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"I think that will be two meals, please, Mrs Hastings."
"Right you are sirs. You get yourselves sat down at my ol table and I'll get it meself."

And indeed, near the main stove, in the warmest part of the kitchen, there was an old rustic table and stools, clearly used by the cook to rest in between stirring pots.

Bustling about and chivvying along the two assistants in the room, both of whom bobbed and curtseyed as much as any of the cleaning staff, Hastings prepared two large, steaming plates of grouse, gravy and veg. Setting them on the table, she pulled out a thick chopping board, and a round loaf of freshly cooked farm bread from the warming oven, slicing off thick chunks to set alongside, the crust pleasantly crisp to the bite.
In all, the sort of warming fare offered in farm kitchen throughout the UK for centuries. What set it apart, however, despite Mrs Hastings affable country accent, was that the entire thing had been flavoured exquisitely, to a degree no gourmet could find fault with.

"You get that down you sirs. Plenty more if you need it, and make sure you clean your plates. I don't like to see good food wasted, and I don't have a dog to give the left overs."
"Alas, Madame Hastings, this is no place for a dog. I will let you know as soon as her Ladyship acquires another temporary mutt in residence."
"If that remains me only option, I'd rather not. Too much red meat, and dirty paws all over the carpets! Eat up, Mr Jan, you of all people need your sustenance."

Bustling out the back into a washing area, the sounds of tidying and cleaning were masked by the gentle roar of the fire

"Mrs Hastings is one of the best chefs to come out of this country in a century."

Smiling, Jan was but halfway through his meal when Dagoth had finished, carefully slicing a tender strip of flesh from the frame of the bird before him, before consuming it.

He then slid the plate aside, and stood.

"Come, let me show you our training facilities, before Mrs Hastings returns to berat...."
"Tis not berating if its for yer own health Mr Jan! Half a meal is not enough for the Lady's vassal! You're wasting away! I'll put the rest into a sandwich, and I insist it's eaten before you retire."
"...yes, Madame Hastings. Thank you."

Smiling sheepishly in turn, Jan indicated for Dagoth to follow him.
The route now? Downstairs to the large sound proofed doors in the main hall, and the spacious room beyond. Curious lines in the walls indicated some purpose, and once both were within, Jan entered a few basic commands into the panel near the door, until the room shimmered into a simulation of a dojo, one of the slots in the wall opening to release a humanoid shaped drone, which filled out into the facsimilie of a sparring partner.

"Her Ladyship is not short of funds, and sees fit to use them for such eccentricities as this. The technology is still dependant on light technology, though admittedly some other secrets are built in.

If sir wishes to initiate combat and training, you will need a pair of gloves, boots, and a visor system in which to simulate the full sensations of the experience. Sir is however ensured no genuine wounds within the system.

Her Ladyship has intent to upgrade it in the next few years to avoid such necessities."

Passing over the items he mentioned, Jan smiled.

"You are welcome to access any of the basic perimeters of the room, however it will not allow much else until such time as her Ladyship allocates a code to you. It will allow for basic sparring, use of ambient settings et cetera. In order to end a simulation, remove the visor, close your eyes and reach out for a wall. End program, is the command sir will need.

Will this suit your purpose?"

"Invalid command. Loading: Summer simulation."

The quiet, calm voice of the computer over rode Jan for a moment, before loading Dagoth's request.

"Sorry sir. As I was saying, YES, you can use your own weapons - the light arrays will pick them up, and the drones are cheap and hard wearing. As for the computer, it cant understand months yet, just seasons. Sadly, for a while, the hardware and software are still limited. Still, it should provide a basic distraction?

Is there anything else I can assist sir with today?"

"I will ask her Ladyship with regards to forging, Sir."

Smiling, he was about to turn when Dagoth made a comment. Jan froze, but covered it quickly, coughing softly before replying in a very calm voice.

"...there are no beasts presently detained on the grounds. Only the young Master, and the Mercenary."

"So that's your tell."

Dagoth sniffed, gun grease, cordite, brass and coca cola. That was not what he was expecting when the new scent appeared at the base of the door. The Pirate returned his attention to the Butler before him, his tone far more serious as Dagoth deemed his health at risk.

"Do not lie Jan. Something, primal awoke here. I could feel it. Tell me"

"Corbin....wonder if he's the one outside."

Dagoth nodded to the door, he was sure that Jan had noticed who ever it was before the pirate had. Whilst they had been conversing Dagoth had continued to keep a fighting distance between the two of them. He still wasn't sure how the butler would react to Dagoths comments.

"Shall we let him in."