[WFRP] The Bloody Crown X

[-Sentinel-]

Elsabeth Holt


"It's not, ah, right for someone of your... stature, to have to sleep in the common hall."

Elsa rolled her eyes. "I know this is about my safety, not my stature. And I understand. Lead on." She carried her most prized book herself, lest one of the sisters decide to have an idle look inside before bringing it to Elsa's new quarters.

As far as company went, she infinitely preferred that of one cheerful, oblivious eccentric over that of a number of tired, bereaved, dispossessed, angry people who likely (and rightfully) blamed her for their misfortunes. Reinholt, for all that he was a few pints short of a full keg, struck her as far less unpredictable than the other patients of the hospital.

"So," Reinholt said, brightly. "Have you been with the temple long?"

Elsa smiled. She welcomed a chance for a conversation that was unlikely to turn sour. "Oh, I've only just been initiated. They took my measurements and are making my robes. It's an honor to meet you, my lord. The other sisters speak highly of your support for our good works."

She curtsied awkwardly, winced in pain, and lay down on her cot.