Cimri laughs. "No, not likely - unless she's pulled the stick out of her robes and started worshiping Calistria."
Rhona frowns suspiciously.
You have got to be kidding me! THAT’S Cimri's aunt?
Wolfgang edges through the gathering crowd, trying to get closer to Nomed, Sicaria, or Eradessa, whoever is nearest, to make sure they know about Cimri's relationship to the town authorities and not at all because he suddenly feels the need to have someone watching his back.
The human nearly trips over herself when she realizes where she’s seen Rhona before.
You have got to be kidding!
Sicaria scans the gathering crowd, searching for a set of familiar rainbow locks. She briefly meets Wolfgang’s gaze as she realizes that he’s figured it out too. Her eyes finally fall on Eradessa and she makes a bee-line to the gnome, hoping that the wide circle of avoidance that the crowd gives them is enough to afford a smidgen of privacy.
Sicaria places a hand on Eradessa’s shoulder and whispers in the woman’s ear.
”Keep an eye on the family reunion, Sunshine; we may need a distraction if things go sideways.”
Seeing that Sicaria has picked up on the trouble brewing and is making her way over to Eradessa, Wolfgang nods to her and heads toward Nomed to warn the big tengu to be ready.
The Staelishs continue their rather one-sided conversation. "Did you hear about what happened at the tannery last night?" Rhona asks, eyebrow raised. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
"No," Cimri retorts. "Should I?"
Rhona crosses her arms and looks squarely at her niece.
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Oh, s$~*. This is going to go south in a hurry, and not the way I was expecting.
Wolfgang looks around the square frantically, trying to come up with an idea, but is distracted by the gathering mob.
Hmmm. Of course, it could go south exactly the way I was expecting…
Wolfgang growls a few words of arcane power and disappears from sight. Threading his way through the crowd, he shouts at the top of his lungs,
The tiefling keeps walking until his spell wears off .
Maybe one of the others will join in?
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Nomed, who has been listening intently to the conversation, almost laughs out loud once Wolfgang tells him the good news, that Aunt Rhona just so happens to also be the f++~ing sheriff!
This is bad bad juju. Cimri is vulnerable, time to think Nomed..
Nomed moves his way over to the group of trees by the edge of the square, pretending to have lost interest with the crowd. He pulls out a trail ration from his backpack, and once no one is looking, a single arrow. He makes a show of eating the ration, to appear for all purposes as someone having a snack in the shade on a hot afternoon. He gets up and goes behind the cover of the trees briefly, the arrow concealed in his large hand.
Nomed takes one more second to ensure no one sees him, and, tracing a talon along his recent chest wound places the arrow right in front of the still healing flesh. Luckily it sounds like the crowd is distracted, as sudden cheers for Archbaron Fex suddenly rise high above the normal chatter. The tengu uses that as his cue to act..
This is going to hurt hurt.. Nomed sighs to himself as he drives the arrow deep into the wound!
Suddenly to the onlookers of the crowd, a large, pissed off birdman with an arrow sticking out of his chest comes barreling through the packed square! Nomed glares at all who are looking and yells..
"WHO WOULD DARE TRY TO SHOOT SLAY ME WHILE I EAT?! WHO AMONGST YOU IS THE THRICE DAMNED COWARD??! SPEAK!"
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Sicaria herself starts panicking at the sheriff's line of question when she hears the sudden chanting.
When she turns to see Wolfgang spontaneously appearing amidst the crowd she realizes the tiefling was the one shouting.
Don't know what your plan is, buddy, but we're already in this deep...
"WHO WOULD DARE TRY TO SHOOT SLAY ME WHILE I EAT?! WHO AMONGST YOU IS THE THRICE DAMNED COWARD??! SPEAK!"
The human turns to see the tengu come out from behind a tree with an arrow stuck in him and she just stops mid-chant.
Oh...I guess that's the plan.
Sicaria rushes to Nomed's side, quickly kneeling next to him and assessing the wound.
"Hold still! This is stuck in pretty good."
She then carefully attempts to remove the arrow from the bird's chest as part of his ruse.
"There. Now lets stop that bleeding."
Sicaria shoots Nomed a brief glare before she hovers her hand over the tengu's wound and utters a chant, causing her hand to dimly glow green as the wound stitches itself closed.
Sicaria stands to her feet and turns around with a flourish, waving her cloak to the side to clearly show the stags emblazoned upon her sash.
"What is the meaning of this?!"
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Eradessa, who doesn't quite see through their ruse, wanders over to Nomed. "Whoah! You got shot!" She seems oddly happy at this turn of events... Crouching down she places a hand on his wound, and pulls her hand back, red with blood. She sniffs it.... and sighs.
