Brogol's forehead bunches as he peruses the letter, silently mouthing the words as he stumbles across the words, making notes to look up some words he's ignorant of. Still, the driver gets the gist of Rohalendi's situation.
"I'd not bother with bothering the Archbaron," Brogol says, handing the letter off to the next reader. "He's a busy man, and you're likely to waste the trip. Make sure to look into anything that comes through the dock for Rohalendi. If something is locked, open it. If it is coin, put it aside and let us know. If it is weapons or anything else suspicious, put it aside and let us know. If you get a visit from the hospice, claim ignorance - whatever they seek never arrived - and then let us know. Do these things, and you'll be handsomely rewarded."
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"Now dear, we know each other so well I can practically read your mind. You think we're just trying to discount the value of your tip to gain leverage. Now, your information is good--it's a start--but you can do better, can't you? We both know you can."
She licks her thumb and wipes a little dirt off the dockmaster's cheek. "Now, my love--you know how I feel about toothpicks, and I think you could probably have one as long as you don't put it in your mouth. But let's not quarrel in front of the others."
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The dockmaster clicks his tongue and grins. It's a friendly if slightly unctuous gesture.
If no one else has anything to say to him, he casually pockets the gold and heads down the street... as he slips a toothpick back into his mouth.
Once the dockmaster is nice and far away, the Doctor muses out loud "Well now. Rohalendi is a fine, responsible person. It is quite ze surprise zat she vill be unable to pay her taxes." He adjusts his glasses. "Maybe ve can introduce her to some alternative means of earning an income?"
He mulls it over for a moment before reflecting on what he knows of Rohalendi's character.
While Erie and the doctor have the dockmaster’s attention Vaelor quietly slips around behind him and stands close enough that when he turns to leave she is right in his face.
”I’m so glad to make a new friend! I’m sure this relationship will be nothing but friendly.”
She smiles warmly, though as ever there is something a little off about it. ”Of course if you break little Eris’ heart I’ll cut off that which is dearest to you and make you eat it.”
Ingoe pauses slightly, seemingly unperturbed by Vaelor's appearance or the threat... and smiles. "Aw, I should hope not. The splinters could be painful." With a wink, he walks away.
and delivering a variety of balms and poultices to others about town—richly rewarding but far from profitable, and she’s recently had to let go of her only assistant. Despite various small fundraising events, it seems (based on the letter) she is struggling to make ends meet.
She has a reputation as a kind-hearted soul, but reasoned, pragmatic and not prone to vituperative outbursts.
"And, perhaps you can tell us as well, what you've heard about us down on the docks?"[/b]
"Just a bit of this and that. Mostly you're working for the archbaron and trying to make Longacre a more respectable place. As a loyal citizen of the Empire and a fan of the Archbaron's, I just want to offer my own meager assistance."
Brogol watches the dockmaster leave, marveling at how difficult to read the man is. It is the prop, Brogol decides; it distracts from the face and obvious tells.
Note to self - buy toothpicks!
Turning to the others, Brogol scratches the everpresent stubble on his neck. "Three hundred is a lot of money. Could be she's in debt, could be a front for something else. We need to find out. Obvious place to start is the Archbaron's tax man. Have her taxes been raised, and if so, how much?"
"If it is an honest debt, I suggest we raise the issue with Fex. Bankrupting the hospice isn't going to pay enough coin for the amount of people is pisses off."
Looking back at the police station, a small frown crosses Brogol's countenance. Deputies would be useful for small investigations like this. Where's the Archbaron's men?
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Eris watches her new love leave. "Did anyone catch his name?" she asks.
As Brogol discusses the hospice, she says "Sure--let's look into this. It seems like something that could help us. Maybe. Ha! Do we know who the tax man is?"
Eris prances over to Vaelor and starts up a quiet conversation.
"So, I've been watching you. I like the way you think. I've been trying to work with the doctor to be 'normal,' but so far he hasn't told me all that much to try. You're probably the most normal person I know. I'm guessing the doctor is trying to turn me into you. Do you want to give me some tips on things I can try?"
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"Three hundred is a lot of money."
The Doctor is silent for a moment "Hm, it is, I suppose. Rather significant for what amounts to little more than a nurse for ze elderly. I am left to ponder ze use she had for that money. Let us bring it to the Archbaron and his pet devil. Perhaps they vill shed some light for us."
