[WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter's eyebrows went up at the Bretonnian's vehemence.

"Hm... well. I suppose I could give it a try," he said, a tad uncertainly. "But I've not been trained to mend broken bones... only to quell blood loss while waiting for a surgeon to take over."

He bent down. "Forgive me, Mr Ribault, but I'm a cautious man," he said as he searched the Bretonnian's coat, pants and boots for hidden daggers. Not that the man had anything to gain by murdering him, but it did not hurt to be careful.

He gave Ribault a bit of rope to bite on, opened the Bretonnian's shirt with his dagger, then tried to put the broken and dislocated bones back into place to the best of his abilities.

Heal 57: (d100)[40]

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

Why so afraid of the doctor? What does he know?

Illiiya looked over the scene with a weary sigh, finding something good and sturdy to lean on and relax for a moment. It had been a trying night. She wanted to get answers... from the Breton, the doctor... someone. But it seemed that would not be the case tonight. She gave Ithelus a weary look, seeking some expression of more understanding that she had, but it seemed a moot point. If the grey wind was meant to confuse and befuddle the mind, it was almost unneeded this night.

OOC:

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Illiiya shall be on stand-by, keeping an eye on the doctor even more than anyone here... but unless something else comes up, she's hurt and tired and ready to call it a night.

[LCP]

Standing beside Pieter, Leopold’s expression changed slowly to one of incredulity as the initiate rifled the contents of Ribault’s coat and boots, passing his findings up for Mr Faulebrand’s son to hold. The Bretonnian had a lot of knives, and Leopold only had so many hands.

Pieter had dared to hope that Ribault would be maimed for life by his unanticipated fall, but it was clear from the way he had struggled that he had gotten off reasonably lightly. There was no blood around his mouth, which meant the lungs were intact. A handsome welter of bruises was already mottling its way across the Bretonnian’s (too hairy) chest, but Pieter had the feeling that their irrepressible captive would be up and about far too soon. That was, if he didn’t find himself swinging from the bough of a tree.

From behind them, there was the sound of a closing door. Looking round, Sigurd saw that Lord Verloren had silently departed the scene. Leopold cleared his throat, sensing a little too keenly the sullen atmosphere that hung over the still-angry villagers.

“Let’s get him off m’Lord’s property, eh?” he said. “Mr Waite, if you’ll lend a hand.”

Between them, he and Sigurd pulled Ribault to his feet, one arm over each of their shoulders so that they could drag him if need be. Lothar stepped a little closer, a confident hand on the pommel of his sword.

“I’d best stay here, have a look at the boy,” said Reifennen, gesturing towards the stable door. He spoke brusquely, a little offended at being usurped. “Can’t be too careful with someone who’s been knocked on the head - knew a lad in Altdorf who forgot his own name.”

The peasants were beginning to talk among themselves, some making way for Ribault’s would-be gaolers while others stubbornly stood their ground, forcing the injured man to be dragged this way and that towards the gates. Before he could turn to follow them, Pieter was stopped by the doctor. Putting his petulance aside, the man spoke courteously.

“Send for me when he’s sleeping, will you? I hardly wish him well, but a crushing like this could have ruptured him on the inside. Hard to spot. I might have some things that would help.” He smiled. “Not to throw any aspersions on your skill, of course. You must forgive me if my first impressions misled me, Mr Hagen... I can see that you know what you’re doing.”

He gave a civil inclination of his head, turning to let Pieter go. “I shouldn’t be too long here. You’ll find me at the butcher’s.” With a brief glance over his shoulder at the departing Sigurd, he headed for the door.

~

Someone in the inn was clearly watching for them – the door opened before Lothar could knock, Wulli’s wife looking fearfully out at the bloody, tousle-haired creature that Leopold and Sigurd carted between them.

Behind her, the common room was empty. Looking from face to face, Mrs Hofstadter stepped back to allow them over the threshold.

“Shallya preserve us, it is him,” she muttered to herself. She looked across at Ithelus. “I sent them as stayed behind home, sir. Thought it best. Wulli’s abed, he’s been taken poorly.”

