1401 CE

Duccio slowly makes his way up the steps of the Abbey chuckling a little at the name with the events of last year once at the top he stops to habitually rub his bad leg before noticing the Crucifix still around his neck and storing hit beneath his robes. "Time seems to be flowing faster and faster recently." Duccio mutters before straightening up and make his way inside at a sedate pace.

Upon reaching the hall and seeing the Keeper Duccio smiles brightly, "My good fellow Torston Leonarduccio has arrived, and when you find a spare moment there is a small matter I wish to discuss with you in private."

The door swings open and Isaac enters through it. Another year into his new life, another year older, another year....wiser? His familiar friendly smile widens when he sees his friends have already started arriving.
" Duccio! How lovely to see you my friend! How are things with you and at the Oude Kirk my dear Deacon! And Torston! Always a pleasure!I hope the nights are finding you well!"

Godfrey sitting at a table with his legs crossed, and hands ; fingers intertwined and resting on his lap watching the people come in. He smiles warmly.

Duccio smiles at Issac and nods his head in acknowledgment, "Things are going well within my church at the very least although we cannot wait until the new church finishes construction to help ease the work load and make sure all those who wish can attend Mass. I do hope things are well with you as well, not getting yourself into too much trouble I pray?"

Duccio turns his attention back to the keeper his face getting a more serious light, "These thing do involve some Clan business so it might be best left for another place where the walls have fewer, or at the very least controlled, ears in the wall. I will say it does involve an individual who, I believe, thinks they are being far more subtle then they are."

At the sudden outburst from Gregor Duccio turns to look at the monstrous man, "It seems you have some deeply troubling matters dear Warden, if you require any assistance please let me know I might be able to be of some use."

"I have no skil at healing but I will go to help however I can."
Isaac runs out the door in an unseemly amount of haste following Henry

Godfrey sees enki lost in thought and then sits down. He makes his way over to enki and sits next to him.

'How fares your evening dear brother? And I haven't met your ghoul yet. Pray what do you call yourself?'

He directs his last question to the ghoul with a warm smile.

Godfrey looks her up and down.

'He has chosen well. You seem quite capable in handling yourself when need be. Maybe I should get one too.'

He turns back to enki

'I would love to hear the details sometime; in privacy of course. But must be difficult if you are lamenting over it like this. Can't say I remember the last time an experiment has perplexed you. Mayhap I can give insight.'

He leans back in his chair and crosses his legs and folds his on his legs.

A new year, a new century, a new city...it matters little, Aserymus supposes. The stones may change, the weather colder, but some things you could rely on. Like the people. The people were much the same, in one part of the world or another.

Still, formalities must be observed, and this would give him a chance to get a feel for this strange city on the water. People were easy enough to read. And what better way to overcome two obstacles at once?

Striding into the halls of this court, his golden breastplate clanking against the large, domed shield on his back, and his crested helmet turning only slightly so that he might take in the courtiers and attendants, he stops some 30 paces past the doors. In a deep voice, clearly and in thickly-accented Dutch, he lets fly his first social volley.

"I am Aserymus. Some call me the Lion of Tunis. Am I speaking to the Prince of this city?"

Regarding the court's Keeper for the briefest of moments longer, Aserymus simply nods before reaching upwards with both hands and removing his helmet, revealing a well-groomed and oiled beard and golden nose ring, as well as a jagged scar vertically crossing his left eye. Clutching the helmet in the crook of his arm, he casts his gaze about the other attendees, giving each a cursory appraisal before moving on.

Slowly moving to one side of the hall, he takes up a position where his back is to one solid wall, and awaits the arrival of the local Prince.