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Justimar was wide eyed throughout most of Arruk's speech. Foreign affairs? Legitimacy? Edification? The noble never imagined such things coming from the half-orc's mouth. Was it an act or had Justimar and the others been played these last few days?
A portal appears in front of Justimar's hound, the dog walking through it, returning to its domain without waiting for the dumbstruck noble to let it free. The summoner glanced at the shirt on the table, then back to Arruk with a grin. "I've never been so pleased to be bestowed a gift that I truly, sincerely did not desire. Splendid, my boy. Let us leave, and pray we needn't return." He left the gold coins on the ground as he paced to the exit.
-----
Outside the Last Stand, Justimar turned to his servant, instructing her curtly to relocate herself and his other belongings to the Ash House. He gave her a single gold coin, asking her to secure the cleaning agents necessary to make his jacket spotless once more.
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The orc shrugs, all nonchalance, and nods towards the innkeep, a little drool pooling at Arruk's bottom lip. "He needed to be taken down a notch. I'd get that shirt warshed before it makes its way into your wardrobe."
Leaving his axe behind the tavern's swinging front door, Arruk chuckles as he makes his way towards the castle gates. Taking into account the dandy's five gold and his handaxe, that was one expensive - if stained and smelly - shirt.
"Arruk, my boy, I redact my earlier unspoken concerns. I believe you'd make for a splendid sheriff." Justimar places a hand to his chin as he looks at the half-orc. "A bit raw, perhaps. Your unpolished, brash assertiveness could be refined. Discipline," he continues, bringing his fist down from his jaw to his open palm, "that is what you need. You could make for something great despite your heritage." The noble wondered if he could teach the brute, though quickly dismissed the notion.
Longacre's western gate looks almost as if some great giant picked up the stone gate from a rugged frontier fort and dropped it across the road leading into town. A set of weathered wooden doors stands open in the fortified stone. The Castle Gate, as Longacre's western gate is popularly called, might present a hindrance to invaders were it situated in a wall. As it is, the gate is merely a mossy stone tower connected to a short stone span that interrupts the aged, chest-high wooden fence surrounding the town. For most of Longacre's residents, the gate is a symbol of their town's grit and determination, but for the town's honorary gatekeepers, managing it is a solemn charge.
These gatekeepers, Bolouisia and Denton Gramel, live in a house close to the gate and rarely let the mossy pile of rocks out of their sight. Bo and Dent note everyone who passes through, greeting every neighbor, commenting on every loaded cart, and questioning newcomers as though they were guards at the imperial palace. For the most part, though, the couple is content to watch people come and go, and keep on alert for danger coming down the road.
Bo is seated in a sturdy and well-weathered wooden chair beside the gate, lounging and smoking a pipe as she maintains her vigil.
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The woman was alone, lonely little creature with no horde of friends to protect her, no one to notice when a spider's web ensnared her. This would be easy--so easy, that Amatsu could not help but take the opportunity to toy with her prey.
"Greetings, dear Boluisia," says Amatsu, stepping forward and bowing, far lower than what would be required for a gatekeeper--or even a king. And when her bow reaches its lowest point, she looks up at the gatekeeper--and the words she speaks are neither Taldan nor Minkain, but the guttural language she used back at the tannery.
"Dearest Boluisia, my friends and I come on behalf of the Archbaron, who bares a simple request: that the gate be closed, and that this notice be placed upon the gate. Such a simple request, is it not? And so easy to fulfill," she says, as she stretches back up, like a snake uncoiling itself before striking at a mouse. "Denton--he may disapprove. But I am sure you can do a simple favor for me and convince him to do this, yes? The decrees are so minor--surely you can persuade him."
"And of course, I would never ask a favor without offering something in return. There is a secret remedy we use in Minkai, to relieve the pains of a long day of labor. I will tell you this secret," she says, reaching into her robe and extracting a bone-white needle from Hime's body. "Do this for Denton, and I promise you will face no objections from him. Tonight, when you sleep, take this pin, and press it into his skin, where the shoulder meets the neck. He will find it painful at first, but do it enough and all his pains will be relieved, I promise you that."