“Very competent of you, Mrs Hofstadter,” grunted Leopold, Ribault’s weight evidently causing some pain in his shoulder wound. “You don’t have anywhere where we can lock Monsieur up for the night, do you?”

“Got the cellar,” said Mrs Hofstadter. “I ain’t leavin’ him alone down there, though, he’ll drink all our reserve.”

OOC:

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Over to you guys. Make your plans, conduct any further interrogations, go to sleep: the inn’s your own.

[-Sentinel-]

At the manor

Before the villagers scattered, Pieter raised his voice: "Oh, and I'm afraid we have two more bodies to bury. Mother Yilese and the big simpleton." He drew closer to Ribault in case some vengeful villagers tried to take their anger out on the prisoner.

It was decidedly not the best day in Hohlesbruck's living memory.

“Send for me when he’s sleeping, will you? I hardly wish him well, but a crushing like this could have ruptured him on the inside. Hard to spot. I might have some things that would help.”

"Mmmm-hmm," said Pieter noncommittally. "Oh, while you're here... How's Alexa doing? We're all very worried."

At the inn

“Got the cellar,” said Mrs Hofstadter. “I ain’t leavin’ him alone down there, though, he’ll drink all our reserve.”

"He'd be less dangerous drunk than sober," Pieter pointed out. "You know, I'm almost tempted to pay him a whole bottle of wine and force him to drink it. Still... you're right, he needs to be guarded." He turned to his friends. "Who's up for the first watch? I can take the middle one, but right now I have to look at Illiiya's injuries."

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae: At the manor

I... am all right Pieter. Illiiya said with a weary sigh, It was humiliating enough to do... a bad fall, but I am bruised, not broken. I am sure you would prefer to rest... or just keep watch on our new friend.

Illiiya looked to Lothar and for a moment as if she sought to say something, then mentally aborted her words and replaced them with others.

Lothar... will you be keeping a watch on the prisoner? I do not trust most of the other people here. That man is a killer, and dangerous. There has been too much magic about for me to feel... safe.

OOC:

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Even if another plan is made, Illiiya will likely be happy with it as long as SOMEONE is watching the man. I'm ok with her heading off to rest unless something else important comes up that needs dealing with or personal input. Whatever plan the group comes up with is ok... she just wants to know the plan.

[Exeson]

Ithelus sits down momentarily, then cautiously gets up. 'Lothar, a word?'

Outside

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Ithelus looks around for any evesdroppers, 'You know, the reason why i brought the doctor was to get his dwellings empty, but the damn butcher and his wife wouldn't leave.' He looks sideways, 'Given what we already know, and how the Breton reacted tonight do you think it is worth me risking it anyway? Just to have a poke around, honest.'

[LCP]

(Timesplit) At the Manor

Before the villagers scattered, Pieter raised his voice: "Oh, and I'm afraid we have two more bodies to bury. Mother Yilese and the big simpleton." He drew closer to Ribault in case some vengeful villagers tried to take their anger out on the prisoner.

There was a swell of anger at Pieter's words. Sigurd and Leopold had to beat a hasty retreat with their prisoner as the resistance of the crowd stiffened.

"Mmmm-hmm," said Pieter noncommittally. "Oh, while you're here... How's Alexa doing? We're all very worried."

"Still laid up with fever, I'm afraid," replied the doctor. "Safe, I hope, for now. We must only hope she has not become contagious."

[-Sentinel-]

"Still laid up with fever, I'm afraid," replied the doctor. "Safe, I hope, for now. We must only hope she has not become contagious."

"Contagious? Really?" Pieter frowned. "Very strange. Quite sudden, wasn't it? Do you have a name for it?"

I... am all right Pieter. Illiiya said with a weary sigh, It was humiliating enough to do... a bad fall, but I am bruised, not broken. I am sure you would prefer to rest... or just keep watch on our new friend.

"I insist, Illiiya. We want to make sure you're alright. It won't take long." The initiate's look was grave. "And there's... something I must tell you about."

