[WFRP] The Bloody Crown XIII

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard stared hard at Elsa for a moment. "No. I haven't seen his statue yet." He said, his tone frigid. "I think I'll go have a look right now." Without another word, he turned and left.

[-Sentinel-]

"Thank you for everything you and your order do, Ioana," said Elsa.

She sat down by Tatiana's side and let her apprentice hold Khalida to keep her company. "Putbad should be better for both of us, Tattie," she said. "You'll see. It's a magnificent city with a huge waterfall. It's safe; no battle's been fought there in a very long time. It's far from the pyramid, and far from the principessa. And Lady Groz is a delightful person."

[RossN]

Jarla

Jarla glanced at Sieghard go, then cleared her throat. Truthfully she felt a bit out of her depth with all the supernatural talk - she had no doubt Elsa was on to something but the others seemed to have far more experience that she did.

"I suspect I'm stuck at court for now, though I may be able to arrange an escape or two at some point - I would like to see Putbad and also visit Giovanni at some point. Anyway I've been thinking we need to stay in better communication if we are to be far flung. I don't suppose anyone knows any pigeon breeders nearby?"

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

It's ugly, Sieghard thought as he stared at the statue. The sculptor had gotten that much right, even if everything else was wrong. The prince was was just as unpleasant in bronze as he was in the flesh. He hatred the thing, yet found himself unable to stop looking at it and most insulting at all was how little he was surprised that Sforza would do something like this. He could've handled not being thanked. Killing Nahorek was as much personal as it was for anyone else and glory had never been a factor in it. It had hurt when Sforza had stolen his spear as he was lying half-dead after the battle, but even that he could've begrudgingly lived with. Not this. The statue was too personal an insult and too great a wound to his pride.

He needed a drink.

[LeSwordfish]

Jarla

Jarla glanced at Sieghard go, then cleared her throat. Truthfully she felt a bit out of her depth with all the supernatural talk - she had no doubt Elsa was on to something but the others seemed to have far more experience that she did.

"I suspect I'm stuck at court for now, though I may be able to arrange an escape or two at some point - I would like to see Putbad and also visit Giovanni at some point. Anyway I've been thinking we need to stay in better communication if we are to be far flung. I don't suppose anyone knows any pigeon breeders nearby?"

"There were pigeons in the tower in Caerfort," Ludo suggested. "Though I don't know if they'll still be there now, it must have been a while since someone was feeding them."

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa returned to Hieronymus's house shortly after sunset and brought him a bottle of some very fine red as a thank-you gift for his hospitality. She also had a brass cane now that seemed to have enough heft to it to snap bones.

"According to Meskhenet, Savonne used to be a Nehekharan city," she said, sitting down. "You must be well versed in local history... What do you think are the oldest parts of the city, apart from the Dwimmulhold? Before I head to Putbad, I'll see if I can't get us some more writings to study."

[LeSwordfish]

At The Hospital
"I know Roth and his men are there," Ludo said. "Nobody I trust more outside Painford."

He had no real idea how to talk to Tatiana. By some mercy, none of the Thorns under his command had been maimed in such a grisly way.

At Hieronymous'
Ludo greeted Hieronymous warmly, and asked after how well the old priest was recovering from his injuries.

"What do you think of Frau Holt's news from the west?" he asked. "Have there been any... signs or portents that your people have detected?"

[LCP]

The Hospital

Tattie didn't quite seem to know what to make of all the attention - she had never been one to enjoy being crowded . Sitting in the edge of the bed with the air of someone eager to get away, but too polite to get up and leave, she nodded absently at the mention of Putbad.

"More travelling, then," she said. "Can we bring the horses this time?"

Hieronymus'

Hieronymus accepted Elsa's thank-you gift with great courtesy, and seemed pleased to see Ludo again.

"I thought we'd discussed that before," was his response to Elsa's question, his tone carrying just a faint trace of impatience. "The Old Town is what its name implies; I believe the Temple and the buildings around it may be the oldest." He paused. "But why barring the Dwimmulhold? The records your friend Jotunnsson unearthed must surely go back that far."

