”We’re here to get paid to be messengers, Cimri.”
Wish I could read Cimri better. Although I don't have to trust her motives, I can probably at least trust her sense of self-preservation.
Wolfgang glances at the others, then gives Cimri a little bow and a toothy grin. "With one hand I give. You're certainly right about the time."
Turning to Sicaria, he says, "Maybe you should watch the door while we give the place another look- over. Cimri might see something inside that we don't, and it's probably better for her to be out of sight for a bit."
And I'd rather have someone I trust watching the door.
Absent an objection, he heads back into the office to see what they can find.
Cimri grins. "That's the spirit, Wolfgang!"
Inside, Nomed points out several cabinets. Their doors are all locked, but Cimri pulls out her lockpicks and starts working on one in the common room. As Wolfgang carefully surveys the sheriff's office, he finds another cabinet - and a lockbox.
- a small metal stick
- a masterwork bronze scizore decorated with a sculpted skeletal lion
- a bottle of blue liquid
- ten bottles of varying shapes all containing fine reddish powder
- seventeen Taldan quartos containing scripts for two-performer "plays" (including "Her Highness's Tea Service" and "The Guardsman's Fine Salute")
- seven skull-shaped onyxes
- a pouch containing 10 platinum and a bill of ownership for a "Halfling, male, 20 years, service-trained. Missing toe on left foot. Responds to the name 'Ardin'"
"Nomed, Eradessa! Come give me a hand with these!" In the common room, Cimri grins proudly as she throws open the cabinet doors to reveal an assortment of weapons and armor:
- three suits of leather armor
- four light wooden shields
- six clubs
- four light crossbows
- forty bolts
- four longswords
- six saps
- six potions clearly marked with the symbol of Iomedae and labeled "Cure Light Wounds"
- two potions clearly labeled "Remove Disease"
- a key etched with the word "Pillory"
"See? Easy enough to say those blokes took all this with 'em when they left." Cimri laughs and looks around the room again before calling to Wolfgang. "Anything good in there?"
Sicaria begrudgingly stands watch at the door while the other miscreants raid the sheriff’s office, muttering under her breath.
"The key to the pillory, huh? Anybody locked in the stocks at the moment?"
Wolfgang drops his lockpick. "Damn! Hang on." He grabs the pick off the floor and tries again.
He drops the pick again. "Oh, for Pazuzu's sake..."
Finally! That was getting to be embarrassing.
"Oooh, this is interesting. Let's see what we've got here."
Wolfgang tells the others what he found in the box. "This is a nice little haul!"
”Nobody locked up outside - though I’m sure you’ll change that soon enough, ‘Sheriff’!” Cimri teases as she dumps the armor onto the central table. ”Looks like you found the contraband - nice! And you say this stick is a wand?”
”Nomed, Eradessa, any of this look useful? Sicaria, come give it a look-through too.”
Sicaria sighs as she approaches the goods. She looks over the items while unconsciously fiddling with the fur of her cloak before her eyes settle on the key. She looks it over slightly longer than the other items before she shrugs and returns to the doorway to keep watch, not saying a word.
Eradessa grins as she plucks the metal wand from the pile of loot. "Don't mind if I do!" She grins at Wolfgang. "Nice job, pal!" She also takes three potions, immediately drinking one of them.
"Right, that just leaves the church square. Let's get this done and get paid!" Cimri tucks a healing potion into her pocket as well before helping Nomed pack the other armors and weapons into his rather-stuffed pack. "Gonna need to stop by ol' Ingoe again to get rid of some of this," she muses out loud.
The church square is much the same as it was yesterday, with small groups of townsfolk conversing in low voices. The fifteen-foot-tall notice post, scarred by nails and plastered with faded pronouncements, rises from a bed of posies in the middle of the yard. The green-stained copper archer still swivels atop the weather vane atop the post, squeaking occasionally in the light wind.
As Cimri hammers in the decree over a small poster for a missing cat , the noise attracts several of the onlookers. As more and more of them gather around the notice post, the sound of angry murmuring starts to grow louder and louder.
"...an injustice, this is..."
"...curfew? Here? But why would..."
"...means to treat us like prisoners, 'e does..."
Cimri backs away and tries to slink back to the other miscreants, but a rather severe-looking woman follows her. "Young woman, a few questions," she asks calmly. "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 a 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?" Her clasped hands are as steady as her voice.