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

Very well Pieter. So long as someone is staying to watch him. I fear for the results if it is any but one of us. I... I do not know who here we can really trust.

Her voice was uncertian, tinged with... fear? It had been some time since she had sounded like the woman she once was back in Delberz, but for a moment at least, she had the tone of someone who wished nothing more than for someone to make the worries and fears haunting her to go away.

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In short, aye. She'll slip off and let Pieter treat her and hear what he has to say. She's grown pretty fond of Pieter of late, actually. He tends to be more sensible than she is.

[LCP]

(Timesplit) At The Manor

"Contagious? Really?" Pieter frowned. "Very strange. Quite sudden, wasn't it? Do you have a name for it?"

"Oh, several. I only wish I were nearer a library, Mr Hagen, then I might pick one for sure." He gave a quick, brittle smile. "Still, a fever is a fever. The treatment for one is very like another."

He glanced back at the door. "And now I must see to the boy. Goodbye, Mr Hagen."

[-Sentinel-]

At the manor

A fever is a fever? I've never seen one strike quite so quickly.

"Goodbye, doctor."

At the inn

"Lothar, if you don't want the first watch, you might be able to help me. Broken bones are not my specialty."


OOC:

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Post heavily edited. I'm keeping the Heal test, obviously.

Heal 57: (d100)[94]
Wounds healed: (d10)[3]

OOC: In short, aye. She'll slip off and let Pieter treat her and hear what he has to say. She's grown pretty fond of Pieter of late, actually. He tends to be more sensible than she is.

Pieter's fond of Illiiya as well . She's like the little sister he never had. (Actually, he has several half-sisters in Nuln, but he's never really been close to any of them.)

[Another_Poet]

Master Sigurd Waite

At the Manor

"Oh, and I'm afraid we have two more bodies to bury. Mother Yilese and the big simpleton."

"If she's decided to lie back down," Sigurd mutters, but he keeps his voice low - telling the villagers about the spectre sounds like a job for morning-time.


At the Inn

"Who's up for the first watch? I can take the middle one, but right now I have to look at Illiiya's injuries."

Sigurd looks at his dog. "I can offer Indigo to help, once she's been fed."

The scholar has no interest in standing watch himself, however, and approaches Mrs. Hofstadter wearily. "Madame, it's hardly urgent, but we'll all of us need to eat at some point. If you could put something on, we've had a simply withering day."

((Note: I'm assuming either Lothar or Ithelus take the prisoner to the cellar, since Pieter and Illiiya run off upstairs...))

"Lothar, if you don't want the first watch, you might be able to help me. Broken bones are not my specialty."

Sigurd leans close to Pieter, Illiiya and Lothar. He says quietly: "There's something I should tell you..." and makes as if to come upstairs with Pieter & co.

[-Sentinel-]

(Before entering Illiiya's room)

Sigurd leans close to Pieter, Illiiya and Lothar. He says quietly: "There's something I should tell you..." and makes as if to come upstairs with Pieter & co.

Pieter deliberately ignored the merchant until they reached the top of the stairs.

"What is it?" he said, rather more brusquely than he had intended.

[Another_Poet]

Master Sigurd Waite

Top of the Stairs

"What is it?"

Sigurd falters, looking--hurt?--by Pieter's abrupt manner. He glances nervously back down the stairs as if people might be listening, then shakes his head.

"Beg your pardon. Did you want to treat your friend in private? I can wait..."

If rebuffed:

He makes his way down to the great room, where he sits at long last. He'll accept ale if there is any, though he barely sips it; he starts to write his thoughts on the day in one of the various journals he keeps in his satchel.

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

What is it Mr. Sigurd? Illiiya asked, with considerably less irritation than Pieter.

Sigurd seemed more than a bit reckless to her, but she'd not particularly disagreed with him about the tree and was more than willing to hear him out. At the very least, it might make things seem clearer to her if he had some additional piece of information.

...you may as well come along, so we may speak in private. She told him after a moment. It's best if we all share information at this point, yes? Perhaps we should gather Ith as well? Lothar is staying to guard the breton, yes?

