“You have no right to hold us!” Emmaline blustered as the guards seized her. Vandershute made a show of examining his fingernails before responding in a bored tone.
 
“Rights? What rights do you think you have frauline… did we get your name?” he enquired, the politeness of his words and face clashing with the wild light in his eyes. It was as though the eyes of a Sigmarite zealot had somehow been transplanted into a marble statue. The effect was very off putting.

“I am Emmaline Von Morganstern, and I am a citizen of Reikland,” she told him sharply, seeing no particular reason to lie. When she used the term ‘Von’ the grip of the guards relaxed marginally and something in Vandershute’s expression sharpened. Von was a title that at least hinted at nobility, though its derivation was that of a previous age and in many cases, such as Emmaline’s own, the title was much diluted. Emmaline’s mother had been a seamstress and her father was anyone’s guess but she highly doubted whoever it was had been of the noble classes.
 
“Well Frauline Von Morganstern, Riekland is a very long way from here and I would prefer that you and your… foreign friend, not wander off before morning. We don’t want to miss the chance to fix the location of the first beastmen to have troubled this region in almost six months.”
 
Emmaline had no idea what game the sheriff thought he was playing. She doubted that the statement ‘there are no beastmen within 100 miles’ could have been uttered from the Cathedral of Sigmar in Altdorf and been truthful. Whatever his motivations though, she was certain that she didn’t want to be caught up in it.
 
“We merely wish to return to our rooms, we will give you our word not to attempt to leave town and…” she cast a side long glance at the guards.

“I’m certain you can post men to watch if you doubt our word.”