"I... erm... well, you see, Dr. Rohalendi..." Cimri flounders, obviously unprepared for serious questions like this. She turns to the other miscreants, making "I don't know" arms at them.
Wolfgang raises an eyebrow at Eradessa but decides not to argue about the division of spoils here. He snags one of the healing potions and the coin pouch, and looks over the onyxes before stashing them in his pack as well.
"Hmnmm. Somebody else better take a look at these before we try to convert them to coin. We can divide the goods up later. Let's get the last job done."
Wolfgang gives the copper archer - Alisa the Bandit Buster - his habitual one-finger salute, for once not making any effort to hide it. When the crowd starts badgering Cimri with questions, he mops the fevered sweat from his brows, coughs to clear his throat, then growls, "All right, that's enough! These are the Archbaron's proclamations. Most of your questions will be answered in time if you're patient. As for the others, well, you are welcome put your queries into a letter. Just be sure to include your name and address, so that the Archbaron will know where to send his response."
He grins at the crowd, once again showing too many teeth, then somebody steps on his tail and he lets out a high-pitched squeak.
Eradessa smoothly steps between Cimri and the doctor. "Ah, yes! Wise questions from a wise woman! Unfortunately, we are simply messengers doing our duty to the Archbaron, and are not privy to all the particulars of proclamation enforcement. I CAN tell you that the tavern is not exempt from the proclamations limiting group sizes and curfew. All other questions are outside my purview, I'm afraid."
As Wolfgang recommends they send letters, Eradessa nods. "Yes, questions and queries should be delivered to the Archbaron through written letters and legal delivery methods. Letters may also be dropped off at the Sheriff's office in a few days time. Until then, I recommend you adhere to the proclamations to the letter, and keep a growing list of your questions, queries, clarifications, and complaints. One letter with multiple questions is much more likely to be handled in a timely fashion, as opposed to multiple letters with the questions spread around willy-nilly! The Archbaron does not like his time wasted unnecessarily. Think before filing your complaints. Thank you!"
Sounds about right, Sicaria thinks as she notices the previous tax increases.
The good doctor finds a sudden hand on her shoulder as Sicaria appears behind her, eyes deadly serious.
"You'd better stop badgering her, doc, or the logistics of these proclamations aren't gonna be your only problem."
The crowd doesn't seem to notice Wolfgang's attempts at coercion, but the low murmurs swell to angry yells as Sicaria puts her hand on Dr. Rohalendi's shoulder. Several townsfolk start to clump together into larger and larger groups, several of which move to the doctor's aid.
"Yes, terribly sorry, must go, right now," Cimri dances away from her questioner, pulling Sicaria along with her. "I don't know about you, but I've had my fill of angry mobs for the day," she mutters to Eradessa and Wolfgang over the assassin's furry shoulder. "All right, all done here, time to go, don't you think? Yes, I thought so too."
Cimri leads the miscreants around the outskirts of town, giving the crowd the slip at the Arch and Lark pub before heading back to the Ash House. Upstairs, the afternoon sunlight does little to illuminate Razelago's ruined library office, failing even to overpower whatever light casts the thin silhouette on the paper screen.
"Ah, you've returned." The thin voice sounds amused. "Have you delivered the proclamations? I hope you didn't run into any trouble."
Sicaria sighs as she shakes her head in Razelago’s direction.
”’Trouble’ probably isn’t the right word, but people were not happy—folks in this town have a tendency to blame the messenger for the message. Frankly the only one who acted like an adult to the whole thing was the sheriff—er, ex-sheriff.”
"Woo-wee, that's an angry town! Plenty of yelling, grumbling, threats, and some punches thrown. But, it all worked out in the end."
"Is that so?" Razelago chuckles before continuing in a wheezing voice. "You see why I felt this needed to be handled by experts now, don't you. And since you've done such wonderful work - and ahead of schedule even - I've taken the liberty of increasing your pay by half again. You'll find it in the usual place in the parlor downstairs." The silhouette gestures with one arm towards the staircase.
"However, that is not all. May I extend an invitation to all of you to meet me at Scarlet Crown this evening? I would like to introduce you to the archbaron, who I believe has a proposal for you. I'm sure I can count on your attendance."
Sicaria eyes widen in shock. Her mouth hangs open as if she is about to say something, but her moving—more like twitching—lips defeat her as naught but silence exits her throat. After several seconds she finally manages to squeeze out a simple ”E-excuse me?”