When he overhears Eris' conversation with Vaelor, the Doctor decides to intervene before anything unpleasant happens. "Ah, Eris. While I would not usually interfere in an observational period, I would be remiss not to inform you that that one is far from normal. In fact, she is little more than a physical manifestation of good mister Karik's violent sexual perversions. Please, please look to someone more even-minded if you will. Someone like..." The Doctor peers through his glasses at each member of the group in turn, grimacing at each until he finally settles helplessly on Ingrid.
"Ah, well, Ingrid here is an upstanding, law abiding, citizen, if a little quick to anger. As good of a role model as you can hope to obtain, in zis current situation."
Ingrid smiled at that. A real smile, though probably still threatening. ”Always thought that the Doktor was smart. Now I know that he’s a good judge of character too.”
Vaelor turns on the doctor, chains unwrapping themselves and lashing the air around her as she advances.
She hisses, voice full of quiet intense rage. "I am NOT merely a manifestation of my master's ANYTHING. I like what I like. I am my own person with my own goals, ideals, annddd desires!"
She turns back to Eris and places a caring hand on her chest.
"Don't let him turn you into anything you don't want to be. You want my advice? Work out what makes you happy, what brings you joy. Once you know what that is, make it happen. At the moment you jump from idea to idea. That leaves you scattered and weak. Focus your passions, your lust. Focus it and use it."
She gives Eris a kiss on the check then, her lips lingering, whispers.
"You are special and you are beautiful. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. If you need ideas for thing to bring you joy we can talk later."
While Vaelor confronts the Doctor directly Karik moves quietly up behind him and places his hands on the doctors shoulders.
"You just made my little one upset. Don't do that again. I am thirsty, don't make me angry too."
Raziya slides in with a warm smile. "I'm quite certain that the good doctor merely misspoke, did you not? In any case we've just found a great gift of leverage on someone tied to the hearts of the community. Why would we want to spend our energies on a simple misunderstanding."
Ingrid shook her head at the theatrics, inwardly glad to know that they were all proving the doktor right.
This isn't the first time that the Doctor has had to deal with patients reacting with anger to a simple statement of truth. Deep rooted psychological issues were difficult to address, after all. He chides himself mentally.
The Doctor places a reassuring hand atop Karik's on his shoulder. "I understand. There is no need to rush things until you yourself are ready to face these topics, including your particular fixation."
Keen to help his potential patient move on, he switches topics "I fear Rohalendi may be quick to call on ze Church instead of ze true leadership of zis town. And I expect ze Sword Knight vill jump to help as a means of expanding her own influence. Whatever ze Archbaron says, ve should act quickly."
The archbaron's house guard typically collects the taxes on a quarterly basis, with collection of the past due amounts generally falling upon the sheriff for enforcement. Wenbrade Brakenbol, the local notary, keeps the ledger on amounts owed.
A small contingent of the archbaron's house guard can be seen coming down the street from the general direction of the Scarlet Crown. They're not marching in any particular formation and engage in quiet, casual conversation between themselves, but wear the well-cared for attire you saw when meeting the archbaron.
Their sergeant sees you are in a conversation and keeps introductions brief, "Afternoon. The Archbaron has sent us to help you with keeping the peace. I have a team already on the streets and the rest of us will setup in the jail for now. Let me know if you have any particular requests for how I assign the men."
They head into the jail, and you hear Cimri good-naturedly call out, "Candro! I've missed you... Can you puh-lease kill the loud-mouthed bastard in back?" There is a bit of laughter before the conversation becomes more muted as the guards settle into the jail.
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Eris laughs as her conversation with Vaelor causes chaos in the group.
"This is a test! I knew it!" she says excitedly.
"Who would I think is the most normal?! Who would the doctor think I would think is the most normal?! And who would the doctor think I would think I would think is the most normal?! Point taken. Point taken, indeed!"
As the conversation winds down, she whispers to Vaelor. "I still think you were the right answer. Hehe."
As the Archbaron's guard makes its way into town, she bows theatrically. "You may want to have a few guards keep eyes on the church. Strange things are afoot there, I would swear to it. Inhospitality. Sword Knights that no one can meet. Public urination," she adds.
"Ah, hello sergeant." the Doctor gives the public servant a cool nod. "Could you please not kill the loud mouthed- ahem- bastard, in the back? He is to be an example, not to be a martyr." He shakes his head at Cimri while she can't see him.
"Otherwise, I am glad to see that someone reliable is taking over. This group is not, how would you call it-" He wiggles his hand as he searches for the right word. "-public safety experts?"
Ingrid chuckled at the turn of phrase. ”Aye, glad to have ye lot here. I’m sure the public will be more at ease at the sight of ye.”
