Dylan watched in silence from her perch amidst the boughs of the St. Abbot's Pine which grew on the Leonard's property. From here, she was able to observe how the light in each room of the Leonard household died out in similar fashion to embers cooling in a fire, as each resident of the house retired for the night. The ermine, who had been present the entire time that Searciara was outside with her father and with Donovan, for the purpose of what their first step would be in trying to find the tomb and treasure of Aloysius St. Abbot; and who had read the lips of the residents of the burrow, so that she too could learn of how the stone that she Gutgore possessed was only a guide stone to the actual map.
Dylan nervously fingered the crystal which Gutgore had given to her, as she tried to distract herself from the call she was expecting. She held in her free paw an apple. A succulent, lime-green piece of fruit, which she pressed to her lips while continuing to keep vigil over the now dark house. The white weasel for the most part, attempting to come up with some reasonable supplement which would at the very least sedate Ghulius' legendary rage. For she knew even as she felt the crystal vibrate against her thigh, and that as she looked down with apprehension at the slow flashing red glow it put off, that keeping a steady head on Gutgore's shoulders was not only vital to his plan of beating Colin and of claiming a treasure that no one in centuries had been able to get their hands on; but also, to the equally important goal, of her own continued survival.
The ermine took a deep breath, before she took the crystal off her belt. Exhaling, she took a moment and managed to calm her nerves before tapping the claw that capped her pointer finger onto the surface of the crystal.
The crystal stopped vibrating as Dylan answered the call. It stopped flashing, as well. Before a holographic projection of Captain Ghulius Gutgore's face, appeared as a red-lit construct above the device.
"Well?" the polar bear snarled. The jaw of the holographic construct making some rather amusing gestures, as he spoke. For at least one of the communication crystals being used was either damaged or had not been calibrated properly. A fact which thus, left Dylan in an immensely amused state. Not, that one could see it, as she kept her emotions to herself and got strictly to business, when her Captain asked for an update.
"They just went to bed," she reported in plain and simple terms to the polar bear. "Lights are out in the house, and they seem to have already formulated a plan as to how they will approach finding the lost tomb and its treasures."
"So soon!?"
"Yes."
"But how?"
Dylan gulped. "It seems," she replied to the polar bear, "that the claims Colin made pertaining to his daughter's impressive intellect and toward the notion of her having vast knowledge about the history of Mintara, were not by any means unsubstantiated."
"Oh, no?"
Dylan shook her head. "The little brat found a mistake in my translation, my captain," she whispered apologetically. "She discovered not only that the stone which we have in our possession was actually a relic created by the ermines who lived during the latter half of the Musteladonian Empire instead of those who lived after its collapse, as I originally thought; but also, took note of a message encrypted in the relic. An oversight I admit, I am ashamed that I missed. I swear, from this moment forth, I shall dedicate myself to the act of being ever more vigilant and effective in my duties."
Gutgore growled. "You'd better," he snapped in agitation at the ermine. "A failure like this...this is not like you, Frostwood. I don't want to see it happen again. Understood? Remember I pulled you from the gutter. I made you into someone. That doesn't mean, you aren't expendable, nor that I can't throw you back, forget about you, and find someone to be your replacement. You got that?"
Dylan gulped and nodded. "Absolutely sir," she replied. "And while we are on the matter of Aloysius St. Abbot," she added, "you should know we don't actually have the map to find the location of his tomb and his treasure."
"WHAT!?"
The holographic image of Gutgore trembled as he let loose a fierce, aggravated roar. "Well, what in blazes do we have then!?" he growled, as he managed to calm down just a bit. "Someone's idea of a practical joke? Another attempt by Colin to outsmart me? What!?"
Dylan sighed. "Try a guidestone," she murmured, keeping her cool amidst the tempestuous nature of her master. "That is, the stone is a guide to the map. That's what, the encoded word was for. It was translated by Colin's daughter, to read Kry'x."
"Kry'x?"
Dylan nodded from her end of the transmission. "In Erminic," she explained, "The pronunciation roughly translates to, kryux, and it means cross or crozier, in basic Mintaran."
"Okay..."
Dylan rolled her eyes. "The map, is in a collection of poems, written by the otter noble Edvard Tan Crozier," she explained. "We have the guidestone leading to it, but Colin and Donovan..."
"...They have the map," Gutgore growled. The polar bear from his end of the transmission where he sat comfortably on the ship, then smiled mischievously, as a plan formulated in his mind.
"Alright," he growled, to Dylan over the crystal. "You've done well, relaying this information to me, my pet. Now, I have new instructions for you, regarding what you are to do next. First, go to the Idle Weasel in downtown Ravenmist Glen. Look for a badger named Hilde. She and I have done business on more than one occasion. She will gladly assist you, if you but mention my name."
Dylan nodded. "Understood," she whispered. "What do I do, once this is done?"
Gutgore widened his grin. "Embed yourself with them," he snarled wickedly. "Get them to believe your interest is their interest. That you, as a point of speaking plainly, believe this is an injustice that's been done, the way they've been forced to complete a task that others with five times their experience, have not been able to perform."
"Make them believe, I want to help them complete their quest, in other words?"
Gutgore nodded from his end of the transmission. "Precisely," he growled. "They will be so desperate for adequate assistance, that they will leap at the opportunity of adding even one like-minded individual to their party."
"An opportunity," Dylan purred, as she masterfully scaled her way down from the tree back to the ground, "which then will conceal my real objective as I continue to spy on them, report their movements and actions, and if necessary, sabotage them, should they come too close to achieving their goal of finding the tomb and its treasures. Is that correct?"
Gutgore growled and nodded. "Correct." He affirmed from his end of the transmission. "Go well, my pet. And know with your service to me, you help to achieve victory and glory for us both."
Dylan nodded.
"Yes, my captain." She replied, before she then tapped the crystal again with her claw. The ermine once having ended the transmission, then crept down out of the tree. She while stalking through the shadows of the night towards the road which led back into town, stealthily made her way to the inn, with one thing on her mind the whole time.
Donovan. That young marten whom Dylan had seen both aboard the Hoarfrost's Halberd and now as a guest of Colin. The ermine thought about how his innocent and trusting nature doubled on the delightful truth that he'd clearly shown signs of being infatuated with her aboard ship, could work to her advantage. All she might have to do is turn on the charm, convince him they have shared interests in historical preservation and study or whatnot.... "Yes. This could do nicely," thought Dylan as she reached the inn and as she entered its crowded halls with a smirk on her face. "Very nicely, indeed."