"Sure thing, pal! It would be an honour! ...Where is that?"
Wolfgang may be relatively new to Longacre, but he has lived in Cheliax his entire life, and he knows that untitled tieflings simply don't get invited to noble manors.
"Thanks, boss!" He looks down at his threadbare cloak and stained clothes. "Uh, should I get some new clothes?"
"Uh, should I get some new clothes?"
Sicaria horribly hides a strange sound from her throat immediately following Wolfgang’s question. Severe panic washes over her eyes.
"Sure thing, pal! It would be an honour! ...Where is that?"
"Excellent." Razelago's voice sounds amused. "You'll find Scarlet Crown to the southeast, on the outskirts of town."
"Uh, should I get some new clothes?"
"That is entirely up to you, isn't it?"
The silhouette folds its hands behinds the screen. "If there are no other questions I can answer for you, I will see you at Scarlet Crown in a few hours."
"Uh, should I get some new clothes?""That is entirely up to you, isn't it?"
”That’s not an answer!”
Sicaria snaps forcefully at the man behind the screen, shifting her weight forward and leaning toward Razelago, her eyes wild. Recognition followed by embarrassment wash over her face a moment later as she stands back at attention, noticeably fidgeting with her hands behind her back. She looks askance, not looking anyone in the eye, before she speaks weakly.
”A-apologies. I have no more questions, Mr. Razelago.” The woman turns around without looking at anyone. ”If you’ll excuse me.” She then walks away from the room without a second thought and without waiting for anyone.
Whoa! What's eating her? She's not wrong, but if that's the nastiest game this weird boss of ours wants to play with us, it isn't worth getting upset about.
Wolfgang gives Razelago a wry salute. "See you in a bit, boss," then follows Sicaria out, trying to catch up with her in the hall.
"Hey, Sicaria, wait up! What was that all about back there?"
"Hey, Sicaria, wait up! What was that all about back there?"
”Nothing,” Sicaria says while traveling down to the parlor. ”Now shut up and leave me alone.”
Sicaria grabs her share of the pay without so much as counting through it and exits the Ash House without so much as saying another word.
”We’re terribly sorry about that, Mr. Razelago - she’s had a difficult day, I don’t know if you saw the terrible burns on her face from an unprovoked attack, she got hit in the head one too many times, the heat’s getting to her...” Cimri rambles at breakneck pace, her facial features showing the strain of trying to keep her source of income happy. Behind her back, she makes small shooing motions with one hand at Eradessa and Nomed. ”We’llbegoingnowThankyouverymuchforthisopportunitySeeyouinafewhours!”
The miscreants follow Sicaria down the stairs to the parlor. On a table near the cold fireplace are four scarlet leather pouches, which Cimri quickly passes out to everyone. ”Right, we’ve got at least an hour, maybe two,” the ringleader says after a glance out the broken window. ”I can take a load of stuff down to Ol’ Ingoe - anything folks don’t want? Easier to carry around coin than all this armor. Where’re you all headed?”
"Got it! See ya' there!" Eradessa tells Razelago as Cimri drags her from the room.
Once they're downstairs, she checks out her clothes, dusts them off, then gives a curtsy. "I think I'm good." Watching Sicaria stalk off she raises an eyebrow. "Wow, guess she really hates getting dressed up, huh?" With a grin Eradessa shrugs, then she turns to Cimri. "So.... where are we going? Don't think I've ever been to the Scarlet Crown. Is it new?"
Eradessa volunteers to go with Cimri to sell the goods to Ingoe, but has not other goals in mind.
As Cimri and Eradessa split off to Ingoe, they find Sicaria behind the Ash House, furiously chopping a pair of dual-wielded daggers into a lone tree, sweat dripping off of her face.
Wolfgang pulls Cimri aside as they are about to separate for a few hours before the meeting with the Archbaron.
"So I've got enough coin in my pocket to upgrade the, hrrrmmm, tools of my trade. Lockpicks, poisons, scrolls, some alchemical goods - I'm pretty sure I can't pick those up at the little general store on the town square. Any suggestions?"
"Scrolls? Depending on what kind you're looking for, you might ask ol' Ruckleer if he's got some lying around. Be careful though - the old warmage is likely to make your head explode if you provoke him! Or I guess you could try Miss Wilmore, though I don't know what else she has in that house besides cats. Can't stand 'em myself, what with their staring all the time. And there's always one watching you in there.
