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"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."
"Alright," she says, lowering the skull when it's evident the notary doesn't know her father.
"So you're more like a stalker--I understand that like you wouldn't believe," she says. "I spent a few months in solitary for--well, I won't bore you with the details." She stifles a giggle.
"Well, when was the last date of a visit to the hospice? I'm sure another is in order today."
"Hmm." the Doctor frowns at Brogol's answer. "Well I plan to put zat wisdom into action. I vill meet up with you all at the Hospice."
He gives a little bow to the notary "Good day to you" and heads on out.
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Rather concerned that the ex-Sheriff will need to be dealt with sooner rather than later, the Doctor spends a couple of hours asking around town to see who might have seen her last, and where she has been staying. He particularly looks to get people's impressions of her mental state and any individuals she's been associating with.
"Ah," Brackenbol said vaguely to Eris's reference to stalking before jotting a small note to himself. He then smiled and nodded to the doctor as he and the others departed. "To her Infernal Majestrix," he said, offering a more formal farewell before returning to his work.
The hospice is on the west side of town . It appears to have once been a private house. A large porch wraps around the home, with a few rocking chairs, one of which is occupied by an old gentleman with a shawl over his lap.
The once bright white paint has faded and begun to flake and peel, showing the graying wood beneath. The front door has some beveled glass, a reminder of the home's grander days. The door is closed and next to it is a hand-painted sign:
Longacre Hospice
G. Rohalendi
The man on the porch seems to hear your approach but as he squints through rheumy eyes you can tell he has trouble seeing. He calls out in a cheerful enough tone, "Afternoon to you... or is it morning? I'm not quite sure, but good day to you. You, uh, looking for the doctor?"
Catching up with the rest of the team at the Hospice, the Doctor speaks to the man rather patiently "Afternoon indeed. Pleasure to meet you. Doctor Zieber." He leans down and picks up the fellow's hand to give it a shake. "We're here to speak with Ms. Rohalendi. If she's in." He refrains from correcting the fellow on the fact that Rohalendi is less of a doctor and more more of a nurse, or physician's assistant, at best.
Earlier, the doctor asked about town and heard little but what he did hear was disconcerting. Nobody claimed to have seen the sheriff since her sacking. She apparently collected a few items from her home, and hasn't been seen since, and there were conflicting reports about which direction she went.
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Eris either walks ahead of the others, or alternatively behind, occasionally picking flowers or watching a butterfly. She seems to follow whatever catches her attention, often laughing to herself or having hushed conversations with the skull she carries.
When they arrive at the hospice, she kneels next to the old man.
"Hi, I'm Eris. Hehe. What's your name?"
Ingrid held back, knowing that her appearance alone would lessen their chances of having a good first impression.
Raziya feels a brief pang in her occasionally beating heart as she looks at the old man, but quickly quashes it before speaking.
"How many people dwell here, sir? We want to avoid any unpleasant surprises."
Instead of answering the old man - who seems to be infirm and of little threat - Brogol surveys the building, looking for entrances and exits, and noting the general dilapidation of the hospice, which certainly seems to support Rohalendi's tax situation.
Not yet resigned to resigning himself that everything is what it appears to be, Brogol looks over the building again.
The Doctor shares what he's learned about the Sheriff - precious little. He suggests "Perhaps this is ze kind of thing for which we tap ze Dockmaster."
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The man looks generally in Eris's direction but seems to have a little trouble focusing on her, "Ah, Eris. That's a lovely name. I'm Nicarius, or just Nico. Nice to meet you. And Doctor, uh, Zy-ber? Are you going to help Dr. Rohalendi? It's been just herself since Crasia left."
Then Raziya chimes in and he shifts his attention again, "How many people, you say? Why, me, the doctor, and four others. Awful lot of you to be helping, but that's great. I thought we'd been forgotten. I, uh..."
He pauses, then says, "The doc is inside, I think... haven't heard her leave, anyway. I'm sure she'll be glad for your help. Light be with you."
Brogol nods at Zieber's suggestion. "Aye, that's a good idea. Perhaps we can put some disinformation into the community as well? Sow confusion, maybe flush her out of hiding? We can start with the docks and our contacts at the Arch & Lark."
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Striding up to the porch, Brogol opens the door to the hospice for the others, momentarily slipping back into his role as coachman. Were he aware of it, he'd be upset with himself; however, Stokl's mind is focused elsewhere, chewing over what he knows about this Crasia.