As he passes through, the sergeant nods respectfully, "Aye, no problem. I'll send a pair over to Church Square... and no killings 'less there's a disturbance or trial."
From in back: "Aw, for the love of Cayden's tankard, let me out of here!"
[ooc]So, letter from the doctor, and Caggan making noise but able to be ignored for now... What next?[/b]
"Send a man to Brakenbool," Brogol says, making sure not to ask. "Have the tax collector write down his information on what Rohalendi - the hospice nurse - owes in taxes, both her and her business. This is the top priority."
The Doctor studiously ignores Caggan as he offers to the rest of the team "Perhaps we should speak with Mister Brakenbol personally regarding these debts, before we reach out to Rohalendi. It would be good to have a clear understanding of her situation before presenting any offers to her, yes? Ah, and while we are there, ze notary can examine the ledgers for any other delinquent citizens..."
"Aye, that's much better. Nevermind, sarge. We'll take this one ourselves."
A light gleams behind Raziya's eyes at the idea of getting a close look, and possibly some source documents for the notary's hand. "Agreed, far better if we can control as much of the flow of information as possible."
The Doctor places a reassuring hand atop Karik's on his shoulder. "I understand. There is no need to rush things until you yourself are ready to face these topics, including your particular fixation."
”If you really want to help I have an idea.” Karik speaks softly and slowly running his tongue across his teeth.
- - - -
”Let make our move, may as well get too it. Where will we find this notary?” Karik stands and makes to walk towards the street.
Vaelor makes her way to the back of the jail.
She presses herself up against the bars of Caggan’s cell.
”Hi sweetie! You need to stop making such a fuss. The master and his friends are just working out what needs to be done with you. You were a bit naughty...”
She gives Caggan a look that starts apologetic but as a smile spreads across her face it quickly turns unnerving.
”You see, nothing you say will get you out any quicker but if you keep being rude I’ll come in there.”
Back in the jail, Caggan glowers at Vaelor and looks like he might be about to invite her in, then glances past her towards the sudden influx of guardsmen. "You'd be in over your head, girly. Without those chains, you're just another bat from Egorian... or Westcrown... or wherever." He waves dismissively, then goes to sit.
The Notary's office is, quite literally, across the street and takes no time to find. The single-story brick building has faded paint around the trim and the windows have iron bars. An old slate roof covers the top, and a sign swings from a post reading:
Longacre Notary
W. Brakenbol, Esq.
You step inside to the smell of parchment and ink. Light comes in through the windows and is aided by several crystal lamps. A wizened man well into his years sits at a desk, his fingers stained with ink.
He looks up as you enter with a pinched brow, squinting his eyes ever so slightly as the additional sunlight streams in, then says, "Ah, this looks like an official visit of some sort. To what do I owe the pleasure?" His voice is thin and raspy. Perhaps because of those qualities, it doesn't sound particularly welcoming, but neither is it hostile.
A wild-whiskered brow arches over a cold-grey eye; it's hard to say whether it's amusement, interest or irritation. Perhaps all three. "Indeed? He slowly leans back, the antique chair creaking beneath his old bones, as he steeples his fingers before him. "A good word with the Archbaron? By all means, continue, I am all ears." Indeed, from the stray hairs poking from his amply-sized ears, it's a phrase with particular resonance with the odd, old man.
"Ahh, good afternoon to you Mister Brakenbol." The Doctor nods to the older man, already being somewhat familiar with him thanks to his clinic's own taxes and expenses needing to be notarized. "Indeed, zer is some work we are doing on the Archbaron's behalf. Investigating into those who are experiencing... difficulties with keeping up with their financial obligations."
"We would like to confirm the tax information for one particular individual. Would you allow us to check your records?" He adjusts his glasses. "It would be a great deal of a help for our work. And of course, for the Archbaron."
"Ah, Doctor Zieber, welcome." He looks past Eris and Franz as some of the others enter as well, then focuses his gaze back on the doctor. "I am, of course, happy to accommodate the Archbaron's agents. Do you have the necessary writ?"
Brogol pulls his cloak aside, tapping one gloved finger against the Archbaron's sash. "Official business," Despite his intention to sound pleasant enough, Brogol frowns as his voice conveys a hint of annoyance. "We'll need information about the citizen's business as well."
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"Hmph," Brakenbol replies. It is at once dismissive and amused. "Such a pretty sash in such a dark and dull office, hmm. Do you think I do not know who you are or the capacity in which you are here, Master Stokl? Who do you think drafted the edicts you posted the other day, authorized you to act as the Archbaron's agents... and stamped them with his seal?" The last is uttered in a sharper tone with much less amusement. "As his agents, you assuredly understand this, so perhaps there is a simple misunderstanding as to my own relationship with the Archbaron and who might be putting in a good word for whom..."
