The next morning, a coach bearing the livery of the town guilds drew up outside their temporary residence to transport them to the Countess’ townhouse – Elsa, Sieghard, and at most two of the Thorns. It had all the grand trappings of a Nuln guildmaster’s personal carriage, but Elsa noticed the driver was wearing his colourful uniform jacket over what looked like a tradesman’s street clothes, and rather than coach-horses the vehicle carriage was drawn by a single, plodding carthorse. The guilds of Putbad liked to give themselves airs, that was clear, but it seemed they were not quite as grand or as wealthy as they made out.
Leona Groz’s house sat on a shallow rise to the north side of the town, over the rushing river and almost nestled in among the jagged teeth of the Karst. Made of the same sooty limestone as the rocks, it stood shoulder-to-shoulder with houses that were equally large – which, all in all, wasn’t saying much. For the residence of a ruler, it made no effort to stand out from its neighbours. Elsa was sure Irene would have had something to say about that.
They were admitted by a couple of servants, who took their cloaks and boots with attitudes as deferent as if they were welcoming a lord. When they had made themselves scarce, the Countess herself descended down the old elm staircase. Surprisingly, she was dressed rather more richly than before – nothing flashy, but there was more gold thread and jewellery on display for this private meeting than Elsa remembered from the dinner.
“Frau Ardelean,” she beamed, from the landing – in her condition she clearly didn’t want to ascend or descend more stairs than were strictly necessary. “I’m so happy you could spare the time to talk. Please – the others are waiting upstairs.”
Following her back up to the upper floor, Elsa and Sieghard were shown into a richly-furnished study or drawing room. Two men were waiting within – the young soldier Hagendorf, and Tobar of the Coopers.
Pausing discreetly to check that no servants were lingering on the landing, Leona stepped in after them and closed the door with a soft
click. Hagendorf rose to help her back into her vacant seat – she smiled and accepted his assistance.
“That’s better,” she said. “Please, Fraulein Hildebrand, take a seat.” The pretence of ‘Frau Ardelean’ had been discarded like a half-eaten apple. “Or should I call you
Magister? Tobar was unsure on the etiquette.”
The bearded guildmaster inclined his head in a knowing bow.
“I believe both of these two have already been introduced. You can trust them as you would trust me – both are my husband’s faithful advisers, and both have known your real identity since before you arrived in Putbad.” Levering herself up on the arms of her chair, she shifted her weight to make herself a little more comfortable. “So, we are dying to hear – what is this offer that Muzio Sforza is so very keen to make us?”
OOC: Spoiler
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Again, descriptions of Elsa’s preparations and dice rolls for any attempts to influence NPCs will be appreciated.
Re: [WFRP] The Bloody Crown VIII
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