[Suzerain of Sheol]

The crowd clears out, the nobles heading back for the charmed seclusion of their mansion while the townspeople depart to grimy market stalls and horse-pens.

Ulysses: Spot 1d20 + 1 = 8 vs. DC 13

As the gallows square empties out, the soldier becomes suddenly aware that Hadrian is striding straight toward him, the heels of his polished boots kicking up dirt with each step. He comes to a stop within striking distance of Ulysses, looking up the considerable difference in their height with violent, judging eyes.

"I don't recognize you. Foreigner?"

Ulysses meets the man's stare unphased, confident he could snap the miserable creature over his knee if it came to that. After a moment, "No, sir. I was born here many years ago, now. But I forgive your ignorance, I've only just returned yesterday from my service in Calgea's army."

Ulysses: Bluff 1d20 +3 = 23
Hadrian: Sense Motive 1d20 + 8 = 21

Hadrian's eyes flare, the fingers of his right hand twitching to draw his rapier, but he somehow restrains himself. Perhaps his valor is not so stern when faced with men who can fight back in lieu of defenseless maidens. "Well, see that you comport yourself with full military decorum, then. Whoever you are."

He stomps away, the few remaining guards following in his wake.

Ulysses shrugs. "And here I thought that might get interesting."