[Another_Poet]

Master Sigurd Waite

Sigurd seems comforted by Illiiya's invitation. He respects both Hagen and herself, but for very different reasons; of the two, Illiiya comes across as more trustworthy.

He bows his head slightly. "I can fetch Master Ithelus if you like. Your wounds need tending, after all..."

He claps his hand against his thigh a few times. Indigo, waiting at the bottom of the stairs, lopes up to her master. "Go with the nice people, Indi. Go on. I'll be back."

He points down the hall toward wherever Pieter and Illiiya are going. Indigo looks at her master and he repeats the pointing gesture a few times before she figures out to go in that direction with the others.

Sigurd heads down and seeks out Ithelus to ask him to join them upstairs.

((This ought to give you time to have your secret conversation, if you like; I'm willing to wait to come knocking till you tell us it's over, just to make things easier, if it's OK with Exeson and LCP.))

[LCP]

Lothar... will you be keeping a watch on the prisoner? I do not trust most of the other people here. That man is a killer, and dangerous. There has been too much magic about for me to feel... safe.

"Aye, s'pose I can take first shift on watching him," said Lothar, as reassuringly as he could. "Ain't volunteerin' for the whole night, though," he added, casting significant glances at Pieter and Leopold.

Taking up Ribault's arm as Sigurd let it go, he hefted the bulk of the Breton's weight over his shoulder.

"Come on, Mr Frog. Got you some nice cellar steps to fall down."

"Madame, it's hardly urgent, but we'll all of us need to eat at some point. If you could put something on, we've had a simply withering day."

"Aye, well, you ain't the only ones," said Mrs Hofstadter. She gave a tired wave of her hand. "I can get you some bread and a bit of cheese from the kitchen, sir. That'd best be alright, 'cos it's all there is."

[Another_Poet]

Master Sigurd Waite

Sigurd accepts Hofstadter's meager offer. While she heads into the kitchen to get it together, he goes in search of Ithelus.

((Just fetching Ith to give Pieter/Illiiya time for their secret stuff. I have nothing further to add until ith and Sigurd are added to Pieter & Illiiya's scene.))

[-Sentinel-]

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Y'know what, considering the last developments, I'll remove the secret conversation with Illiiya. Instead, Pieter will speak openly with everyone who follows them to the room, Sigurd included.

There was little Pieter could do about Illiiya's bruises, but at least he was pretty sure she had nothing broken: she only slightly winced when he poked at her ribs. He decided, after all, to wait for Mr Waite before he talked again; he might have some of the answers he needed.

((Once everyone is here except Lothar))

Pieter closed the door and spoke in a low voice. "Allow me to speak first, Mr Waite. I've got my own ideas about the... ghost... of Mother Yilese, and I believe you can shed some light." His eyes narrowed. "If it was an illusion, as Illiiya says, it was a pretty good one, down to her head wound. I know little about magic, but it seems to me that the unknown wizard must have seen Yilese's body with his own eyes. As far as we know, seven people did, including Ribault, my friends and I. And I'm pretty positive Ithelus and Lothar aren't wizards." He paused to let everyone catch up with his reasoning. "The remaining two are Leopold and you. And neither of you was anywhere to be seen during the fight."

[Another_Poet]

A Mortified and Appalled Master Sigurd Waite

Once in the private room, Sigurd takes a seat on the trunk at the end of the bed. It isn't quite the right height for a chair--the merchant looks awkward and uncomfortable perched there, leaning forward like a school boy at his copying.

Indigo wraps her paws under her snout in a lazy pile below the window. Her tail thumps in boredom from time to time.

Once Ithelus closes the door, Sigurd looks about at those assembled and prepares to speak.

"I--"

"Allow me to speak first, Mr Waite. I've got my own ideas about the... ghost... of Mother Yilese, and I believe you can shed some light."

Sigurd tilts his head with an interested look, but Pieter's eyes narrow.

"If it was an illusion, as Illiiya says, it was a pretty good one, down to her head wound. I know little about magic, but it seems to me that the unknown wizard must have seen Yilese's body with his own eyes. As far as we know, seven people did, including Ribault, my friends and I. And I'm pretty positive Ithelus and Lothar aren't wizards."

