Ingrid sat against the wall, drinking straight from a bottle. She listened to the others talk with only half-interest. She pulled out a bedroll from her backpack and laid it out so that she could claim a good spot.
Life was good, she reflected, as she looked at her new mace. She had good wine, good food, coin in her purse and the favor of a powerful deity. What more could anyone ask for?
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Eris, having explored a little bit, makes her way back down to the others.
"I have a hard time going to bed if anyone else is up," she chuckles. "Fear of missing excitement, or something funny happening.
Ha!"
She starts removing her old armor and putting on the new, heavy armor she had earned.
"Say, does anyone know what this building was before? Or why it was burned?"
Cimri shrugs. "I dunno. It burned down before I was born but is still here. Don't know why it hasn't been torn down."
She glances at Brogol, "Anyway, don't worry about the ghosts. I'm glad you came along for this, Bro'." She uses an old nickname for him, even though it could lend itself towards confusion with outsiders. "How're things going with your ma and the Captain?"
"Weird noises? Maybe that's Razelago's weird cat thing crawling about inside the walls." Vivia pats her full-to-bursting stomach and then leans back onto her elbows. She takes a long look at the other weirdos that Cimri had picked up. "Nah Eris, no idea about the building. I haven't been in Longacre all that long. But big buildings like this don't stay empty unless there's a reason to keep away. Probably some noble lord's home, maybe one who went and offed himself, and the government was keeping anyone else from settling in. Waste of a good place until Cimri and now Razelago started enjoying it."
"Your, uh, father- he have anything to say about this place?" Vivia asks for the hell of it, wondering what kind of crazy stuff might spill forth from Eris' imagination.
"It used to be called Moragatalli Manor, after one of old Cheliax's lesser noble families. They backed the wrong side in the civil war; there property was given to House... Fex. And when the transfer was announced, the building caught fire, burning most of House Moragatalli with it.
"Quite a way to underline your point. I'd imagine the message is while it's still standing."
"So this place is owned by House Fex? Hope they overlook us squatting once or twice." Vivia grins "Maybe they'll light it on fire a second time to clear out the second round of vermin, eh?"
Cimri furrows a brow when Raziya mentions House Fex. "House Fex? As in Archbaron Fex?" Cimri suddenly looks about a little uneasily, but calms after a moment. Of course, you all know the Archbaron is the ruler of Longacre and the surrounding barony. "Hmm..." Cimri chews on that thought for a moment before shrugging.
"So, Eris, right? And... Karik... how are you finding Longacre? And, uh, not to be too blunt, but what's with the skull?"
She glances at Brogol, "Anyway, don't worry about the ghosts. I'm glad you came along for this, Bro'." She uses an old nickname for him, even though it could lend itself towards confusion with outsiders. "How're things going with your ma and the Captain?"
Brogol shrugs. "Same as ever, I suppose. Ma handles herself alright, and she loves him for some gods damned reason. More worried about my sisters to be honest. Once I get my droving business up and running and my own place, I'm gonna offer them stay with me."
Pausing, Brogol decides to delve into Cimri's family history. "How's things with your aunt, then? Reckon she gets brought into what happened tonight?"
"To be honest it was a little dull until tonight. I merely came here for a job." drawls Karik. He glances at Eris,
"I also want to know what your deal with bone is."
Cimri nods at Brogol, taking another drink of the wine. When the topic of her aunt comes up, she casts a hard look at the faces less well known to her -- Eris and Karik -- and a hand seems to unconsciously drift towards the kukri on her hip, then she says to Brogol, "She's still herself. Ain't no changin' it. Got fed up and left; that's why I'm here now. As for tonight..." She pauses, then explains to the others, "She's the sheriff, if you're wondering what Brogol's gettin' at."
Her glower practically begs someone to challenge her on her loyalties before she says to Brogol, "An' yeah, she'll get brought in at some point, for sure. But she's hide bound and 'ill follow the law, by the letter. We can use that if we need to. And if it comes to it..." She taps her kukri and shrugs slightly, though she can't quite bring herself to say it aloud.
"You can't help who your family is," Brogol says, by way of apology. Secretly however, he was pleased - Cimri brought his family up as a point of conversation in room with some seriously mal-adjusted folks. Turnabout was fair play, after all.
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"Your, uh, father- he have anything to say about this place?" Vivia asks for the hell of it, wondering what kind of crazy stuff might spill forth from Eris' imagination.
"So, Eris, right? And... Karik... how are you finding Longacre? And, uh, not to be too blunt, but what's with the skull?"
Eris chuckles to herself as she looks at the skull, the light spell still causing the eye sockets and nose to glow with a creepy light.
"This is my father--just--in portable form. Ha! You'll come to love my father as much as I do. He's a riot! Haha! Just make sure you never say anything bad about him. I take that--very personally. Ha!"
