For the rest of the day he was left alone, more or less. The only people who came by were the odd servant, who came to replace his bandages, put some mysterious salves on his back and give him turbid water to drink; which he tried to avoid. From what he could tell they were ordered not to speak with him. Any questions would mostly be ignored if it couldn't be answered with a nod or a shake of the head and many requests outside the most critical were also ignored. From his observations, he realized that he wasn't anywhere near home, and in the best case being aided by a bunch of very dedicated actors at a renaissance fair. He studied the varying array of items that laid on the floor or hung on the shelves most of it was hand-crafted for the most part, but also well-made indicating that most was expensive most of the paintings and statuettes seemed to be made by one person though it was hard to properly determine while he was stuck in this little corner of his new world, unable to move.
The sun was beginning to set when the next person came in, a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and bushy eyebrows. He began lighting candles, occasionally stealing a glance at Don. This went on for twenty or so minutes before Don signaled the man to come to him. Don looked at the man and gave a soft smile in an attempt to have him open up. The man returned the smile and began to leave once more. Don scarcely had a chance to say anything to him before he left, his steps growing more and more quiet with each passing second. It was at this moment Don decided he had to get up and try to assess things himself.
He decided to go to the door; which seemed just out of reach. Mentally steeling himself for the daunting task of walking fifteen feet, Don looked at his path that he would be following, carved from the items that were carelessly laid on the ground. With a deep breath, he carefully sat up. One last look at the bed he was laying just moments before, the center of his currently small world. The pain flared as he stood up on wobbling legs, Don felt like screaming but fought with all his might to avoid doing so. His journey began with a heavy, awkward step, he didn't realize how stiff he was till he truly began moving. Don soon got his leg caught in a large metal ring, twisting and reacting in ways a man in his condition should never try; all to avoid crashing into the ground and most likely impaling himself on a sculpture of a man holding a sword proudly to the sky. After ten, agonizing minutes he reached the door. it was made of aged wood with a brass doorknob that seemed more for decorative than practical.
With a slight push, the door crept open, revealing a short hallway leading to a series of stairs that lead into another candlelit room. The hallway itself held nothing remarkable but three doors, counting his own and a window. Don crept to the window, the glass was thin and clearly imperfect. The frame rattled with every gust of wind. Upon looking outside, he froze in shock, He could see nothing but three large stone walls, a series of arrow loops were placed in an even pattern. There was the odd guard staring out into the distance atop the walls or rhythmically walking a set path. In the middle, there was a half-burned keep. Scorch marks marred the grey stone, staining it with streaks of black.
"Was I in there? That's impossible, I have never stepped into a keep, castle or fort in my life. How would I end up from Oregon to…? Here?" he thought to himself. Spending an hour watching the sky darken and be replaced by a plethora of stars, he allowed his mind to wander for longer than he cared for; but this was his first taste of freedom since he was tossed in this strange hell of his and cast the title of 'Lord'. Pondering whether to explore more or to retire to his filth laden room for a handful of moments he decided to investigate the other rooms on this floor before calling it a night. He slowly shuffled from the window to the door nearest to it. Reaching it in several small but pained steps he paused slightly. Before deciding to lightly knock. "Come in." A Hoarse voice responded. Don swung open the door and saw the 2 men he saved earlier laying on straw and blankets. Much of their bodies wrapped up in bandages, leaving him to picture the pair as mummies.
The two tried sitting up to great him but a series of coughs and groans followed.
"please lay down. No need to get up for me." Don Implored
It was the older of the two that responded to him. Coughing between every other word. "Lord af Marsal, you saved us. The least we can do is properly greet you."
The younger man nodded in affirmation. Happy to see people who were in the mood or allowed to speak to him, don began asking a series of questions. Where was he, why was everyone calling him lord, and why did Maersk react so when he denied being this Carthin fellow, and a dozen more inquiries.
"Well, to begin I am your Chamberlain, Estak. I have been with your family and this holding for 20 years." The older man said proudly, with only the odd cough. He propped himself up slowly gestured to the rough-voiced young man next to him. "The fellow next to me is Torren one of the guardsmen and one of the four survivors of this horrid ordeal, counting us my lord. We are currently in the small, but blessed barony of Thalais directly under Duke Reveire of Datal. You, my lordship are the third ruler of your family to hold the fair Barony. With your father and grandfather before you respectively. Your father Lord Ernos passed when you were in your seventh year leaving all lands and titles to you."
Don was mystified, it seemed these people truly believed that he was Carthin. His scholastic nature soon took hold of him, enraptured with learning what this Estak had to say.
"after your father's tragic demise Sir Maersk grew close to your mother and the two soon wedded, it was quite the affair. A feast to riv- apologies, it seems I got a tad sidetracked." The man fell into a coughing fit. With a grunt, Torren handed the chamberlain a glass of water from a nearby pitcher allowing him to drink his fill.
"Are you okay Mr. Estak do you need me to get a doctor?" Don asked out of concern.
"There is not much they can do for me that has not been done already," Estak replied. "I believe I was talking about Maersk. After he wedded your mother Maersk took great care in raising you and your sister. You loved that old tin can like he was your true-blood father. Losing your sister and seeing your mind fractured no doubt broke him."
Don recalled the sobs he heard earlier. A wave of guilt tore through him as he realized how he devastated Maersk, albeit accidentally. Vowing to himself to be more cautious with his words till he really understood the scope of what was happening here.