Sigurd waits, not fully connecting the dots.

"The remaining two are Leopold and you. And neither of you was anywhere to be seen during the fight."

Sigurd blinks. It takes him a second to realize the implication.

Suddenly he stiffens, sitting as upright now as the self-same schoolboy after a good knuckle-rapping from his instructor.

"Are you suggesting I'm raising the dead, Mister Hagen?" He drives his cane against the floor as if to stand up and leave, then thinks the better of it, sitting erect again. He looks completely at a loss for how to respond.

"I--you--witchcraft?!"

Sigurd looks around at the others, peering at their faces to see if they intend immediate harm. One hand is tight on the owl that tops his cane; the other clutches the canvas of his satchel like an injured soldier clinging to a friend's jacket.

He hasn't given any explicit order to Indigo, but her master's posture and tone seem to have alarmed her. She raises her head from her paws and pauses her tail mid-thump.

[LCP]

"The remaining two are Leopold and you. And neither of you was anywhere to be seen during the fight."

Leopold's increasingly confused frown broke into a scowl.

"Yes I bloody well was!" he snapped, angrily. "I was up the damn tower with you, until you went jumping out of the window."

He looked over his shoulder. "Mr Fischer will tell you, I didn't leave Esther's room until his Lordship arrived."

"Are you suggesting I'm raising the dead, Mister Hagen?" He drives his cane against the floor as if to stand up and leave, then thinks the better of it, sitting erect again. He looks completely at a loss for how to respond.

"I--you--witchcraft?!"

There was something rather stilted about Sigurd's words. He seemed to think too hard about each little motion and cadence before he actually spoke.

[-Sentinel-]

"Yes I bloody well was!" he snapped, angrily. "I was up the damn tower with you, until you went jumping out of the window."

"Didn't say you weren't there," said Pieter apologetically. "Only that I didn't see you."

"Are you suggesting I'm raising the dead, Mister Hagen?"

"I--you--witchcraft?!"

A flicker of annoyance flashed across Pieter's eyes. "I'm not talking about a gods-damned ghost, I'm talking about an illusion. If you're trying to play the idiot, Mr Waite, you're overdoing it."

"Understand that I'm not trying to burn anyone at the stake... only to figure out what's going on, because I'm pretty sure we're all confused right now. If we've got another wizard on our side, we need to know it."

[goblinpaladin]

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Well, LCP's rendition of Lothar responding to the request to watch the prisoner was right on the money, so we're doing that.

Outside

'Lothar, a word?'

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Ithelus looks around for any evesdroppers, 'You know, the reason why i brought the doctor was to get his dwellings empty, but the damn butcher and his wife wouldn't leave.' He looks sideways, 'Given what we already know, and how the Breton reacted tonight do you think it is worth me risking it anyway? Just to have a poke around, honest.'

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Lothar nodded to the elf, a half-grin on his face. "There's somethin' funny goin' about, and I don't for a minute reckon that Herr Frog's friends are just out in the woods. He needed someone in town who could let 'im know about shipments- and about the lord's daughter."

The soldier pulled on his beard. "You're the man -er, elf- for that kind o' thing. I say do it.

Down with Herr Frog

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Lothar slung the prisoner from his shoulder, resting him against a wall, all gentle-like. The knocks on the head, those were total accidents. Honest. Look at that bluff, honest face, scarred by war and marred by mutants. Couldn't never tell a lie, that face.

"So, Mister Ribault," the soldier grinned, pronouncing the 't' hard. "You've heard somethin' funny about Miss Lady, eh? Told your friends alllll about it, I hear. How about you an' me, we have a little chat?"

He cracked his knuckles.

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Intimidate: (1d100)[6] - against Fel 34, that's two whatever of sucess.

[Another_Poet]

OOC to all:

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Wait, Leopold is here?

...you may as well come along, so we may speak in private.

"I can fetch Master Ithelus if you like."

((Just fetching Ith ...))