Brogol looks about the building and sees a large house that has seen better days. Paint is peeling and faded, boards on the front porch creak and sag, shingles are missing from the roof, and so on. There is a side and back door, both closed, but several windows are open to allow a breeze through the house.
Crasia is a local peasant who had been working as Rohalendi's assistant until a couple months ago. Since then, she's been making due washing laundry and other odd jobs around town.
"Yes, certainly, ve are from ze government, and ve are here to help." He pats the fellow's shoulder reassuringly. "Is Rohalendi treating you vell? Anything you have complaints about? Anything I can do for you?"
"Oh, I'd heard that Crasia had left the hospice," Brogol chimes in, voice pleasant and reassuring. "But honestly I never understood why. She seemed like such a good fit here. Strange, isn't it?"
Brogol leaves the implied question hanging, trusting that the old man would be happy to divulge anything pertinent, as the old and infirm are often willing to do, having little but conversation to occupy their time.
"Yes, certainly, ve are from ze government, and ve are here to help."
"Ah, well, you'd be the first then," he says with a hint of bitterness but it passes.
"Is Rohalendi treating you vell? Anything you have complaints about? Anything I can do for you?"
"Oh, she treats us quite well, as well as she can anyway, thank you. And unless you can give me my eyesight or my youth back, I'm afraid I'm just getting old."
"Oh, I'd heard that Crasia had left the hospice," Brogol chimes in, voice pleasant and reassuring. "But honestly I never understood why. She seemed like such a good fit here. Strange, isn't it?"He turns his head towards Brogol, leaning a bit to the side, and says, "Oh, she's a nice girl, Miss Crasia, but Doctor Rohalendi said she couldn't afford her any longer and didn't feel right keeping her around, she kept volunteering, sweet child."
Eris pats Nico on the shoulder. "Are all the patients here as handsome as you? If so, be still my heart," she says. "Hehe."
Leaning over the old man, she says "So--does anything unusual happen around here? I mean, like people coming or going that don't belong here?"
He chortles and chuckles, patting Eris's hand. "Oh, you're a charmer, you must be real nice, miss. But no, you all would be the only new folks to come by in a while."
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Ingrid bit her tongue when Erie was called a charmer. Not literally, of course, as if she did then she wouldn’t have had a tongue anymore. In part out of jealousy for the woman’s confidence in flirting with every man they came across. Her claws unconsciously twitched as the image of the man lying on the floor, bleeding out, crossed her mind. She smirked at the image, but held her peace, glad that the others were getting the information without the need to resort to such methods.
The Doctor offers an apologetic frown "As it does for us all."
He heads on into the building proper in search of Rohalendi, intending to ask her what she hopes to accomplish for this one and the other elderly individuals in her care.
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He heads on into the building proper in search of Rohalendi, intending to ask her what she hopes to accomplish for this one and the other elderly individuals in her care.
The front door squeaks as you enter. On the other side is a long hallway going to the back of the house with stairs going up, and doors and archways going off the rooms. A parlor of some sort is on the left and a living room to the right. Everything is clean but the furniture is threadbare, curtains are frayed and one table with a broken leg has been propped up with books.
An older woman missing her right-leg below the knee sits in the living room and looks up when you enter. Her eyes are functioning a bit better than Nico's as she was reading a book.
"Ah, you're the voices I heard outside." It's a fairly neutral observation, then she turns her head towards the back of the house and yells, "Doctor! You seem to have some visitors!" She then returns to her book, not bothering to introduce herself or converse with you.
From the back, you here the sound of some dishes followed by, "One moment!" Footsteps echo from the back of the house and emerging from a doorway in the back is the woman most of you will remember from when you posted the Archbaron's edict in the Church Square, Doctor Rohalendi. When she sees you, she looks genuinely puzzled but puts on a smile, "Ah, this is a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Brogol passes the old woman by, barely sparing her a glance. Nodding along as Eris speaks, he continues, vague until they can get somewhere more private. "We may be able to help. What you do here is vital for our community."
Rohalendi looks over the lot of you, then nods to Eris and Brogol. She still seems a little confused by all this, but says, "Yeah, alright. Follow me, please. Be a little cramped, though." She turns around and leads you towards the back of the house and into the kitchen. She gestures towards the door behind you. "What exactly is it? I haven't done anything wrong; I was just asking questions."
