🎀 Wisteria 🎀

Around noon, the door to the "Griffin" headquarters burst open, and a swift black whirlwind with purple highlights rushed in, which, as it soon turned out, was Valdemar Karaf. Vigorously waving the volume of "Legends of Krag" clutched in his right hand, he stopped in the center of the main hall and was already ready to tell the people about the results of his literary research yesterday, but, not seeing the proper enthusiasm on the faces of those present, he tempered his ardor. -- Well, what are these sour faces? Is the morning not going well? Is it already past noon? Or has someone died here? As it turned out, that was exactly what had happened. Valdemar even became quite serious upon hearing the news. -- And it's true... he's really dead... -- he frowned. -- And where has everyone run off to now? The Baron – has he rushed to the square? Ah, yes. That... one. I guess I'll get used to this eventually. Valdemar, who had spent the previous night reading the epic about Krag until late, while simultaneously consuming brandy, fell asleep with the thought of how insignificant and pathetic today's life is compared to the past, glorious, and heroic, albeit somewhat chaotic, times. This thought was further aggravated by his acquaintance with the Baron's heroes, an interest in whom he, of course, respected and even shared in his friend, but until today, he had never truly believed in. And now, here it is. Hello, real world, you have managed to surprise me after all. Meanwhile, the spoiled stomach of the aristocrat treacherously rumbled. Valdemar, too engrossed in the ancient legend, had ignored both the evening and morning meals, and now he was going to have a meal at "Snow White," but – alas! It seems he will be dining at "Sukube" today. Moreover, variety is always a good thing.