Then she turns to look at the crowd. "Shame on you..." she says, clicking her tongue. "Tsk... tsk... tsk..."
As she scans the crowd she licks the blood off her fingers.
Mmm... Tangy.
"Isn't this supposed to be a peaceful gathering? I came here with an open mind, to hear what everyone has to say. But so far I've been shunned, insulted, and that poor soul was shot." She shakes her head again. "Whoever it was who brought such violence here should really be careful. You're going to give the Iomedaens a baaaaaaaad reputation."
The sudden cacophony of yelling startles Rhona and Cimri, the former whistling sharply as she sees the injured Nomed. As several of her deputies appear from the crowd, she barks directions. "Brent, Masha, fan out and find the attacker. Colleen, Jethro, Leon, calm the crowd. The last thing we need is a riot because someone got over-excited." She squints suspiciously at the tengu, then turns back to Cimri. "Well, I have to keep an eye on things here. You all," she turns to glance at Wolfgang, Nomed, Sicaria, and Eradessa in turn, "stay out of trouble, you hear?" She departs for the trees, her very presence calming the anxious crowd around her.
Cimri tries to hide a giggle under her arm as her aunt departs. "Allamar's not the only one with a stick in her robes," she mutters under her breath before turning to her companions. "Come, Nomed, let's get you out of this crowd so you can rest," she suggests.
Once around the corner of a nearby shop, Cimri can't contain her laughter anymore. "Calistria's knickers, but you lot sure know how to make a scene!" she guffaws. "What came over you?"
Noticing a deputy spying on them, Eradessa gives the deputy a dimpled smile, and waves pleasantly at him. Then she makes a kiss face at him.
Turning to her companions she says, "I'm going to go make friends." With a wink she's off, skipping over to the deputy.
"Crazy day, huh? So, what's up? You're staring, so something must be up!" She waggles her eyebrows. "Who're you into? Cimri? Sicaria? Me? I'm a little small for you, but I wouldn't blame you for looking." With a look of interest she asks, "Or is it Wolfgang? Oh! Or Nomed? I'm sure those two could use some affection..."
Eradessa continues to chat up the deputy, implying that he MUST be interested in one of them. Why else would he stare instead of doing his duty and calming the crowd...?
The tiefling starts to complain that Cimri should have warned them that he aunt is the sheriff, but stops when Eradessa slips off to harass the deputy. He launches into a different rant instead.
"I don't know what you're talking about, madam! This man is injured, and it is not a laughing matter! I will certainly report to the Archbaron's aide that the townsfolk of Longacre may need to be reminded of the consequences for attacking one of the Archbaron's men! Why, the unmitigated gall of it! In broad daylight!"
Sicaria watches Eradessa go to uncomfortably question the deputy and keeps her mouth shut, letting Wolfgang continue his ruse until the deputy goes away.
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Nomed takes a second to calm down, his adrenaline pumping from the nerves of having to slam an arrow into a fresh wound and then having to subsequently lie about how it happened. He looks over at Cimri as she amuses over the current situation and says in a soft and reassuring tone..
"My word is my bond. If I speak say to you the job will get done, the job gets done. I would suffer the arrows from this whole damned city before letting down down my team." he says, looking over at Wolfgang, Sicaria, and Eradessa in turn with a nod.
Nomed takes Cimri's advice and sits down away from the crowd for a minute before his senses tell him that he is being watched by someone nearby. The culprit is soon apparent as Nomed watches Eradessa strut her way towards the suspect in question. He keeps a protective watch on her, and observes the situation as it plays itself out
"Why, I'm here to keep an eye on things and make sure someone doesn't get injured again," the deputy replies with a wink. "Apparently it's not safe around here - sheriff said she saw some suspicious folks and asked me to keep an eye out for them. You wouldn't happen to have seen anyone suspicious, would you?"
"Only you, handsome!" Eradessa replies with a wide grin. "And myself, of course. I'm Era, by the way. What's your name? Or do I need to keep making up nicknames for you, Deputy?"
Eradessa waggles her eyesbrows at him. "I'll keep an eye out for suspicious folks for you, don't you worry.!
She continues to chat up and distract the deputy until the speech starts.
"Alright, Wolfgang - keep that up and the sheriff will have to come talk to us about this injury," Cimri cautions. "And, frankly, I'd rather talk with my aunt as little as possible. Thanks for, um, the distraction." She sighs as she watches Eradessa. "Rhona won't arrest us without cause, but we've certainly raised her suspicions with all those theatrics - and I'd bet her underpants that's why our 'friend' is here. Let's just keep quiet and watch the show."
