Doktor Hartlieb Schneider tends to the ailments of the wealthy townsfolk at his offices off the market square, for the steep fee of twenty silver. Bouyant grey hair cascades down his shoulders and he sneers down an aquiline nose at anyone below his station.

"Oh absolutely, I can take five silver now and fifteen later... I'll simply cut out one quarter of the bullet and come back for the rest in a fortnight, you blathering idiot... twenty or go get butchered by that bitch Hildette."