Verchiel steered the car down a series of side roads and stopped in front of a medium sized house. He climbed out, whistling to himself, then made a show of opening her door and escorting her across the snowy lawn.
Her eyes bounced warily from the dark windows to the many footprints in the snow. "Where are we?"
He didn't reply, only stopped before the front door and rapped on it loudly. When no one answered he called, "Open in the name of The Guild!"
Small sounds erupted on the other side of the door. It finally opened to reveal a pale slice of wary face. "What do you want?"
"Ah, hello," Verchiel said in his friendly, conversational tone, as if it were a routine social call. "Is your master around?"
"That depends," the face answered, the voice and features both distinctly unisex. "Wh
