You wonder a little more about the man who is obviously 'Jareth' as your feet follow the stone path ahead of you, winding through almost violently bright splashes of floral colour. He HAS to be the king, but there was no crown. The weight of metal around your neck sparks your memory. Didn't the goblin say this pendant belonged to "'Is Majesty"? That puffy haired guy didn't mention anything about it, so he couldn't have been king, you conclude grinning proudly to youself. Good old powers of deduction. Besides, what kind of king wears tights?

Your thoughts are cut off by the warm musty smell of hay and animals. Turning the corner around a low wall, a long stretching stable lies ahead, various rings and paddocks laid out neatly before and after it. A few horses cavort about the white fenced enclosures, and the flash of a bright red tunic catches your attention. Curious, you meander over to what looks like the main barn.

The flash of red catches your eye again, as a lanky figure with flame red tunic, cinched at the waist nearly tumbled over slopping water from the buckets he carries everywhere, and all over himself as well.