He casually leaned forward then reached to his side, opening a drawer and drawing a piece of parchment from a file. Closing that drawer, he opened another and withdrew a lockbox, which he opened with a key from a chain strung from his waist, taking out stick of crimson-colored wax and stamp, setting both on his desk, before lighting a candle.
As he went through these movements, he continued with the same raspy voice, "As you know, this is a nation of laws, for without laws, we are naught more than animals like those you might shoot in the Whisperwood and eat for dinner. But, if you wish to keep flopping your phallus about on my desk to impress upon me its size, by all means, continue..."
"Otherwise," he pauses, as he completes his preparation and looks up at you... "If you'd like to actually see someone's taxes, you need the necessary paperwork. That happens to be a writ. Which, conveniently, you can procure from the notary of Longacre, who was entrusted with that position by Darellus Fex, Archbaron of Longacre. And that individual happens to be..." he furrows his brow in a display of dramatic thought, then looks as if he's had an epiphany, "Well, how convenient for you... it's me."
"The necessary writ will cost five gold, with a surcharge of five gold for legal and expert advice on navigating the Chelish bureaucracy." He rested his hands on the prepared desk before you and arched a whiskered brow, "Shall we proceed, or is additional advice required?"
"Can't say I'm done flopping me phallus on yer desk." Ingrid said, with a swish of her tail. "Seems to me that we should be working together. For I'm sure ye know that there's a revolution brewing in this town. Foreign instigators, but it'll be locals out for blood. Blood from the tax collectors. Blood from those posting unpopular edicts. Blood from those enforcing them. Sure, it'll be put down right proper after it breaks out. But the damage will be done. Whomever comes here next will certainly need to wash the blood off of their desk." She said all of this with a smile. "And ye know that our job is to root this out. But can ye imagine what'd happen if we *don't* find the instigators, and it turns out it's because we couldn't afford the 'legal and expert advice'? Now, ye make it clear that ye know the Archbaron more than us. Mayhaps he's a forgiving sort? The kind who goes 'Oh aye! Ye made a handful of coins and we lost the town. Ah well. It happens to the best of us. Don't worry about the cost of retaking it. I'm just happy that ye made it out of there in one piece, unlike the rest of the poor sods." She finished her talk and then added "Anyways, that's enough of me phallus for right now, eh?"
Karik suddenly laughs heartily
”That IS convenient. Oh Ingrid don’t bother. This man is on our side, and from the sounds it he’s got plenty to flop on to the table.”
Karik moves past his friends and sits on the edge of the desk.
”Please excuse my friends, we’ve been dealing with some interesting types lately.”
Karik gets out his coin purse and places two stacks of 5 coins on the desk.
”One for now and the other for next time cause I doubt this is the last time we will need a hand from you.”
Raziya gives a very precisely warm smile and adds, "I assume, of course, that there is some sort of receipt for these fees?"
Brogol closes his cloak, a smile slowly spreading across his face, before doffing his hat in a sign of respect. It was good to meet another servant of the Archbaron.
"Forgive me, Master Brakenbol. I'm no learned man, and I've never had the cause, nor means, to use a nutary. We're happy to hear the Archbaron has yer services."
Brogol pauses, and perhaps because of Brakenbol's self-satisfied demeanor, the driver can't help but finish with a slight dig.
"Archbaron never mentioned yer though. Probably figured your importance would be self-evident. Anyways, now we've got the writ in hand, can we see yer books?"
The Doctor chuckles dryly, without any humor, both at Brakenbol's straightforward matter-of-fact statements, and at his team's responses. "Thank you Mister Brakenbol. It is always a pleasure when someone is willing to make their position and desires clear for all to see." He nods in approval when Karik simply goes ahead and drops coins on the table. "I am happy to split that with you Karik."
When Brogol barrels ahead to insulting the notary, he allows himself the slightest sigh.
Brackenbol looked like he was about to give another round of advice -- billable -- in reply to Ingrid when Karik stepped forward to pay the tab and the others reset the proverbial table. A thin smile came to his lips and he nodded in satisfaction.
"I'm glad to see the Archbaron's trusted agents appreciate the importance of the Chelish bureaucracy, even in a backwater such as this." He took the coins, dropped them into the lockbox, then proceeded to fill in the necessary portions of the writ. He signed it in his capacity as the notary of Longacre and applied the waxen seal of the Archbaron. Judging it complete, he then returned it to his file drawer without ever even presenting it to you.