To Ludo's question he shook his head. "Nothing hear to give cause for alarm," he said, "unless you count the Prince himself asking us to pray for rain. And of course - " - he checked himself - " - no, but those are private matters." He cleared his throat. "Magister Holt's news is very concerning, of course. You are certain that Nakht-Horeb was killed?"

[-Sentinel-]

The hospital

"More travelling, then. Can we bring the horses this time?"

"Of course we will," Elsa assured Tatiana. "And there are grasslands to ride in."

---

Hieronymus'

"But why barring the Dwimmulhold? The records your friend Jotunnsson unearthed must surely go back that far."

"I suppose I could ask him," mused Elsa, though the dwarfs struck her as rather disinclined to share their knowledge.


"You are certain that Nakht-Horeb was killed?"

"We didn't find his body afterwards," admitted Elsa. "I just assumed it had turned to dust. And perhaps it did. But if so, it wasn't enough to send his soul to Morr's Realm."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard had spent the next few days mostly keeping to himself and avoiding crossing paths with anyone in the city who knew him aside from those who had seen him already. On Wellentag, he paid another visit to the hospital with a basket of pastries as an apology to Tatiana for leaving so abruptly the day before. The rest of the day he spent gathering supplies - an idea has been brewing in his head, brought on by the festering resentment he had for Sforza's statue. Every time he passed it or saw it out of the corner of his eye, while moving from merchant to merchant, the idea solidified further until he knew exactly what he wanted to do. By the end of the day, he had what he needed paint in both red and white (pink would've been too unusual and too easy to trace back to the buyer, so he'd mix the two himself), a brush, and incase he needed it, a small jar of oil.

In the last predawn hours of Marktag, he made his move. He crept from the inn where he had rented a private room and made his way to the center of the market. He dressed plainly and kept his cloak around him with his hood up. Cold as the morning was, there was nothing unusual about it and the few drunks he passed along the way paid him no heed. He glanced around before starting his work. No watchmen, at least that he could see. Confident that this was as good a chance that he was going to get, he dipped his brush into the paint and got to work. A whispered warning Al-Makir had given him so long ago echoed in his mind as he painted.

By all the gods, be careful with the pig jokes, my friend!

Sieghard lingered only a moment to admire his handiwork. It was a quick thing and no great work of art, but he felt a certain smug satisfaction with the improvements he had made. Content with what he had done, he took a couple steps back and hurled what was left of his paint at a bare spot on the statue where it wasn't likely to drip over what he had already painted.

Spoiler: Sieghard's handiwork

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[RossN]

Jarla

As the group seemed ready to break up Jarla took Elsa aside for the moment. "Will you take a letter from me to Lady Groz when you see her next? I met her very briefly but I didn't really get to know her well." Jarla's large grey blue eyes twinkled in amusement. "Maybe she needs a noblewoman who can fence, dance and play cards."

For the next few days Jarla spent her free time practicing with her new blades, and discretely tutoring Elsa if possible. With her position at court seemingly slightly more secure she was coming back around to the idea of starting her fencing school. Even without Irene Jarla hoped she could gain a little interest.

She also smuggled a few treats and a bottle of ale from the keep cellars on a visit to see Tattie at the Hospital. She was very fond of the girl and it broke her heart to see her like this, but she tried to keep the conversation light and easy.

[LeSwordfish]

Hieronymous's House
"After everything we've been through, I hope you know you can trust us," Ludo said, affecting a slightly hurt tone. "I'm sure if it was important to the safety of the reaches, you'd share it with those who needed to know?"

OOC

Spoiler

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Charm vs 92: (1d100)[87], mostly trying to confirm that whatever this is couldn't be Nahorek-related.

"We know the spear was enchanted specifically to kill him, and the commander drove it through his face. It was like he exploded, or was completely destroyed. That was what they did to kill him before. I would have thought... Klammenberg had to do so much to bring him back before. Could Mala really have done that?"

"Relatedly, how is Meskhenet? Where is she living, um, staying now?"

