Derrick stepped into the study and pulled the heavy door shut behind him.
The room was warm thanks to the fire burning in the chimney.
Sir Thompson was seated behind a large desk covered in scrolls and old artifacts.
His eyes had lit up the second Derrick walked in through that door.
"Sit down, Derrick," he said, his voice calm and familiar.
He moved to the chair and lowered himself into it carefully, still holding the stiff posture of the old man's disguise.
He looked across the desk at the face of the man who had shaped him into the warrior he was today.
"Take off that ugly disguise," Sir Thompson said, laughing. He had clearly never seen anything more ridiculous in his life.
Derrick laughed too, though his came out dry and hollow. He pulled back the hood and removed the coat, setting them aside.
Sir Thompson smiled. "Now. Tell me everything."