Sigurd leans close to Pieter, Illiiya and Lothar. He says quietly: "There's something I should tell you..."

I didn't think Leopold was ever given an invite. Although:

[QUOTE=-Sentinel-;12160390]

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Pieter will speak openly with everyone who follows them to the room...

...so I guess it's not unpossible, I'm just surprised as he was neither invited nor mentioned till now.

Master Sigurd Waite

Sigurd pouts for a moment. Then his hand reaches into his satchel. He could be grabbing for a knife, but something on his face indicates it isn't so.

The man isn't happy, but he rather respects Pieter - not just for his guesswork, but for his tact. I suppose I have a chance to earn some trust, he reasons.

From the satchel Sigurd produces a heavy vellum scroll. He leaves it completely rolled up but the ends of ribbons can be seen sticking out of it. This he hands to Pieter, leaning ever so cautiously forward to deliver it; then Sigurd sits back, wordless.

Contents of the Scroll Should You Choose to Open It:

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Explosive Runes!

Jus' kiddin.

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Two documents are rolled together, both official-looking and crowded with bossed seals. The first is a diploma from the College of the Grey Order of Wizards in Altdorf. It certifies one Sigurd Waite of Marienburg as a graduate of the college, and bestows on him the title of Journeyman Wizard.

The second document is a license that reads like a letter of authorization, warning the reader that Sigurd Waite is sanctioned to use magic by the authority of the Princes of the Reikland and the Church of Sigmar, and is not to be hindered in its practise, subject to his abiding by the Imperial Articles of Magic at all times. It identifies him as a servant of the Imperial Crown, and includes a copy of the Articles in a cramped, legalistic hand.

The documents bear two large, ornate seals: that of the Grey College, a downward-pointing arrow flanked by a pair of ravens grasping swords, and the twin-tailed comet of the Church of Sigmar. They are signed by one "Master Magister Lorentz" and one "Deacon Hildebrand" of the Great Temple of Altdorf.

Sigurd waits until Pieter looks up from the document and says, "I'd rather say nothing of this to anyone. Life is much easier when people think such things are far away from them. I'm just a merchant, and the apparition the other night may as well have been a trick of Ribault's."

He waits calmly to see if this is acceptable.

[LCP]

Lothar

Ribault grunted in pain as Lothar dropped him hard against the cellar wall. Picking himself gingerly up off the ground, he lifted his eyes to his gaoler.

"How about you an' me, we have a little chat?"

"Mais certainement, monsieur," said Ribault, quietly. He shifted a little to a slightly less painful position. Lothar felt he was doing fairly well at being frightening - but Ribault seemed almost completely unconcerned.

"Tell me, monsieur... Fischer, non? What is the largest amount of money you have ever touched?"

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter took one long look at the scroll and let out a whistle. His mind struggled to understand the implications of the wizard's presence here, and more than a hundred questions leaped to his mind... but Mr Waite had already said a lot, possibly too much.

Sigurd waits until Pieter looks up from the document and says, "I'd rather say nothing of this to anyone. Life is much easier when people think such things are far away from them. I'm just a merchant, and the apparition the other night may as well have been a trick of Ribault's."

"Your secret's safe from the villagers, but I'm afraid Lothar and Ithelus will have to know. As for the apparition... we're the only ones who saw it, I believe, and it's just as well. No one else needs to know about it."

"Since it's time for confessions," Pieter went on, rolling the scroll and handing it back to the Grey Wizard, "I might as well admit I've never been a healer in the Reikland army. I'm from actually from Nuln, not Altdorf, and I serve the Cult of the Trickster as an initiate." He pulled his magpie pendant out of his shirt for all to see. "So, Mr Waite... what were you going to tell us?"


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About Leopold: I wasn't expecting him to follow us to the room either, but I don't mind all that much. I'm sure he's on our side and can keep a secret. But if Mr Waite wants Leopold out, Pieter will not argue.

[Another_Poet]

Master Sigurd Waite

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I don't object to Leopold at this point; you all would have allowed him in to start with, and Sigurd didn't throw him out before showing the scroll, so.... I guess he's in.