[-Sentinel-]

"Will you take a letter from me to Lady Groz when you see her next? I met her very briefly but I didn't really get to know her well. Maybe she needs a noblewoman who can fence, dance and play cards."

"I can certainly do that," said Elsa, a tad surprised, "but don't you have official responsibilities here?"

"I've something else to ask in return. I'm going to move Tattie to the castle; can't have her take up a hospital bed for no reason. I want it to be a fait accompli by the time Irene learns of it, so that she can't have you make up an excuse about 'no more room'. It's only for a few days. And she doesn't need much space."

Spoiler

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Elsa will want training from Jarla, but I'll wait a bit before I describe Elsa's next few days. I want to see how the Ludo-Hieronymus situation plays out.

---

"After everything we've been through, I hope you know you can trust us," Ludo said to Hieronymus. "I'm sure if it was important to the safety of the reaches, you'd share it with those who needed to know?"

Elsa threw the halfling a quizzical look. What was going on here? What did he think the priest was hiding? Her gaze then settled suspiciously on the old man.

[RossN]

Jarla

Jarla's copper eyebrows rose at Elsa's request. "You don't ask much do you? Well I'll see what I can do. If anyone asks I'll say Countess is ailing and I wanted to talk to a girl who knows animals."

Going to greet Tattie again she smiled at the girl. "Fancy sharing my quarters for a while Tattie? I have a maid about your age so you'll have someone to talk to while I'm off entertaining the princess."

[LCP]

15th Jahrdrung

The Great Hospital

The flash of fear on Tattie’s face when Jarla mentioned the princess was impossible for her to hide.

“I… I can go wherever there’s room,” she said - that seemed to be the sum total of enthusiasm she could muster. “I don’t want to be taking up space here. I know they need it.”

Hieronymus’ House

"After everything we've been through, I hope you know you can trust us," Ludo said, affecting a slightly hurt tone. "I'm sure if it was important to the safety of the reaches, you'd share it with those who needed to know?"

“Oh, it’s - nothing like that,” said Hieronymus, shaking his head. “Just my mind wandering. It’s been doing that a lot lately.” He sounded tired. “Believe me, Herr Stubbs, if I thought it had anything to do with the Jackal, I would tell you.”

"We know the spear was enchanted specifically to kill him, and the commander drove it through his face. It was like he exploded, or was completely destroyed. That was what they did to kill him before. I would have thought... Klammenberg had to do so much to bring him back before. Could Mala really have done that?"

Drawing up a chair, Hieronymus sank down into it, taking his time to consider Ludo’s words.

“I’ve not met this Mala,” he said, “but I understand that she was - is - from the village of Rivermouth?” He glanced to Elsa for confirmation. “For everything else he may have been, Herr Klammenberg seemed to me to be a very learned man. It’s difficult to believe that a woman from such a backwater could have come by the same knowledge so quickly… unless the vampire gave it to her. But then he would have had to have anticipated his own demise.”

He hesitated a moment more in thought. “You say the body was completely destroyed? It seems to me… that can’t have been how he was killed before. Or else what was it his killers sealed inside his tomb?”

"Relatedly, how is Meskhenet? Where is she living, um, staying now?"

Casting his eyes over his bookshelves, Hieronymus pointed with his withered hand at one of the very highest. Sitting there, half-trapped under the weight of a hefty tome, was the box Ludo had given the priestess’ skull to him in.

[LeSwordfish]

Hieronymous' House
Ludo accepted Hieronymous' words without comment. "Perhaps they sealed the dust inside the tomb. Or... could it have been symbolic? His... spirit, sort of?"

"Klammenberg likely wouldn't have told Mala the ritual, and Nahorek believed he was immortal. We never found out what his staff did, though."

[-Sentinel-]

"You say the body was completely destroyed? It seems to me… that can't have been how he was killed before. Or else what was it his killers sealed inside his tomb?"

"The thought's occurred to me," said Elsa.

She recalled something that she had not deemed terribly important at the time. "When we faced him outside Nath, his staff gave me an odd sense of someplace else. I don't know if it might have transported him elsewhere, either just before the blow struck or shortly after."