The Doctor steeples his hands in front of him. "No, not at all. In fact, you have been doing everything quite right. Your verk here in Longacre is valuable. Who else would care for these poor folk if you did not?" He looks back toward the front part of the house. "We recently learned that you are in a tight spot monetarily. That you've had to let go of your assistant, Crasia, and that you've been behind on your taxes. Now zat there is a new sheriff, I suspect there may be more aggressive enforcement of these overdue payments." He lets the statement hang in the air ominously for a few moments before taking on a mild, reassuring air.
"However, I can think of nothing more tragic than for your years of noble effort to be ended over something so trivial." He raises a hand the adjust his glasses "No, upon learning of your predicament, ve agreed that something needed to be done to help you. Ve plan to raise ze issue with ze Archbaron. I believe there is a very good argument that your work here is a civic good and should be funded, at least in part, by ze government."
"In Qadira, ze medical institutions often have patrons providing funding, such that their invaluable services can reach those who are unable to pay for themselves." He pauses "And it should be no different here, don't you think?"
Brogol nods approvingly at the Doctor's fine speech. Although Rohalendi's motivations were foreign to Brogol - why would anyone undertake a life's work such as her's, willingly none-the-less? - the driver could appreciate that she would see a lifeline when it was on offer.
"The sanitariums of Ustalav are funded in part by the government too," Brogol adds. "At least if The Leipstadt Asylum pennies are accurate.
”Aye.” Ingrid spoke up. ”Everyone knows that ye care for anyone who needs it, and don’t make nearly enough for yer work. Bet ye’d have made an easy living with yer skills if ye didn’t help those who couldn’t pay. The town needs folk like that. Just like it needs people brave enough to ask questions. I know that rabble rousers are trying to pain this in a bad light.” She ran a clawed finger down her sash. ”But we’re here because we care about this town as well. We’re all after the same thing, eh?”
Zieber's words are reasonable but Rohalendi seems initially very reluctant to accept any "funding" from the archbaron or the Chelish regime. Indeed, she seems quite skeptical. While Eris tries to convey empathy, it lands a bit oddly, though Ingrid's words seem to push Rohalendi into a more cooperative mindset. She sighs deeply then leans back against a kitchen hutch, covering her face with her hands for a moment as she collects herself.
When she looks back up, there is an air of relief and even hope about her. "I... I'm honestly surprised. I thought I was going to be jailed if I couldn't pay and now, you're offering this, and I..." Her voice trails off as she shakes her head in bewilderment. "Is this real? Would it just be a forgiveness of the taxes, or something more? Not to be greedy, mind you, I'm just trying to understand what we're talking about here."
The Doctor nods "We cannot make any promises, of course. This is all still contingent on our group being able to convince ze Archbaron of your Hospice's value to the community. But if all proceeds to plan, you will evade jail and be given a stipend by ze state to continue your operations."
He pauses to allow Rohalendi to collect herself "Should ze Archbaron not be interested, for whatever reason, ve can talk again. There may be other ways to ensure zat the Hospice remains viable."
It wouldn't be accurate to say Rohalendi was on the verge of tears, but there is a bit of extra moisture in one of her eyes as she smiles. "Even this is more hope than I had a day ago. I'll pray the Archbaron listens to your advice. Thank you, all of you. If you can do this, let me know if there's anything I can do to help you."
She steps up to shake Zieber's hand, then looks at the others. "I'm sorry. I'm ashamed to say I may have misjudged you. Given what Allamar said, poor Louslik, the deputies, well... I thought you might just be a bunch of thugs." She smiles a bit sheepishly, embarrassed by the admission.
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Eris wipes away tears of her own.
"This has been--so good for all of us. I can feel a lot of healing happening. We will see what we can do. No guarantees yet, but we will do all we can."
She gives the woman an awkward hug.
"Now, as you know, we're trying to make sure people in town follow the law, and some, like the sheriff, have not. I'm sure it goes without saying that you'll be following laws, and help us with anyone who doesn't?"
The Doctor purses his lips at Eris' theatrics. To Rohalendi he says "There is nothing you need to do expect keep up your fine care. Ze new sheriff will handle ze law breakers and such." After a pause he adds "Whether or not ve are a bunch of thugs as you say, ve can still care about our town. Yes?"
He leans back, letting the others say any last points, hoping that no one will damage the small bead of trust that he had worked to establish.
Rohalendi nods in understanding with appreciation and is about to respond when there is an enormous raucous from the front of the house.
A female voice: "Hey, you can't just barge in here like..."
A panting male voice: "His agents... the archbaron's... where are they!?"