"Now, poisons and alchemical... Yeah, you'll have better luck at Odmer's Tonics." She waves a hand towards the town. "He'll be somewhere in there - just look for the exploding rainbow imp sign in one of the squares. Only been allowed back in town last year after he brewed that batch of moonshine in Natisha's bathtub that made everyone who tried it sick as a dog.
"And I'll see what Ingoe has as far as lockpicks go when I'm down there." Cimri turns and yells back at Sicaria. "'Ey, lumberjack, you need anything from the docks?"
Wolfgang asks Cimri for directions if needed, then starts with Ruckleer the Warmage.
Increasingly uncomfortable as the road through town becomes a path into the unfamiliar woods, Wolfgang makes his way to Ruckleer's cottage. He pauses to mop the sweat from his face before knocking at the door.
This was a bad idea. I should have asked Sicaria to come with me. Or Eradessa. Or anybody.
The tiefling starts at the man's abrupt greeting, but stands his ground. He holds up his spellbook as if it were a badge of office and blurts, "GoodafternoonIheardyouwereamageandIstudymagicmyself! Iwashopingyoumighthavesomescrollstosell? Oranoldspellbookyouaren'tusing?"
After several minutes, Tealan returns to the front door. "Here, found a few you might find handy. You looking for anything in particular?"
Cimri turns and yells back at Sicaria. "'Ey, lumberjack, you need anything from the docks?"
Sicaria wipes her brow of sweat and sheaths her blades.
”Possibly,” She grabs her cloak and drapes it over her shoulders. ”Mostly concerned about that sabre I requested before. I’ll see what else he’s got.”
She moves past Cimri and Eradessa toward the docks, not taking the time to wait for them to catch up.
After a few seconds, the door flies open and Ingoe smiles at his visitor as if he didn't have a care in the world. "Ah, it's you!" he cries happily, his flushed face slowly returning to its normal coloration. "The young woman looking for sabres! Well, you're not going to believe it, but I was looking through some of my undeliverables yesterday, and I found..." He pauses a moment to dig out a key from his pocket and unlock something Sicaria can't quite see on the other side of the doorframe, then pulls out a sword wrapped in oiled leather. "...this!"
Unwrapped, the sabre gleams brighter than the daylight peaking through the clouds. The blade curves masterfully, intricate channels carved into the barbs that weave their way up to a sturdy hilt of dull, unassuming metal. "Beautiful piece of work, that one," Ingoe comments. "Real shame they couldn't pay the tariffs. But, it does me no good here. I'd be happy to let you take it off my hands for a mere two hundred and fifty platinum. Do we have a deal?" He smiles charmingly and holds out a hand expectantly.
Wolfgang reaches into his pouch and pulls out enough coin to show the man he's serious. When Tealan comes back, the tiefling pages through the scrolls, muttering to himself to cast read magic so he doesn't have to puzzle out the arcane symbols.
Huh. I thought his name was supposed to be Ruckleer. Whatever. Oh, that one looks interesting. I didn't even know half these spells existed! There goes my budget.
"There are a couple here I'm interested in," he growls, more in control of himself. "I don't suppose you've got grease? Or shield?"
”Well, that seems fai—“
Sicaria stops as her hand is reaching toward her coin purse and looks Ingoe in the eye as she folds her arms.
”Excuse me? Did you just say two-fifty platinum?! You’re kidding me!”
Sicaria casts detect magic[/ooc] to get a good look at the sword and [ooc]if it is magic sighs.
”Ingoe, I don’t have that kind of money. A magical sword is way outta my price range. Did you happen to find anything...cheaper? Something like this:” She unsheathes her masterwork sabre to show the man.
Tealan chuckles darkly. "You telling me you don't already know those? If you need those two spells, you don't have time to be pulling out a scroll - not unless you're not too upset over losing your head to some overenthusiastic blowhard." He points at the scrolls. "So, what do you want? And make it quick."
He shakes his grey man of hair sadly. "A shame, though. Don't know how much longer I'll have this beauty - folks down the river might finally pay that tariff and then it'll be out of my hands. Oh well. Anything else you might be interested in?"
Sicaria points an accusatory finger at Ingoe. "And for the record, it's not a common weapon, it's a longsword specially crafted from Mediogalti Island to be complemented when in pairs. And I don't appreciate you insinuating anything else! Or perhaps you'd prefer losing a paying customer?"