[LCP]

15th Jahrdrung

“When it comes the history of Nehekharan relics, I’m afraid I’m as much in the dark as you are,” said Hieronymus. “I thought that was what you dug up our friend in the box for. You haven’t asked her?”

---

18th Jahrdrung

North Market

By the time the first pale fingers of sunlight were stealing over the roofs of the city, Sieghard was already on his way back to the North Market. Amid the stalls and wagons of the early-morning traders, a good-sized knot of people had formed around the base of Sforza’s statue to appreciate his handiwork. Taking a seat on a barrel behind a fishmonger’s stall, Sieghard settled in to watch.

It wasn’t long before Norten and his men arrived on the scene, pushing their way through the growing crowd with shouts of “Make way!”. Reaching the foot of the dais on which the statue stood, Norten stood with his hands on his hips, staring down the jolly pig’s face that stared back at him. It seemed to take him some time to collect his thoughts.

“Alright!” he said at last, puffing up his chest and turning to the crowd. “Who’s the budding artist?” Silence reigned. “One of you must’ve seen. It’ll go easier if you ‘fess up.”

No-one stepped forward. “It was like that when I got here,” said one of the more helpful onlookers, and some of the others nodded. “Must’ve been there since before sunrise,” said another.

Muttering something under his breath, Norten turned back to the statue. “Alright!” he said again. “There’s nothing to see here! Wechsler, Guthmann, you’re on guard duty. Get this rabble on their way.” Catching the sergeant’s mood, the onlookers were already beginning to disperse, though probably only to gawp from a safer distance. “Krebs, Lankdorf, I want that cleaned off.”

“Cleaned off with what, sir?” asked one of the guards.

“Cleaned off with what, sir?” echoed Norten in a high-pitched voice. “I don’t know, find a brush or something! Ulric’s hoary balls, use your initiative.” Norten was clearly not feeling very calm. “Get it clean, and get it clean now, you understand me?”

With a hurried salute, the two men rushed away in search of a bucket and brush.

The Castle

Jarla had barely risen and dressed herself on Marktag morning when a knock came at her chamber door, summoning her to attend on the Sforzas. They were breakfasting together in the solar: the Prince looked up as Jarla was shown in.

“Schreiber,” he said. “Take a seat.” A good deal of food had been set out - certainly more than the royal couple could eat between the two of them, and the aroma was tantalising. Jarla wasn’t sure whether the Prince’s invitation extended to helping herself.

“I’m sending a summons to the guilders of Putbad,” Sforza began, “to come here and explain some of the tolls they’ve levying on grain shipments down the river. I wanted to talk to you about finding accommodation for them here.” He set down his fork and dabbed his moustaches with a napkin. “They won’t be here long, but I want them treated well. They’re useful people.”

The door opened again, and one of Irene’s maids came in, carrying a small basket of fresh pastries. Keeping her eyes cast down, she apologised profusely in Tilean, presumably for being late. Rather than dismissing her, Irene seemed to decide she was more interested in questioning her servant than in her husband’s plans with the guilders. Jarla could only understand about one word in seven, but she caught a few - la statua, trambusto, il mercato. The poor maidservant seemed to be growing more terrified by the moment, and Irene finished by asking her a question that seemed to paralyse her completely.

“Un por… p… è un p-p-porco,” she managed to stammer out at last. The easy flow of Irene’s questions stopped, and a heavy silence descended on the table.

With a loud, abrupt scrape, the Prince pushed back his chair. “Mi scusi,” he said, in a curiously flat tone of voice. “Lady Schreiber, I have matters to attend to. We will speak later about the guilders.”

Without another word, he turned and left.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard had to fight the temptation to laugh, but couldn't stop himself from smirking. Luckily, it seemed the crowd's attention was more focused on Prince Piggy than on the people around them. Making sure to keep near the back of the onlookers, Sieghard made himself comfortable.

[-Sentinel-]

"When it comes the history of Nehekharan relics, I'm afraid I'm as much in the dark as you are. I thought that was what you dug up our friend in the box for. You haven't asked her?"