As the sun reaches its zenith, Tileavia Allamar, Fifth Sword Knight of Iomedae, appears on one of the church’s balconies dressed in the yellow-trimmed white cassock of her faith. She addresses the crowd in a clear, strong voice:
“Friends and neighbors, I have wondrous tidings to share! We have all known hardships in our lives - needless sorrows, injustice, even cruelty. Indeed, such is the struggle of all who live. But many among us have known more than our share. Many among us have shouldered burdens laid upon them not by the Inheritor, but by those who would curse her name and taunt her faithful.
“But today, I bear a missive from champions of Iomedae’s faith, heralds of the goddess’s will, who know your troubles and would see them end.” She gestures to the church entrance below her, where two young men carry a box swaddled in white linen between them. As they set it on the table in front of the church, the priestess unfurls a rolled parchment and again raises her voice.
“I received this letter last night:
“‘People of Longacre! The time of your redemption is at hand. When the song of the Inheritor rises, you all must choose: live as complacent vassals of corruption and evil, or embrace honor and claim the glory that is your right. The Glorious Reclamation gives you a choice.’
“Signed, ‘Lencia Visserene, Knight-Inheritor of the Glorious Reclamation.’
“Friends, it is up to us to restore the worship of Iomedae to its proper place in Cheliax and reclaim our nation in the name of the Inheritor. But we have been given a sign - a sign that the ‘Angel Knight’ has come to Longacre to lead us to glory!”
The two men lift the linen and box lid, revealing an ornate silver helmet sculpted with angelic features and a halo of curls. The faceplate's eyeless hollows stare sternly into the crowd, which begins murmuring in confusion and excitement. Tileavia turns and reenters the temple, leaving the crowd in the square to its own devices. Several folks walk away immediately, but most crowd around the table to look at the helmet and discuss the priestess's message loudly.
Sicaria listens with intent to the priestess’s sermon, forcing herself to keep her hands at her sides instead of on her blades. Her thoughts, clouded with contempt, are nonetheless focused on the woman’s preachings.
”Glorious Reclamation”?
The sermon is over as soon as it had started, leaving the red-haired human with far more questions than answers. She pushes her way through the crowd, striding up near the front to get a look at this helm that has been brought out from the church.
”Angel Knight”...?
Is she insane? Hellfire and damnation, have all of these people lost their minds?
Wolfgang wiggles a finger in one ear, trying to clean it out. "I must have misheard her. Did the Sword Knight just preach treason in the damn town square? And what's that helmet supposed to be?"
The tiefling moves his hands and intones, "Vaadake maagiat kõikjal." His eyes flare red before returning to their normal color.
"Be right back," he mutters. Wolfgang slinks a little closer to church, peering at the helmet.
"Treason? Yup! She sure did!" Eradessa remarks with a grin. "Damn, this chick's got spunk! I bet she tastes like sour lemons! I like her. She's totally going to die!" Eradessa seems thoroughly entertained. "So are a lot of these people if they keep ooh-ing and aaah-ing over that helmet."
Wolfgang pushes his way through the crowds, trying to make it to the helmet before his cantrip expires...
...but the jostling from the townsfolk just as eager to get a glimpse themselves (and someone's heavy boot stepping on his foot) causes him to lose concentration on the spell before he can study the helmet.
"You like the weirdest people," Cimri remarks absentmindedly to Eradessa as she tries to spot the helmet over the crowd. "But we came, we saw, we were definitely seen." She grins at Nomed. "Anything else here, or shall be report back to Razelago for some easy money?"
Sicaria ignores the hustle and bustle of the crowd trying to get a look at the helmet (it helps that her “association” with the archbaron keeps the crowd away from her). She ignores the side-chatter of her associates. She ignores everything and stares deeply at this helmet.
This helmet. This helmet is vexing her. Why here? Why now? And why does it cause a pious faithful of the Inheritor to start spouting treason for all to hear?
The human softly growls. She turns heel and walks away from the table. She silent moves in the direction of the Ash House. She contemplates one thing she heard but did not actively think about until just this moment:
"Damn, this chick's got spunk! I bet she tastes like sour lemons! I like her. She's totally going to die!"
If any of us is killing any of those hypocritical, holier-than-thou pricks, it’s going to be me!
She wanted to grab that sunshine-and-roses gnome by her psychedelic locks and set her straight , but she knew that the sheriff’s deputy would be on her in an instant if she did.
The sheriff… Sicaria muses to herself. I wonder what her opinion is about treason against Her Infernal Majestrix?
