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Beald was sitting at the small table in his home indulging in a cup of hot tea within the small home that he lived in. He blew a breath over his cup before he lifted it up, about to take a step when a trio of knocks sounded. He paused with his cup almost at his lips and turned toward the door. He starred at it for a long moment before he lowered his cup down to the table and he pushed himself to his feet, hand reaching out to take hold of the handle of his favorite shovel before he made his way to the door.

Beald wasn't an all together trusting man, especially given the time of day it was. If he was already awake meant that it was far later then when normal visitor to this place arrived. If he had to make a guess he would say it was teenagers, they seemed to rejoice in coming around bothering him. Something about messing with 'The Old Wolf' that prowled around the graveyard at night seemed fun to them, they seemed to enjoy trying his patience and there were days that he wanted nothing more then to thump them with his shovel... he would make due with chasing them off though since often times the brats belonged to people with important parents. He reached his hand out to take hold of the doorknob and pulled it open.

"What?" He demanded the six foot tall wall of muscle that starred down at the man before him with narrowed orange eyes... and then he seemed almost to relax when he took in the look of the one before him, most certainly this wasn't a teenager come here to knock over graves or attempt to otherwise make Beald's life Hell he realized before he lowered his shovel, letting the metal spade touch the ground, "I am assuming your looking to have a grave dug? You will want to return when the sun is up so we can find a plot." He told the well dressed man that he assumed was here looking for a place to bury a loved one, after all what else would bring such a well dressed person to a graveyard? No reason that Beald could think of straight away.

This one seemed to like to talk a lot, didn't he? Beald gave a little grunt when he was told that the man wasn't here to see about obtaining a burial plot, instead he was here for other matters entirely it would seem. He seemed to only take a true interest in what was being said to him at the mention of the name 'Amerald'. He found himself looking a touch suspicious if only because he knew those matters were supposed to be kept a secret and here was someone new questioning him about them.

"It was some time ago that I spoke with Amerald and it wasn't at length." He said, stepping back to allow the man inside. He would be able to judge rather easily if the man were hear digging up dirt on Amerald or if he were here as a messenger for him, "Do come in, I don't have much more to offer at this time then a cup of tea and a chair." He motioned to the table that was sitting in the middle of the main room before he moved off to fetch a second cup from the cabinet. It wasn't often that he had company, if ever, that wasn't tied to his work in some fashion so this was all quite new to Beald.

"Beald Ingolfr is my name, I would have yours." He said, the younger man should have introduced himself straight away but this generation seemed to lack the same manners as his he thought to himself as he set the second cup down on the table.

Beald fetched the tea pot from where it hung over a small fire in the fireplace, brought it over, and poured. There was a small bowl that held sugar cubes in it that was sitting on the table, for guests only as Beald didn't add anything to his tea preferring it plain. Once that little chore was done and the pot was replaced he moved to sit down in his seat, looking at the one called Verchiel Corbet, an interesting name for a man with an interesting job he thought to himself.

He seemed to relax just a touch more when the man told him what it was that he wanted here, "An apprentice, I see." Better that he was working with Amerald then against him Beald decided. He might not have any emotional attach, or any attachment at all, to Amerald but it didn't mean he felt like being bothered by those who might have something against him or his work.

Picking up his own cup in his large, calloused hands once more the older man took a long sip from the cup, savored the unsweetened liquid, and swallowed, "Feel free to begin whenever you like, Mr. Corbet." He said, the sooner the better after all since he would need to get to work prowling the graveyard to chase off anyone that wanted to mess with what was under his protection. For the moment he would concentrate on the business at hand, an interview Mr. Corbet had said. He couldn't even begin to recall the last time that he had ever done that sort of thing if ever since his job was one that he'd never had to do an interview for since it was the sort that had been passed down to him.

Beald seemed somehow pleased that the man didn't add a bunch of unneeded sweeteners to his tea, it was always a shame watching people ruin the taste of the drink with such things. Not that it was something one could read on his face, instead he was just watching him quietly and thinking over the answers to his questions, "I found out about it by accident, I can't say its exactly something I would go seeking out." He told him, after all it seemed that just knowing about it was a hassle if it brought strange people to his home in the middle of the night."My time with Amerald was short and I wasn't able to speak in great detail with the man either, it was just a short conversation."

A shame if you asked Beald because he didn't know as much as he would like to about exactly what it was that Amerald was doing, he had been hoping for another talk with him but he supposed that his apprentice would have to do, "I will be honest is saying that were I to have learned about ten or even five years ago I wouldn't have really showed any interest in it but now..." He gave a shrug instead of finishing the sentence and having to admit to the fact that Amerald's business once he had learned about it was actually interesting to him now that he was getting on in age.

"I believe I am following along on the exact same path as the man who took me in so long ago and raised me." He explained to Corbet, starring for a moment into his cup, looking a bit thoughtful, "I am not getting any younger and the woman I love married another long ago. I've realized that if I ever want to have a child, someone to follow in my footsteps, I would need to do either what the man who raised me did or take the path offered to me by Amerald instead."

It would seem as though the former would be a lot easier, to adopt a normal child that didn't come with many strings attached, to raise that child to follow in Beald's footsteps, and then leave him in charge of the duties in the Graveyard once he had learned all he needed to know. It would be easier but it would also involve a lot of footwork that Beald didn't have time for, "Amerald seemed to appear at just the right time with an offer of something that would be quite tempting to me." He said, sipping his tea. He really wondered if Amerald knew more about Beald then he had let on. He also wondered how much Amerald's apprentice knew, surely just as much if he were going to send the man in his stead.

He supposed in the long run it didn't matter though, did it? What mattered was the talk at hand and if Corbet and Amerald would deem Beald someone worthy to be a part of their work.

Beald listened closely to what was being said to him before he gave a slow smile. That the child that would carrying on his legacy in a manner that was more then in name only, that he would be a part of Beald. As for how it would be done he found himself a touch curious, he was about to ask when Corbet produced a key from his pocket and set to work unlocking the cuff that he was wearing, then opened up the briefcase to reveal a rather interesting looking feather and with it a strange combination of a vial of liquid and a needle, those second two items looking together a bit like a vaccination though he doubted it could be that.

"A King of Saxony?" He asked before he chuckled, finding great amusement that a bird with a royal name was what was being used in this given how far from royalty Beald was and as far from Paradise as his house would seem to most people.

The older man fell into silence as the man caught hold of his hand, watching quietly and without protest as the tip of his index finger was pricked. It wasn't so bad, just the loss of a couple drops of blood and nothing more. He'd been injured far worse in his time so a little p***k wasn't nearly enough to draw any reaction from the grave digger. He watched as the blood fell into the blue liquid causing it to shift into a bright, glowing purple. That glowing liquid was drawn up into a syringe then injected into the feather? He couldn't help but to tilt his head slightly to one side in a curious manner, wondering how this was going to work before his gaze left the feather to stare at Corbet as he gave out his instructions. To put the feather on a pillow or flat surface, something comfortable for when his gift woke up... an interesting choice of words.

Beald rose to his feet, following after Amerald's Apprentice as he headed for the door, looking out, watching the man's back as he traveled across the graveyard and out of sight, "Strange way to start the night." He murmured to himself, turning to head back into the house. He would see about moving the King Bird's feather to sitting on the bed, not sure how long it would take for it to awaken but he wouldn't be using his bed for some time so he should be alright to leave it there to rest.