Elsa raked her brain. "She said something about how it let him walk with one foot in the underworld. Whatever that means. So maybe he can retreat to the world of the dead whenever he feels he's at a disadvantage?"

[LeSwordfish]

"He has control over the souls of the departed..." Ludo said thoughtfully. "Does that include his own? Could he... have kept himself here?"

"Surely he would have done that last time?"

[LCP]

15th Jahrdrung

Hieronymus nodded. "Certainly, if this staff gave him the power to save himself from the spear, then I can't see why he wouldn't have done so."

Sitting back in his chair, he started fishing in his robes for a mouse to feed Euthymius, who was sitting contentedly on his perch. "Perhaps we should focus on what we do know. It seems to me," said the old priest, "that the facts as you've related them admit three general possibilities. One, that Nakht-Horeb did not die at Nath, but by some stratagem convinced you and the Prince that he had. Two, that he did die, and remains dead, and that the Magister's recent experiences are due to some…" he waved his good hand vaguely in the air "...let's call them lesser parties, such as this Mala, still trying to trade on his name. Three, that he died, but has returned."

At last he found the mouse, which Euthymius wolfed down with relish.

"Everything we have learned about his first return… the pyramid, the spear, Klammenberg's involvement… I would say all of that strongly suggests it was not easy. Otherwise the pyramid could hardly have held him for thousands of years. Of course, the story we have of his first defeat may be imperfect, or incomplete. But barring some revelation on that front, I find it hard to believe he could return from the grave so quickly, after having been struck down in the same way. Simplicity, then, would incline us towards either the first or the second explanation." He looked from Ludo to Elsa, studying their faces. "In either case, you and your friends may be the best witnesses there are. Only you can judge how likely it is you could have been deceived."

18th Jahrdrung

It took the guards some time to find their bucket and brush, and when they did, their scrubbing only succeeded at smearing the lines of Sieghard's masterpiece, rather than erasing them. They were still working at it when a troop of Iron Company men came marching down from the castle, armed and ready for trouble. With them came a figure on a familiar white horse. Riding up to the middle of the market, the Prince dismounted in front of the statue, surrounded by a ring of soldiers.

Norten had by this time made himself scarce, and so his subordinates were left to fend for themselves. They stood ramrod-straight, offering their liege lord their smartest salutes, and trying to stand in front of the offending artwork without making it too obvious that was what they were trying to do.

"Move aside," snapped the Prince, and reluctantly they did. He stared at the smeary face of the crowned pig in total silence. Sieghard saw his hand tighten into a fist

"Where is your commander?" he demanded. The guards looked to one another, none of them daring to speak first. "I want to know who did this. I want them found, I want them punished." Losing his patience with the mute halberdiers, his voice rose. "Do you understand?"

A chorus of 'yes your highness'es and a lot of very emphatic nodding didn't do much to brighten his mood. "Tell Norten I want the culprit brought to me by tomorrow morning. And get that filth cleaned off." Turning away, he seemed to see for the first time how large an audience the little drama around the statue had, almost every head in the marketplace looking their way. He didn't flinch from the attention of the crowd, but stared right back, his eyes searching their faces for guilt like a falcon's searching for prey.

OOC:

Spoiler

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Sforza rolls Perception at -20 to see if he can spot Sieghard among the onlookers. You can oppose with Concealment if you want Sieghard to hide.

Perception - (1d100)[22]

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard's first instinct upon Sforza's arrival was to try to slip away, but the crowd had grown too large for that to be easy. Instead, he moved deeper into the crowd and offered a silent prayer to Ranald that he'd blend in.

Spoiler

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That's a pretty good roll too... Well, may as well try.

Base test vs 29. I'll FP a +10 AND a second FP for a reroll if I need it.

(1d100)[1] vs 39
(1d100)[99]

[RossN]

18th Jahrdrung - Jarla

Jarla had been turning over what to say in her mind. She had a few ideas but she'd have to know more about the guests before pitching her plans. Not that she got the chance of course with that mysterious message and Sforza's departure.