"What do I think of your little minions? Uh, serious much? I'm not sure they can even smile. Good thing I'm back. You'd die of boredom without me!"
Eradessa smiles her dimpled grin, clearly enjoying being back to joking with her old friend. Ah, they're alright. Wolfgang's loyal. Sicaria's SO moody though. Got a lot of hang-ups, that girl. But, they'll get the job done. How long have you known them? You friends?"
"Why am I back?! Well, I missed you obviously!" Eradessa giggles again, then continues. "Remember I told you I wanted a way to beat the Bleaching? But, without becoming super gross and undead? Turns out Geb's a great place for that. I became an expert in sanguinistic studies, and had a breakthrough after drinking unicorn blood -- highly recommend that, by the way. Anyway, things were going swimmingly, but there's so many people who want to eat you there, you know? And not in a good way! What was an appetizing little morsel like me to do?" Eradessa gives Cimri a wink, then continues. "So, I packed up and came back here to continue my studies."
After a long moment she adds, "Plus, I was poor. You do NOT want to know what kind of part-time jobs are available for the breathing in Geb! Thanks for fixing that, by the way, my wallet thanks you."
"And you? What's up? What's new? What's shaking?"
"...Or perhaps you'd prefer losing a paying customer?"
Ingoe laugh good-naturedly. "Ah, that's certainly a fine tactic to take when you haven't bought a single thing," he replies, wiping tears from his eyes. "If anything, I am your customer." He bows, looking past the assassin as he straightens. "Speaking of which, I do believe I see your friends bringing more wares to market." He waves, and Sicaria turns to see Eradessa and Cimri walking down the riverbank. The gnome's multicolored hair makes her especially easy to pick out amongst the mud and mossy plants.
"...Uh, serious much? I'm not sure they can even smile."
"Shelyn's spotted knickers, aren't they though?" Cimri sighs heavily, either from the heavy load or from dealing with people. "I needed bodies to take the well-paying jobs, and they were available. Not too bad in a scrap either. But I'm so glad I found you outside Last Stand that night - was that only two nights ago? I'd be pulling my hair out otherwise. And now we're rolling in the dough!"
"... I became an expert in sanguinistic studies, and had a breakthrough after drinking unicorn blood - highly recommend that, by the way."
"I, uh, think I'll pass. And I don't know if you've noticed with your head in the clouds like that, but we're fresh out of unicorns around these parts." Cimri gives Eradessa a playful bump. "Or have you been holding out on me?"
"And you? What's up? What's new? What's shaking?"
She leans over and whispers to the gnome, "I can't wait to get out of this dump. I'm saving up whatever I can, and buying a spot on the next caravan out of town. You want to come with?" She meets Eradessa's gaze, then looks away quickly. "I mean, you don't fit in here either. Don't know why you came back to be honest, but I'm glad you did."
Movement on the dock catches Cimri's eye, and she sighs again. "Why does something tell me we better hurry before our friend there sends the only fence in Longacre down the river?"
"Well, that wasn't too bad," the rogue comments as the trio climbs back up the hill into town. "Gotta say, you all did a mighty fine job softening him up last time." As the Ash House comes back into view, she turns to Sicaria. "Find what you wanted?"
"Find what you wanted?"
Sicaria sneers at Cimri’s question. ”Nothing save our dear Ingoe trying to sell me something I can’t afford.”
Tealan chuckles darkly. "You telling me you don't already know those? If you need those two spells, you don't have time to be pulling out a scroll - not unless you're not too upset over losing your head to some overenthusiastic blowhard." He points at the scrolls. "So, what do you want? And make it quick."
Wolfgang's eyes narrow in irritation. "Not everyone gets handed a spellbook already filled in," he growls. "Some of us start with a book full of blank pages and work out the magic for ourselves, or copy them into our books if we're lucky enough to find them. If you don't have something I can copy those two spells from, just say so. As for these scrolls," he adds, rolling the stack of paper into a tight cylinder, "if you aren't going to try to gouge me on the price, I'll take them all."
Wolfgang glares at the closed door for a moment -- You'll get yours, you arrogant old bastard, and soon -- then carefully puts the scrolls into his pack and begins the long walk back into town.
Time to see what Miss Wilmore has on hand. Besides cats.