Radley

Though not of aristocratic blood himself, Radley was pleased to be counted among their ranks. Even if it was just ignorant peasants confusing a mercantile logo with a family crest - and a portrait with a patent of lineage - maybe if enough people believed it, it would become true. Seeing his owl crest hoisted up by the rabble with such reverance made him smile inside.

Outside, he controlled his expression carefully, acting the part of a knight or paladin. "Yes, Mister Kherhenn. Yes I am." He surveys the gate and walls, then the crowd of people, as Mathias walks off on his errand. He tries to look every bit like a general inspecting troops, like a man used to giving orders and seeing his plans succeed.

Only half-true... bluff - (1d20+21)[31]

"Alright then. Where have you been living? Do you have a fortified position? We'll need to get our worgs--our wolves--inside and fed. They're our cavalry and they are to be treated as such."