She gave a mental shrug and began filling her plate, glancing at Irene. "My lady, forgive me if I overstep my bounds but what was that all about? Are we under attack?"

[-Sentinel-]

15th Jahrdrung

Elsa listened carefully to Father Hieronymus's theories, nodding along in agreement. It was hardly surprising that some of the best investigators were reputedly Verenans.

"That's a good summary," she allowed. "I'm inclined towards the first explanation, myself. The evidence I've seen makes me dubious about the second one, though not enough to discount it entirely."

A thought occurred to her. "He had a spell in place in his tower, when we went there after the fight. Some kind of complex binding spell that imprisoned a powerful spirit and gave him command of the ghosts of Nath. I wonder if his true destruction would have undone the spell. I'll need to do some reading about ritual magic."

---

16th Jahrdrung, morning

Early the next day, wearing her makeup to conceal her tattoos, Elsa visited Ludo at the inn where he was staying.

"What was that about, with Hieronymus?" she asked, after the halfling admitted her into his room. "When you implied he was hiding something."

---

16th Jahrdrung, afternoon

In the afternoon, carrying parchment and charcoal, Elsa asked—or rather demanded, as court wizard—permission to visit the basement of the temple in search of any Nehekharan-era writings that might still be etched on the building's oldest walls.

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Test to gain access to the temple. (I don't know if Command 44 applies here, but Elsa is being kind of pushy about it, like a tax auditor wanting to look at the temple's accounting.) (d100)[60]
Fortune: (d100)[72]

Returning to Hieronymus's house after sunset, Elsa plunged in her old books of magic to find out if ritual spells—other than enchantments and runes—tended to linger after the caster's demise or were supposed to dissipate.

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Academic Knowledge (Magic) 75: (d100)[23]
Fortune: (d100)[69]

---

17th Jahrdrung

Shortly after dawn, Elsa went to Jarla for combat training. They headed to the fallow fields outside the city walls to avoid being seen by the principessa and sparred for two hours almost without interruption until both were sweaty despite the cold. Per Elsa's request, they practiced mostly parries and dodges. Truth to be told, Elsa would rather have gone to Sieghard, but her lover was in a rather brooding mood ever since he had learned of Sforza claiming credit for destroying the Jackal himself. Plus, Elsa was still annoyed at Sieghard for his skepticism towards her claim of Nahorek's return.

That evening, not wishing to abuse Hieronymus's hospitality any longer, Elsa moved to the same inn where Ludo and Sieghard were staying, though she rented her own room with Olga.

---

18th Jahrdrung

The sun was high in the sky by the time Elsa made her way to the market with Olga in tow, more out of a desire to stretch her legs than a need to buy anything. Guards were still trying to erase the vandalism on the statue, and though they made an effort to conceal the painting with their own bodies while they worked, Elsa could just make out the face of a pig. She winced.

Oh please, Sieghard, tell me you didn't do this. You're not a fool. You know someone's going to pay for this.

[LCP]

18th Jahrdrung

The Castle

"No," said Irene, "nothing like that." She breathed a heavy sigh and rolled her eyes, settling them on Jarla. "Someone has painted a pig on Muzio's statue."

North Market

In his civilian clothes, Sieghard found little difficulty in blending into the crowd. Sforza's gaze passed over him without any flicker of recognition.

The Prince stood there a moment longer, reaching for something to do or say. He could hardly punish the entire marketplace. His unaccustomed powerlessness clearly didn't sit well with him.

"Fifty crowns!" he said at last, raising his voice so he could be heard by all. "Fifty crowns for the name of the one who did this." Swinging himself back into the saddle, he scanned the watching faces as his soldiers formed up around him, as if waiting for someone to shout it out. When no-one did, he turned his horse's head and rode back to the castle gates, his retinue clearing a wide path across the square.

