A procession of horse-drawn carriages trailed from the brightly lit facade of the theater. Glowing lanterns mounted near the front of each coach painted the cobbled streets in twin rings of light. Geralt motioned for another couple to come forth as the lead coach in the procession clamored forward and stopped at the base of the stairs. A portly Dwarf dressed in the height of fashion escorted his slender wife toward the awaiting coach.
The performance had drawn out the old monied dwarves, powerful merchant lords, and gangsters putting on airs. All in all, Geralt surmised that this play might feed the coffers of the theater for more than a month as word spread across town. In truth, even a poorly written and acted play still drew out the high-born and the well monied, eager for an opportunity to peacock for one another in a public place.
Another coach approached an he motioned them into position, while indicating to the next customer in line to hold until it was safe to proceed. Behind him the doors of the theater spilled plenty of revelers that needed no coach to validate their position. Some waited and watched the spectacle of celebrity citizens lined up in front of the theater. Others, content to seek further entertainment, struck out on foot or hailed cabs at the end of the lane.
Geralt, alway keen to manage his post, watched the surrounding crowd as much for security reasons as logistics. There was a great deal of movement and commotion at the fringes of the theater’s light. He hoped there wouldn’t be any trouble tonight. He had quelled his share of scuffles where personalities clashed publicly and violently. Incidents like these were bad for business, but as long as they did not reflect on the theater it was none of his concern.
Geralt motioned the next carriage driver forward. A shadow under the carriage melted, a trick of the light? he thought. He turned to see two women on the arms of one of the local thugs who made no presence to high status or class; He was a playboy and a thug. Winterhouse climbed into the coach followed by two ladies from the theater. One, an understudy to the lead and the other a bit player. The two women giggled like school girls, proud to be part of the grand exodus. Geralt watched the driver and his second turn the vehicle ‘round mid street and double back the other direction. Thats when he noticed a tardy footman mount the rear of the coach. No doubt slacking in his duty. Geralt shook his head and banished the carriage from his thoughts.
Turning to greet a guild chief and his wife, he thought that the major difference between the a guild master and a thug enforcer was conduct and presentation. Their responsibilities only differed in the way they comported themselves.
Geralt glanced toward the overcast sky. He thought he could make out two figures floating at the rooftop level. He thought better of it, everyone know that flying in the city was frowned upon and would often earn a swift rebuke from the town guard.