He then also drafts a receipt, and hands it to Raziya with a grin, "Smart lass."
Leaning back in his chair once again, he announced, "Your paperwork is in order. Whose taxes do you wish to peruse?"
He stands up and moves about the small office with surprising nimbleness for someone of his apparently advanced years and sedentary life. After a few moments, he places a pair of ledgers on a spare table and opens them to some particular pages. "Indeed, it appears she is past due on a substantial sum. The previous sheriff seemed to be rather lax in its collection, even though I told her several times. You'll see records of those notifications in the other ledger. I must say, I hope you'll be more diligent in your duties than she was."
He leaves the books opened and returns to his chair, an implicit invitation for you to inspect the ledgers at your leisure. "Let me know if there are other questions I can answer for you."
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Eris maintains a genuine grin during the entire encounter and bats her eyes at Brackenbol.
"Why, you are the most adorable thing I've seen since that little baby-fly hybrid. I was briefly engaged, but I've called it off. I love all your attention to detail and the ruley-rule follower, stamp all the correct forms, let us know what we can and can't do at all times persona! What would the world do without you!?!? I, for one, know I couldn't function at all! Can we take you with us? You can have my share of the pay--just to be near you!"
The Doctor nods and heads directly over to the ledgers to begin paging through. He searches quickly and with purpose to find if anyone else is particularly past due on their taxes, asking any questions to Brackenbol if the ledger is difficult to decipher. "Hmmm... you keep excellent records."
After a moment he adds "I admit I'm quite curious. You must have had quite a few interactions with ze previous sheriff. What, would you say your general impression of her was? I recently learned she left in quite ze huff, having been relieved of her position. Would you say she was someone capable of harboring... seditious thoughts?"
Brackenbol affects a sorrowful look in response to Eris, ”Sadly, my duties to the Archbaron are such I must remain here, available to the citizens, merchants and officials. But I imagine an adventure with you would be one of the more interesting experiences one could possibly have, Lady Rosala.”
The doctor finds references to a past due amount for one J. Louslik, with a notation on the side, “Deceased; lien filed against est.” There are a handful of others, but the amounts are fairly small.
”The former sheriff, Ms. Staelish, is an interesting woman.” He looks up at the ceiling for a moment as he considers his words, then says, ”I thought she had a disturbing lack of interest in enforcing the law, picking and choosing the ones she wanted to enforce and against whom. As for seditious proclivities...” He pauses as his brows draw tight over his eyes in an expression of contempt, and his next words had a scalpel-like edge to them, ”I would watch her closely.”
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The Doctor pages through again, a little disappointed that there aren't other vulnerable individuals to uncover. As he does, he comments to the rest of the team "Where is Ms. Staelish? She appears to be a loose end of sorts, mmm. Considering Mister Brackenbol's impression of her character, I believe we should keep her activities and location in mind as we go. Not that she is under suspicion of anything, of course." He nods to the notary. "Just being... careful."
Setting the ledger aside, the Doctor inclines his head. "Thank you for your official assistance."
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Brackenbol affects a sorrowful look in response to Eris, ”Sadly, my duties to the Archbaron are such I must remain here, available to the citizens, merchants and officials. But I imagine an adventure with you would be one of the more interesting experiences one could possibly have, Lady Rosala.”
Eris stops short as Brackenbol addresses her as Lady Rosala. She had long-since discovered that if anyone addressed her by the name of her house, they knew her father, the nationalistic Archcount Innistrad Rosala.
Raising an eyebrow at the man, she says "Since I'm not from here, not many know I'm a Rosala," she says.
"Do you simply horde information as delightfully as you do rules and procedure, or did you know my father?" she asks.
Unconsciously, she pulls the skull from her belt and holds it where it can get a better look of Brackenbol.
"I'm passably familiar with all of you," the notary replied to Eris, leaning back in his chair as his eyes widen just slightly in a look of mild surprise. "I thought I was fairly clear about my relationship with the Archbaron and completing the necessary paperwork for all of you. After all, you're not some degenerate vigilantes; there was paperwork that had to be filed."
Brogol looks over the shoulders of the others, feigning mild disinterest, though the truth is probably apparent to his companions that the ledger would make little sense to the driver. He perks up when talk of Rhona surfaces, but otherwise remains silent.
"Staelish? She just... left. As to where she is now, I couldn't say. She can't be happy to be relieved of her duties. It is wise to keep tabs on her."