[video]

[mismanagement]

[The video shows Maketh and Henry sitting next to each other. Maketh’s uniform has been ironed half to death, all of the angles sharp enough to cut, and she quite possibly has never looked so professional in her life.]

Hello, Hadriel. Many of you have been patrolling and protecting the city on your own. It’s time to make that official. We have taken one of the unoccupied buildings to serve as a headquarters and would invite anyone and everyone who wishes to help to come and sign up. We are going to start patrolling on a schedule, with regular reports and check-ins. It appears that we’re going to be stuck here for a while, so we ought to do this right.

We are also looking for anyone willing to teach self-defense to the civilians. Speak to myself or Henry Percy if you are interested.

[Henry wears full plate armour, of late fourteenth century craftsmanship. There is assurance in his posture throughout Maketh's address. He speaks only after she has said all that needs to be said.]

The strength of any community is bestowed in part by its unity. To that end, we aim to make a worthy contribution. Soon those who seek assistance may easily avail themselves of ours.

[Attached to the message is a map, with the location guard headquarters marked.]

Comments

[hotspurred]

[After many months in Hadriel where his name means nothing, Henry finds himself moderately surprised by the recognition -- a reaction which feels strange in itself, because he is used to fame.]

That would depend on what the implies.

[He cocks his head, intrigued.]

If it be Hotspur, then I am he.

[quaerit]

[ Good God, that’s incredible. Gansey feels a thrill of excitement, and unfortunately for anyone else who might be listening, that means he’ll be running on a tangent here. ]

Jesus, I never thought - !

I mean, I should have, obviously, the possibility was always there what with people arriving from different times, but…

No, what am I doing, I mean to say... My name is Gansey. It's...well, frankly unbelievable to be meeting you. I’ve been studying the period you’re from for a very long time. What year are you from? Have you yet encountered Owain Glendower, of Wales?

[hotspurred]

[There is a trace of impatience in Henry's expression as he listens to Gansey ramble, soon followed a flash of calculation in his eyes -- because if Gansey knows the particulars of the future relevant to him, then it is in his interest not to provide a year, lest it silence talk of events beyond it.]

Owain Glendower? [There is recognition in his tone.] Wherefore your interest?

[That Henry's brow creases in puzzlement rather than suspicion suggests that Glendower's rebellion has yet to begin. As he cannot ignore both questions and hope to gain anything, Henry strains his memory for an answer.]

Some years ago. Edinburgh...?

[By which he means the short 1385 English invasion. Considering that Otterburn and everything in France followed, the occasions upon which he met Glendower are comparatively unmemorable. He idly taps gauntleted fingers against his plate. The Scrope-Grosvenor trial aside, it must have been Edinburgh.]

That would be the last time in more than just passing.

[quaerit]

[ That timeline is so neatly entrenched in Gansey's mind that he doesn't need to think twice. This is a young Hotspur. Gansey will need to be careful not to give away any upsetting details. He leans forward, his expression alight with interest. ]

I'm fascinated by his life. My time is some eight hundred years in your future, Sir Henry. I've been searching for Glendower's tomb.

[ Because, clearly, there's some question about that. Gansey moves right along, though. ]

The stories of your time are legends in mine. May I ask how long you've been here?