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Eris tries to contain her glee at the conflict erupting, but maintains a concerned face any time Rohanlini faces her.
"Archbaron's agents--Archbaron's agents--why does that sounds familiar? Oh, yeah! That's me!"
She walks casually toward the front of the house.
This is fun, Dad! Showtime!
"Hello? Is someone calling for us?"
A quick snarl escapes Brogol - so close to turning Rohalendi into a useful idiot! - and he turns on his heel to follow Eris, one hand reaching into his cloak to rest atop his shortsword's hilt. "Oi! What's the problem then, you in such a hurry to be panting like a dog?"
"Ah, we're being called for. Good day Rohalendi." The Doctor nods, points some of the party members to the back door, and then walks through to follow Brogol and Eris. He crosses his arms, preemptively displeased at the sound of the man's voice.
As Eris, Brogol and the others return to the hall and front of the house, they see one of the archbaron's guards. However, not only is he breathless, his armor has been rent asunder as if by a beast's claws and a deep gash runs across his abdomen, still leaking blood over skin turned pale. "M'lady, lords... Caggan, we need help, he's turned into a... a beast..."
"Oh." The Doctor rushes to the side of the guard, immediately applying a bandage from his field kit to the sound to stop the bleeding.
"Where is zis beast that was once Caggan?" He raises his voice "If it is on the loose, it is our responsibility to help protect ze town."
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Eris raises an eyebrow at this revelation.
"Dad, I think I'm going to need your help on this one. Hehe! Let's make it easier for you to see," she says.
She casts dancing lantern, and the skull begins floating and shedding light like some macabre stage trick.
"When you say a beast--what kind of beast? Four-footed? Domestic? Bovine? Or more like a critter? These are important distinctions. Ha!"
Ingrid raised her eyebrows in surprise. ”Quite some claws there.” She muttered. Then a slight smile crept onto her face as she realized that this was an excuse to kill the boor of a man.
The worst of the guardsman's pain seems to fade from his visage as the doctor tends to his wounds, though he does wince a few times as the bandages are applied. "At the jail... He wouldn't shut up. Staelish, she said to gag him and move him to the stocks. Soon as we opened the cell, he... he... he changed and charged us. Candro clubbed him in the head and Staelish stabbed him in the gut, but he just shrugged it off like it was nothin'..."
He winced again, then continued, "Like a boar, m'lady, but a man, too. Cimri said she'd hold him but sent me to get help."
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Eris smiles.
"Well, I've never been on a boar hunt before! Haha, let's go! This reminds me of when six piglets got loose from my cousin's pen on a rainy night, and we spent hours trying to catch those muddy piglets! Let's go!"
Her father's skull watches the scene passively, floating by Eris's shoulder and giving off eerie light.
"Yes. And..." She turned to the man. "Good job. If he had gotten out then who knows how many people he would have killed. Stay here and rest up, ye've earned it. We'll go put the monster down."
"Then we go." The Doctor looks a little pale at the description of Candro's ferocity, but is reassured by the confidence of the rest of the team.
He steps back into the Hospice and asks Rohalendi to help tend to the man's wounds if possible and then he begins striding after Ingrid and Eris. While the group is making its way back to the jail, he calls out (while out of breath) "Let us hope ze Staelish girl is more tenacious than she looks, or there will be little to fight and a corpse or two to clean up after we arrive."
Cimri!
One thought floods Brogol's mind - that of his friend's safety - and Brogol's off, sprinting towards the jail as fast as his legs can carry him, gone before the others can finish their thoughts.
Drawing his shortsword, Brogol shoulders the door and pushes into the jail, huffing from the exertion, sword raised to parry any incoming beastly blows.
The sprint back to the jail is relatively short, taking you down the country road, through the castle gate, and then darting through the market. As you approach the jail's façade, you can hear the sound of objects breaking and things crashing from inside, just before of the guardsman seems to be bodily thrown through the door and lands in a pile at the bottom of the steps.
From inside, you hear a beastly roar followed by a man's voice, though more guttural, "I liked you, girl, but get out of my way! I'm done being nice!"
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"Ooo--Cimri is holding her own! Good girl!" Eris says as she prances forward.
In a sing-song voice, she recites a diddy she knew as a child.
"This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home, this little piggy had roast beef, and this little piggy had none! And this little piggy went wee, wee, wee, all the way home!"
Entering the door, she says "Oh, there you are little piggy! I hope you're not greased!"