They had come for you last night.

The door to your lodgings had exploded inwards and then they were upon you with billy clubs and kicks, bearing you to the ground before you could put up much of a fight. Your hands were tightly bound behind you and you were dragged to your feet and only then did Freiburg's constabulary deign to introduce themselves with their official credentials. Other than informing you that you were wanted for crimes unspecified they would provide few details and were not minded to listen to any protestation of innocence.

After that you were dumped unceremoniously into the back of a barred carriage and conveyed across the city to the Stein, the old military fortress which makes up the heart of the city and from whose centre the Wachtturm rises. There you were escorted into the dungeons beneath the Guard headquarters, unbound and roughly shoved into a large cell, shortly to be joined by five others in a similar state of confusion and disarray.

That was several hours ago.

Through the small barred window near the ceiling you have watched the night turn into tentative dawn light and now the beating sunlight of midday. Other than the occasional passing of guards on patrol you have seen nobody bar your cellmates and have certainly had no more information about the reason you may have been of interest to the guards.
Just then you hear the noise of approaching feet and low voices;
"We've got them all now Captain Faeser."
"All six?"
"Yes sir, every single one of them on the list from Master Tchernivich."
"Excellent work sergeant. Any sign of the item?"
"No sir, didn't seem to be with any of them."
"Nevermind, we'll get the location out of them and get it back to the good merchant before the day is out."

Then the owners of the voices come into view before you. Three men, all in the uniform of guardsmen and the one in the centre, given the overly ornate nature of his doublet, must surely be the captain you heard referred to.

The captain nods his head to one of his colleagues who runs his baton along the bars of your cell ensuring the attention of anyone either sleeping or otherwise not paying him attention. He then barks at you in the assured voice that only authority figures on their own turf can ever quite manage;
"Right you lot. Master Tchernivich has had an item of particular value stolen from him and he's named the six of you as the prime suspects. I want to know where the eagle is and I want to know now. Fyodor Tchernivich is a big deal in this town and we intend to keep him happy which means I'm in no mood for games. So, who wants to share?"

You still have no idea what he's talking about but the name gives you a moment's pause. You know Fyodor Tchernivich and he knows you. But why does he think you've stolen from him?!?

OOC: This is just an opening post to broadly introduce your character such as the others may have gleaned from several hours stuck in a dank cell with you. You can respond to the captain or not as you please.

Also, when posting can you set out what your characters connection to Fyodor Tchernivich is (for those who haven't seen there is a bit about him in the Dramatis Personae thread). Your link to him could be as fleeting as one meeting in passing some time ago or having met him at a party mere days before and your relationship could be friendly or antagonistic (maybe not 'I killed his father in a duel' antagonistic, don't go crazy) but why would he remember your character in particular to set the guards on them some days/weeks/months later.

I've kept Fyodor intentionally something of a vague sketch so you can fill in any blanks you want. From a plot perspective the key facts are that he is a bachelor and he is, if not always a good person, at least a man of his word who sticks to his own code of honour. Pretty much anything else about him is up for grabs.

The Baroness had come from a party at which a number of courtiers and socialites were in attendance and had just gotten undressed for bed when the rather rude constables had broken in and manhandled her.  She met their brutish takedown with stony, haughty silence.  This was far from her first arrest, not that she would let on to these scoundrels.  She maintained a stony silence in the cell, sitting in a corner in her silken nightgown.

Arioushka Raskolnikov is a tall, slender Ussuran with red tresses that fall well below her shoulders.  Her skin is pale, except for a reddish birthmark in the shape of a chevron below her left ear.  She maintains a silent indifference, not having stolen anything recently, at least nothing for which it would be worth carting a boyar off to the houscow.  At mention of Fyodor Tchernivich, however, she cocks an eyebrow ever so slightly.  She had managed to have drinks with him and was hoping to catch up with him again later in the week.  He is someone in whom she has a great deal of interest.  If not a possible suitor, he could be very helpful in achieving her goals.  She looks around at the others with growing interest and suspicion.

Ivan had just returned home after a late night repast at the Weisse Kaninchen Tavern when he was arrested and dragged to the jail by the members of the watch. He was still dressed in his Ussuran Orthodox finery when he was rudely thrust into the cell with the others.

"Da. You go bring Fyodor Tchernivich here to discuss whatever dis business with dis Eagle is. And tell him dat he didn't have to send da authorities to roust me just to get my attention." Ivan snapped at the guards in heavily Ussuran accented Eisen.

He was clearly annoyed, but also perplexed as to why his long time friend would do such a thing. Ivan met Fyodor over fifteen years ago when the businessman was but a young trapper and hunter. Ivan was close to death, having been wandering naked through the Ussuran wilderness for over a week when he stumbled upon Fyodor and his hunting party enjoying a meal around a cozy fire. The group rescued Ivan, feeding him and providing warmth and provisions, saving his life.

That began a relationship marked by mutual respect and from Ivan's perspective, heartfelt gratitude. Over the years, Ivan and Fyodor met several times a year for dinner and drinks even as the two grew apart in their careers. Ivan joined the church, dedicating his life to helping the people of Thea. Fyodor gravitated towards mercantilism, rising to be one of the leading traders and currying favor with the Czarina. They also grew apart in their politics, Ivan questioning Katheryna's legitimacy and sympathizing with Ilya's claim to the Ussuran throne. Their friendship cooled slightly as a result, but Ivan still considered Fyodor a friend. Ivan was now wondering if the feeling was still mutual.

Turning to regard the other occupants of the cell, Ivan's annoyance with the situation melted away. He cocked an eyebrow as he noticed the young woman in the corner dressed only in her undergarments. Ivan shed his outer fur trimmed priestly robe, holding it out to the red haired woman saying "Please take this. You look as if you could use some warmth in this drafty cell." He purposely did not make reference to the social awkwardness of her dress.

Arya stands at the Priest's approach and accepts the robe gratefully.  With a baleful glare at their captors, she notes haughtily in unaccented Eisen, "I am Baroness Arioushka Raskolnikov of Calpurna," shifting her gaze to the nice man, her expression softens and she smiles the sort of smile that makes people want to do nice things for her.  "But you may call me Arya.  Thank you for your kindness, brother," she says in equally unaccented Ussuran.  She wraps the robe around her, although in truth, she did not seem as bothered by being so scantily clad as one might have expected.

Ivan helps the Baroness wrap herself in the coat. "A pleasure to meet you Baroness...ah...Arya." He gave the noblewoman a small bow in recognition of her station. "I am Father Ivan Somojez Dragov, but please call me Ivan...or Father Ivan if you must. I must say that I am surprised to find one of my noble countrywomen here in such circumstances. It seems that Fyodor Tchernivich has overreached his authority in some desperate attempt to recover this eagle, whatever it may be."