoam-colored tie. He was very well dressed, but in his mannerisms, he looked less snooty, and more... taken aback by their presence, as he clutched the sides of the door and leered with a series of rapid blinks and a cautious look on his face.

"... M-may I help you?" he eventually stammered after several seconds, as if realizing belatedly that his silence was rude.