Amatsu smiles, tight lipped, and stretches out her hand, offering the needle to the gatekeeper,
It takes several moments, but when Justimar realizes what Amatsu was attempting to do, he whispers a spell of his own. He walks forward, placing a hand on the Minkai woman's shoulder. "While I know not the pains of labor, Miss Mi's treatments cured my pains of the mind." The nobleman smiles at the guardwoman, turning to grin at Amatsu. "She is quite the miracle worker."
Arruk was simply going to walk up to the gate, stick the notice to it, and tell the goobers it was closed. But Amatsu and Justimar beat him to something, almost like they were one mind, some ruse or trick that the logger couldn't figure out.
So instead, Arruk stood behind the two flexed his wrists. He didn't particularly like the idea of beating up a couple of goobers. But he would if it came to it.
Bolouisa's eyes glaze over as Amatsu's spell ensnares her mind. "Oh, close the gate? Dent and I have been keepin' the gate open 'cept for nights and holidays for all eighteen years we've been mindin' it. You're really sure this is for the best?" she looks over the list of decrees. "Some of these seem pretty harsh, but... If you say so." She smiles absently. She takes the needle from Amatsu. "Dent's back has been botherin' him of late... I'll see if this helps. Thanks so kindly, ma'am." She heads inside the structure of the gate's squat support towers to the mechanism for cranking the gate shut. She hesitates for a moment, but the spell withstands her apprehension.
The loud rumble as the gears turn and the gate slides shut draws Denton from the house. "Bo? Bo! What's goin' on out here? Why's the gate closed?" he asks.
"Oh it's no trouble, dear. Look, these folks are here from the Archbaron. We've got to close the gate for now, just for a little while while this talk of rebellion dies down."
Denton's expression reveals his confusion. "But this..." he says, beginning to read the proclamation. "Bo, you can't be serious. This isn't right!"
Bo shushes him. "We'll talk about this later," she says, turning to hammer the proclamation onto the gate. "No need to waste more of these fine folks' time. Y'all have a nice day," she says.
Denton glares at you as you leave, but doesn't move to stop anyone or interfere with the proclamation. Once you're out of earshot you can see him engage in an argument with Bo in the distance.
A fifteen-foot-tall wooden post, scarred by nails and plastered with faded pronouncements, rises from a bed of posies in the church square. A verdigris-stained copper archer swivels atop a squeaky weather vane at the post's summit.
Local news, business listings, and past decrees of lesser importance cover the post. Those who peruse the papers here and find at least five decrees by Archbaron Fex imposing new or raising existing taxes on local businesses.
Amatsu remembers hearing that the archer atop the post is a depiction of Alisa the Bandit Buster, who slew a bandit lord named Kalisboro who once preyed upon the town from the depths of the Whisperwood.
Justimar looks at the various weathered decrees upon the post, his eyes always falling on the signature at the bottom: Darellus Fex.
In some ways, Justimar had a respect for the Archbaron who refused to meet with him. The two of them were similar in many respects, though Justimar was always the lesser in each comparison. Both men were conjurers, but Fex had some acclaim for it. Both men nobles of their great, Infernal Nation, though Fex had a title, and was the head of his house. Indeed, the two of men served their nation, but Fex seemed to take orders from the Queen or one of her agents, whereas Justimar took his from the Archbaron's silhouetted lackey.
"It seems we have naught a need for needles or threats this time." Justimar glances towards the nearby church. They may take offense to the action, but he couldn't see warriors or clerics of Iomedae attacking them outright for the act. "Let us finish this promptly and relieve the sheriff. "
Arruk nods, in full agreement with the nobleman. "Quick it is." Taking the proclamation, Arruk looks over the post for a suitable nail, about eye height, easier for the noticing and reading of displayed messages. Jamming the proclamation over one such nail, the logger looks around and shrugs. "That's that, then?"