Sicaria keeps this thought to herself for the moment, silently walking back towards the Ash House, not caring if her compatriots happen to be following her or not.
"You like the weirdest people," Cimri remarks absentmindedly to Eradessa as she tries to spot the helmet over the crowd.
Eradessa grins. "Obviously. I like you, don't I?" She waggles her eyebrows at Cimri and lets out a laugh. "Besides, most people are SUPER boring. #!&%ing monotonous cattle."
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Nomed struts proudly, somehow taking yet ANOTHER f@%!ing arrow to the chest has proven his worth but what can you do, it was still a victory at the end of the day. Eager to get some actual rest and relaxation, and a whole lot of food, Nomed follows suit walking silently behind Sicaria towards the Ash House.
Wolfgang watches as the two young men re-cover the helmet and carry it back into the church before following the other miscreants back to the Ash House. The entire town is abuzz with gossip about what just happened, though nobody speaks very loudly around those wearing the archbaron's insignia.
Back at the Ash House, Razelago's silhouette nods from behind the familiar screen as the group files into his office. "So, what happened?" he asks, thin voice curious.
Sicaria steps forward to speak first—speaking for the first time since the Fifth Sword Knight’s speech.
”We ran into a slight,” the human glances back and shoots Cimri a glare. ”complication, but we were able to handle it. Tileavia proceeded to preach treason to the crowd—that some ‘Glorious Reclamation’ has come to Cheliax and pleading the citizens to choose between Iomedae and Cheliax. The speech ended with a helm being brought out for exhibition—a sign of some ‘Angel Knight’ that has come to Longacre.”
As Sicaria begins the debriefing, Wolfgang taps his left thumb against each of the other fingers on that hand, a habit when thinking that he has had so long that he no longer notices it.
"See, that's interesting," he interrupts. "I thought that when the priest said that the helmet was a sign that the 'Angel Knight' had come to Longacre, she was talking about Iomedae. Not that the goddess herself is physically here, just priest-talk, like when they say 'Iomedae is everywhere.' I tried to check the brain bucket for magic, but the damn sheep were crowding around that ridiculous dented can so I couldn't get close enough."
Best not to mention losing my chance when that idiot stomped on my foot.
When Wolfgang brings up his point, Sicaria rubs the fur of her cloak between two fingers as she looks off in thought.
”’Inheritor,’ ‘Light of the Sword,’ ‘Lady of Valor,’ those are names I’ve heard Iomedae called by; ‘Angel Knight’ would be a new one to me.”
The woman straightens back up, speaking once more to Razelago rather than thinking aloud.
”Nevertheless, that helm is something I had never seen before—I have no idea what it could be or how it relates to this ‘Angel Knight,’ whether it be Iomedae or a champion of the goddess.”
Eradessa nods along with the others. "Yeah, plus the sheriff and her goons were watching us more than the crowd."
"That's a more dramatic move than I'd expect from a country priestess - I'm impressed. Tileavia Allamar might be more interesting than I’d thought," Razelago's thin voice muses. "It’s the helmet and this ‘Angel Knight’ I’m curious about, though. I’ve heard rumors of the Glorious Reclamation. An overzealous mob of Iomedaean fanatics calling for a nationwide revolution, as if there was any hope of that. Still, Archbaron Fex might find this information valuable."
“In any case, you’ve done well. You’ll find your payment in the parlor. I shouldn’t have any more work for you today, but I suspect that might change tomorrow. I’ll send word.” He nods his head - either as an invitation for questions or a silent dismissal.
Sicaria silently nods and waits to see if anyone else has anything to say before turning to move to the parlor.
So we're really working for Archbaron Fex? That's a surprise. I thought Razelago was just trying to stir things up. If it's true, though... Hmmm. This is promising.
"Sir, I..." Wolfgang starts to ask if Razelago could point them to a reliable fence for the items the group lifted from the tannery, then thinks better of it in case the Archbaron's man would be unhappy at an unsanctioned theft. Save it, and just ask Cimri again later. To cover himself, he fumbles for another, less incriminating question.
"I was wondering if any of the old books laying around might be old wizard's spellbooks? I might be of more use to the team -- to you -- if I had access to a few more spells to choose from."
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Nomed bows as he enters Razelago's chamber, lifting his head once he is done addressing the group before responding with the only obvious question coming to his mind once Wolfgang is done speaking..
Forgive me Cimri for asking this...
"Razelago sir, it comes to my attention attention that we may have another run in soon soon with the sheriff. Just a hunch, but I believe it so. This situation is most complicated, and stumps me... if were caught captured for any reason what shall you have me do?"
