"On behalf of the Crown, I insist that you allow us in." "Oh, the Crown, isn't it?" Malle looks at the imperial summons you wave before her and laughs. "That piece of parchment might impress dukes and ladies, but all I see is a long golden collar with you on the end."
It's clear that you'll need to improve your approach if you want to convince these two. "Since we can't go inside, can we take a look outside?" you ask.
The two sentries exchange a look. "The Wood Guild is happy to bestow upon you the honor of investigating all the mud outside our tannery," says Malle, waving his arm with considerable extravagance.
Alice follows you around the side of the building, out of sight of the workers. She touches his shoulder. "You're going to try to break in, aren't you?"
You look at a boarded-up window situated at shoulder height. Alice sighs. You pull out one of the wooden slats; looks loose.
The first two boards come off easily, but the third requires more strength. You put all your strength into the task and feel it starting to give way. But as the two of you struggle to remove it, a piece of rotting window frame comes loose from the wall, sending both of you to the floor. The wooden board follows suit, tapping on top of the two previously removed slats. "Hi, what's all this noise back here?"
As you rise from the ground, you see one of the sentries walking towards you. "Duncan!" She screams. "Bring Alviva, those treacherous bastards were trying to invade."
Wait for the guild leader to arrive
You watch shadows creep across the wooden patio, cast by the afternoon clouds. Alice has managed to find common cause with her watchful sentinel, Malle, and is sharing remedies for digestive pain. "Meadowsweet. Anis, too, if you can get it," you hear her say.
As you allow their conversation to fade into the sounds of the river, you catch sight of Duncan's imposing form surrounding a pile of wood. Beside you, walking with a cane to support her stiff left leg, you see a thin woman with short dark hair. She wears the same simple clothes as the other workers, except for a red sash tied around her waist. Behind them, you see a familiar face. Tace, the fugitive held by Baron Morlond's soldiers on the outskirts of town. "Well, well," says the woman with the cane, "a pair of Crown Fleams, down here among the logs and the dirt."
Alice bristles at the term. "Don't call us that. Bleeding hasn't been a common treatment in years. I've never carried a flea." "Forgive me," says the woman with a hardened smile, "I remember when a visit from a mask meant the streets got slick and wet. It'll just be Mayor Blake bleeding us dry then."
Malle lets out a contemptuous laugh.
The tip of the cane hits the damp earth with a dull thud as its owner appraises him. "The tannery is closed," she says. "Quarantine has left most of the goats and cows outside the walls, and no animals means no fur. No fur, no work." She gestures to her colleagues. "These good guild members, people who sweated and worked and starved to build this city, have to humble themselves and lower themselves to pick up Sibyl Blake's crumbs. And now..." she looks you up and down " ...now, perhaps, the mayor's greed would see even this building under his control."
There are rumors of approval from Duncan and Malle. The woman in the red sash leans against a pile of wood and points the tip of her cane at you. "My name is Alviva Frithe, and I would love to know why you need to set foot in this tannery."