As the crowds closed behind him, someone off to Sieghard's left made a quiet pig noise, to the stifled laughter of their friends.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Once Sforza had gone, Sieghard's smirk cracked into a full grin. The prince's reaction had been even funnier than he had hoped and he was feeling rather satisfied with the results of his art project. With little left to see in the market, he made his way back to the inn. Ludo had been asking about seeing the Prince and he had kept coming up with reasons to delay until now. Today, they'd pay him a visit at the castle, but Sieghard wanted to wait until after lunch. (He planned on having pork).

[LeSwordfish]

15th Jahrdrung

Ludo nodded along with Hieronymous. "He suspected we were going to betray him, that's why he wore armour. That might not have been the only countermeasure he took. On the other hand, he was mostly there in triumph, so maybe he hadn't."

"That girl was asking for permission to enter her own house before Mala had reached the desert, so if he's back, he was back then. But if he was back... was it him and Mala together, gathering wolves and raiding sheep? Does that not seem... beneath him? Mala worshipped him as a god, he thinks he's a god and a prince returned, right... she brings him back and he's back to preying on farm animals and children lost in the woods?"

15th Jahrdrung, Later
"You've spent much more time around him than I have, so you'd have spotted anything, but... is he acting oddly to you? Something about him felt off to me, back after he was injured. He was... he was strange, about Meskhenet. He didn't argue nearly as much as I expected. And... well..."

He didn't want to make the accusation out loud.

OOC

Spoiler

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To jog your memory, the specific post that I'm thinking of OOC but Ludo doesn't know about IC is this.

18th Jahrdrung
Ludo watched Sforza stride off, thought for a moment, and then shoved the three pages of handwritten notes back into his pocket.

"Not today, then," he said to himself.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

With Ludo no longer in any rush to visit the castle, Sieghard had no reason to hurry. Instead, he waited until the late afternoon, giving the prince a few hours to dwell on the painting.

"Prince Sforza, I'm pleased to report that recruitment and training are going well and that Painford is making good progress felling timber for the city," He said acting oblivious to Sforza's mood or the reason behind it. "Word's also reached Painford that you want to get the Downlands resettled and were looking for men who could work the land and tend the fields," he continued. "Early in the winter, I took in a group of refugees who had farms there before the war and put them to work. They've done well, but they but I know they'd prefer to return to their old way of life. If land could be put aside from them, I know they'd be grateful."

Elsa OOC stuff

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This bit might also be worth looking over again.

Aubentag, 9th Jahrdrung - Elsa

Elsa woke the next morning on Hieronymus’ settee, with the most tremendous crick in her neck. To her surprise, she found Hieronymus already awake and alert, reading through the notes she had given him the previous morning. Keen-eyed and already apparently ready to face the day, he presented quite a different aspect to the absent-minded old man who had let her in the previous evening.

“Good morning, Magister,” he said, glancing only briefly over his shoulder at Elsa as she hauled herself upright. “The privy’s in the back, should you need it. I would offer you a spare key for when I go out, but I’m afraid I don’t have one.” Up in the rafters, Euthymius was screeching at both of them as if they were intruders. “I’ll have to remedy that some time. In the meantime, I’m afraid you’ll have to stay either in or out between about noon and sundown. That’s when I’m wanted at the Temple.” Turning over a sheet of paper, he pointed to a word. “Your writing there, is that a ‘r’ or an ‘n’?”

[RossN]

Jarla - 17th Jahrdrung

Jarla was happy to train with Elsa, to test her new rapiers if nothing else. Surprisingly the wizardess was not terrible, even if she'd probably never give a true fencer any sleepless nights.

"Hold your guard like so," Jarla instructed, demonstrating with her own weapon. The copper haired highwaywoman grinned. "Not bad. You know I'm very jealous of your powers so I suppose it is only fair to teach you my skills. Next lesson: dancing, acting and cheating at cards."

Jarla - Castle, 18th Jahrdrung

"Ah...," Jarla said, nodding her head slowly, though the exact facts behind the reaction eluded her.

It was obviously insulting but she guessed there was more to it than that, some ancient canard or slur. She ate some of her breakfast and washed it down with water. "Well, I better have a look at the spare accommodations for our soon to be guests and what food we have available. Entertainment too I suppose, so I'll call on Jacques. My lady."