The tengu asks, knowing the usual beak to face method of solving problems is out of the question this time..
Eradessa nods. "Thanks, pal! See ya' tomorrow!"
Eradessa scampers off once everyone's done talking, takes off her sash, and scoops up her payment.
"I was wondering if any of the old books laying around might be old wizard's spellbooks? I might be of more use to the team -- to you -- if I had access to a few more spells to choose from."
Razelago laughs, a thin sound quickly swallowed by the screen. "I'm afraid the knowledge in these books were lost long ago when the Ash house burned. Of course, it wasn't called the Ash House at that time. But if the arcane is what you seek, perhaps you should seek an audience with the Archbaron." He chuckles again.
"Razelago sir, it comes to my attention attention that we may have another run in soon soon with the sheriff. Just a hunch, but I believe it so. This situation is most complicated, and stumps me... if were caught captured for any reason what shall you have me do?"
"Why, from what you've told me, you've done nothing wrong," Razelago replies. "If you're that concerned about the sheriff, perhaps you should lay low here for a while. As for if you're captured, well, I'm sure she wouldn't harm an innocent person."
"Now then, off you go."
--------------------------------------------
In the parlor, five bags of coins wait for the miscreants. The shops should be open for several hours more, as should the rest of town.
The human counts out her share of the payment and stuffs it in her pocket.
”We should whittle down our inventory for coin—better to be well-equipped for whatever Razelago has in mind next. But first,”
Sicaria walks over to the only other human in the room and stands over her. She folds her arms across her chest, and with a look of frustration on her face, speaks what everyone in the room has been thinking since the incident in the square:
”Your aunt is the sheriff?!”
Eradessa scoops up her payment and tucks it into her lacy backpack. Then she turns to watch Sicaria and Cimri...
Wolfgang walks by the table and one of the bags of coins disappears.
”We should whittle down our inventory for coin—better to be well-equipped for whatever Razelago has in mind next.
"Agreed. And I think it may take us a bit of work to find someone to take these skins and excess suits of armor off our hands."
Did he really mean I should seek an audience with the Archbaron? Was that a warning? Maybe I should stick to what I know.
”Your aunt is the sheriff?
The tiefling pauses in his musings to see how Cimri responds.
"Right handy, don't you think?" Cimri says, meeting Sicaria's gaze evenly. "When the parents left for the woods, she decided she had to take me under her wing. I couldn't care less what the old bag thinks, but it does mean I can play on her heartstrings to get any of you out of prison in a jiffy." She shrugs, collecting her own sack of coins. "Not that that's an invitation to go do crazy s&+~ and get locked up on purpose, you hear?"
"Now, we can't just take those skins to the general store to sell - first off, the Gield sisters'll just say they don't buy that stuff there and haven't we tried ol' Louslik up the road, and second, they'll recognize the tannery stamps. But I think I might know someone who wouldn't ask too many questions - the dockmaster, Ingoe Zoags."
That didn't look like pulling heartstrings back there.
Sicaria straightens up and turns around, breaking eye contact from Cimri.
"Fine. You seem to know what you're doing. Lead the way."
"Crazy sh*%? Aww, Cimri, you know me! Sane as a..." Eradessa pauses, and scrunches up her nose in thought. "...uh... sane person! Yup! That's me! 100% totally-not-crazy." Eradessa grins, clearly not believing her outlandish claims herself. "Shall we?"
Wolfgang grunts in surprise. "That weaselly chiseler? He would... Yeah, actually, that makes sense. Think we can find a wheelbarrow in this old ruin? We'll be able to haul everything to him at once, maybe put some kind of tarp over it to cover up the goods?"
"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," Cimri replies. "But I, um, I got some other business to take care of. And besides, Ingoe and I have... history. I'm sure you'll be fine without me there." She tucks her newly-acquired wealth into her belt pouch and swiftly climbs out the window.
----------------------------------------------------
The docks, thankfully, are on the same side of town as the Ash House. Without much traffic, the miscreants are able to bring their ill-gotten wares without incident to a shack at the end of a rickety gray dock jutting out over the Whisper River. A nearby block-and-tackle crane hangs listlessly in the still air, a black-and-white-feathered bird perched attentively atop.
"Right there, haven't seen your faces before," a smooth voice calls out as an older man closes the door to the shack behind him. "You all must be new in town. And, judging from that wheelbarrow, you have something you'd like shipped. You sending this up or downstream, and what weight and volume are we talking about here?" He pulls out a short pencil and a small notepad of paper, making notes as he waits for a response.
”Mr. Zoags, I presume? We’re not exactly looking to ship; just need some stuff off our hands, if you know what I mean.”