Adding to the notice post attracts the attention of several locals, who soon gather to read the decree. One of the first to approach is a rather severe woman who Amatsu recognizes as Doctor Gerya Rohalendi, another medical practitioner in the town. While several of the townsfolk with her—about 10 or so—immediately get upset and start complaining about the injustice of a curfew and being treated like prisoners, Doctor Rohalendi keeps her head.
She calmly follows the group, and asks several questions about the decree and its specifics. "Pardon me. I would like to know some more about Archbaron Fex's proclamations. Will those who break curfew to see to a medical emergency be arrested? Half of Longacre is related—what does "family" mean in this context? Is group gathering at the tavern assisting the establishment in "the natural course of its business?" How can those from outside town obtain a writ of passage if they're not allowed in to visit the notary?" She asks her questions earnestly and without any emotional response to the answers, leaving time between her queries to allow you to respond.
Justimar is kind to the woman, not wanting another tavern situation on his hands. They were outnumbered here, even with Justimar's servants and Amatsu's creatures. As she trailed them, he mumbled a quick spell, crossed his arms behind his back, and spoke clearly for all to hear.
"Should an emergency require our aid during the curfew, we are more than happy to assist in whatever way we can. Additionally, a healer may register to sanction their business at the notary and exempt themselves from the curfew, allowing them to address such situations as need be."
"If one seeks a writ of passage, they'd do well to ask for an agent of the Archbaron to escort them to the notary. Our noble gatekeepers will both protect this town from dangerous outsiders and alert our number should our presence be required."
Justimar grins at the doctor, trying to assess her for motive. "These decrees are for the well-being of Longacre and it's citizens, and to preserve our nation's integrity. The Archbaron and his agents exist solely for your protection and security. As you can see, such a system relies on an active communication between Longacre's residents and local government officials. We need people like you to help protect and preserve Longacre."
"I see," she replies, her expression neutral. "What of taverns? Are customers gathering to eat and drink considered to be engaging in the natural course of business and can congregate in larger numbers without fear of arrest?"
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Arruk scratches his head, a frown creasing his misshapen face. "Why so concerned with taverns, lady? Like the tipple a little too much? Just take a bottle home with you."
"Look, any place wants can apply for an exemption. If they're lawful establishments, they've got nothing to fear, I'd wager. If they're owned by difficult sods who serve rotten soup, then that may be a different matter."
Rohalendi looks down the bridge of her nose at Arruk with a deadpan expression as he answers. "I appreciate knowing the process to be followed," she replies dryly. "One last question and I'll leave you to return to your duties," she says. "I see that visitors will be required to receive a writ of passage from the notary. Since the notary is within the town limits, how should travelers stopped at the gates proceed to apply for such a writ?"
Justimar is quick to resume speaking as soon as Arruk finishes, praying that he cuts off any of the half-orc's lingering tangents. "Visitors will be promptly informed by the gatekeepers that they require a writ of passage for entry." The noble sighs as he rubs his brow, wishing that he himself was informed exactly how this would work. He nods as he speaks, agreeing with the process he makes up as he speaks aloud. "They will then be escorted into town, either by Agents of the Archbaron or by the guards themselves, screened to ensure their presence and purpose will not threaten the safety of the Longacre citizens, and given a writ of passage by the notary following their approval."
He forces a smile at the woman. At first he wasn't annoyed, but her questions (or perhaps Arruk's intervention) drained him. "There will be revisions to these systems, of course, and it may take time for us to find firm footing. I am more than willing to discuss these topics further at another time, though there is business still yet conducted."
"By all means," Rohalendi replies. "Thank you for your time, and I appreciate your openness. Have a good afternoon." She heads back off in the direction of her residence and place of business, leaving you to your last destination - the Jail and the attached Sheriff's Office.