"Your compatriots have proved trustworthy so far," he says, "as long as Ithelus and Lothar are the only ones you tell, I have no objection."

He stares hard at Leopold. "That goes for you as well. I particularly don't want your family to know. No offense meant, of course."

When Pieter pulls out his pendant, Sigurd nods thoughtfully. "I've had many occasions to address your god on my travels," he says. "He's a fine chap if I say so myself."

"So, Mr Waite... what were you going to tell us?"

"Aha! Yes, of course. Well, I've told you before that I followed the doctor to..." he looks at Leopold thoughtfully, and then decides to address the young man instead. "Mister Faulebrand, I'm afraid I suspect foul play in your sister's illness. I sat beside the doctor at the wedding feast, and he had a small phial in his hand just before she took ill. You'll recall he sat beside her. But that could mean anything, so that night I followed him. He made a clandestine trip to the manor house, where he held a brief conversation with someone at the back gate. Then he returned to his residence. To me, it smacks of being paid to poison your sister."

He lets that sink in and then turns back to Pieter et al. "You've heard that part of the story. What I didn't mention is that I also saw the Bretonnian that night. He too tailed the doctor, and he hid in the woods during the secret rendezvous. I didn't mention it earlier, out of some misplaced sense of honor among eavesdroppers. But now it leads me to believe they may be uneasy partners. The doctor may try to silence Ribault if given the chance."

[goblinpaladin]

Lothar the Intimidating

"Tell me, monsieur... Fischer, non? What is the largest amount of money you have ever touched?"

Lothar tugged on his beard, frowning to himself. "Probably a couple hundred Karls, after some mercenaries I was runnin' with, we murdered a sorcerer and blew up his temple." He grinned.

"Somethin' out of an Altdorf play, that was. What've you got? 'Bout the same, for scarin' some blue-blooded girl into confessin' she got lubed up over some wannabe with pistols? Why don' you tell me all about that?"

[LCP]

Lothar

Grinning briefly back, the Bretonnian shuffled his back a little straighter against the cellar wall.

“I thought that as soon as I saw you, m’sieur. Monsieur Faulebrand found himself quite the wagon guards, yes?”

“What do you owe these people, monsieur Fischer? The jumped-up Faulebrands and the precious Verlorens, sticking their noses up in the air so they can pretend they are not drowning. Their grand house is falling to pieces around their ears, but Lord Verloren is too proud to sell his paintings.” The captive ran an assessor’s eye over Lothar’s face. “Monsieur Faulebrand would be glad to see the back of you, oui, and his son. He has a new son now, with the blue blood as he always desired.”

“Five hundred crowns. Free me, and it is yours. The villagers know us now, we will prey on the road no longer. We will take our share of the money and go.” His eyes remained fixed on Lothar’s, carefully sizing up the Nordlander’s reaction. “Do not tell me you have never been on the wrong side of the law, m’sieur.”

---

1

Pieter, Illiiya, Sigurd & Leopold

Leopold listened with an increasingly lost expression. Waiting until Sigurd had finished speaking, he shook his head.

“I wanted... I haven’t liked Doctor Reifennen from the moment I got here,” he said. “I didn’t trust the way he was keeping Alexa locked away from the rest of us. But I don’t think I’ve been... thinking very straight, up until now.”

“I’ve never seen the doctor before in my life. Who’d pay him to hurt Alexa?” Leopold looked to the others in appeal. “He’s come from outside the village, he might just have been given a letter to carry.”

There was a difficult pause.

“Esther told us what the Bretonnian came for – me and, um, Mr Fischer. But she told us in confidence. If it got out, her life would be ruined.” Leopold looked around the others in the room. “She trusted Mr Fischer and me because she had to. Can I trust you?”

[Another_Poet]

Master Sigurd Waite

“She trusted Mr Fischer and me because she had to. Can I trust you?”

Still in the act of returning his scroll to its case in the satchel, Sigurd cannot help but to start laughing a deep, belly laugh at the absurdity of the question.