She strokes the top of the skull, which is mostly devoid of hair.
"I've never been to Longacre before--it's so provincial! But my father certainly has. He's from here, originally. Imagine that! He told me he's the one that had this place burned! I guess there was some incident with a frying pan, but I'm trying to get some more detail. How funny is that! HA-haaa! He must have liked fire as much as I do!"
”Is his soul bound to the skull?” Ingrid asked, without any revulsion. Rather, she merely sounded curious. That, and she hoped that their companion was a powerful mage rather than a loon.
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Eris raises an eyebrow.
"HA! Of course. Someday, we'll put him all back together and I won't have to carry him around. But for now, he's not much trouble."
She looks at the skull.
"No, father, I don't think she was suggesting you didn't have a soul!
..... You want me to ask her if dwarves with red skin and claws have souls?! Ha! I don't want to--you ask her," she chuckles.
”Fook if I know. Do YE have a soul? And if so how do ye know? Can ye stab it? Seems like if ye have it then it should be stabbable.”
Vivia whistles at the revelation that Cimri's aunt is the sheriff. "Tidy little bit of shit you've got yourself into then. Unless you think you're a lawyer now on top of a little thief." After a moment she shrugs "Probably doesn't matter though. Razelago's clearly someone who's got money and power behind him. So you should be right fine until he gets tired of you."
As Eris' odd exchange with Ingrid continues, Vivia can't help but comment "Sure, souls in skulls, that isn't too strange now, is it" She lies back half reclined, enjoying the feel of fullness from the feast.
"Souls are real, Ingrid. We wouldn't want them if they weren't real."
As Vivia concerns herself with more temporal matters, Raziya's lips curve into a small, challenging smile. "Rhona plays by a set of rules that we don't have to follow. If she moves against us we'll be able to outmaneuver her easily enough, if we keep our heads." She doesn't quite make the last a question as she glances at Mad Eris and her father.
At first Cimri turns her glower to Vivia as she whistles and observes Cimri's predicament. But, when it seems the scarred woman isn't mocking the young scrapper, the tension eases out of her posture and she nods. As for the last part, "This may be Longacre, but it's also Cheliax. I may have been stuck in this backwater rathole my whole life, but I'm not stupid. I know the rules. You get an opportunity, you take it, and if you're not the one in power, you make yourself useful to those who are. I don't intend to let myself become useless..."
She nods again, this time to Raziya's words, though the quip about losing one's head goes over hers. "Just don't go at her head-on like a bulette. She's got her deputies and her badge right now."
She finishes off her meal, followed by the bottle of actually quite good wine, then looks around the room, her eyes pausing -- and hardening -- on Karik and Vaelor, before she says to all, "Anyway, like I said, there's room here to crash if you don't have a place. Raze-lago said there'd be more work, could be soon. Up to you where you stay..." She seems to think about saying something else, but finishes there. She retires to the straw mattress by the fireplace, removes her pouches and gear, a brace of daggers across her chest, another at her hip, then draws a kukri and folds it, in hand, under a cloak she's using for a pillow.
Karik gives a little smirk at Raziya's wit. Then, when Cimir turns in for the night he turns to Raziya "Seems a good enough gig for now, I'll trust you to give me a warning if its time to cut and run just as you can trust me to do my best to make sure you get out intact."
Vaelor, who has been sitting on the floor in silence with a faraway smile on her face, blinks suddenly a couple of times then looks around as if getting her bearing.
”hey Ingrid, why did you make the old lady kill the punchy man? Didn’t you want too?”
Ingrid was about to respond to the soul questioning when Vaelor’s question caught her off guard. ”Why? A few reasons. One, because the woman is much less likely to report us now. She did the deed after all. Secondly, because if she talks of this, she will be properly terrified. And third, because I find it amusing to make people like her to feel like a monster. It took me years to recognize that what I have are gifts. It is people like her who looked down on me. So fook ‘em.” She said, taking another sup of wine from the bottle.
Raziya's small smile becomes warmer. "Of course, Karik, of course."
***
She had retired not long after Cimri had prepared herself for bed, not wanting to speak of her own living arrangements before company that was quite so... mixed. It's not as though Aunt Contanzia is some dark secret, but she is... vulnerable. And vulnerabilities should only be exposed with purpose. She mused for a moment on her decision to tell Cimri, before discarding the attempt to second-guess herself. No. It was necessary, a baring of the throat to convince the lead hound that there is no fight yet to come...
"What else does everyone want to do? Cow tipping? Vandalism? Set things on fire? Stay up all night? Well, that one's a given."
"Maybe you young people. I'm turning in." Vivia pulls herself to her feet and draws a scythe. Wordlessly, she drags it behind herself as she looks for a room in the back of the building with a bed pallet that isn't too damaged. The weapon's haft scrapes against the floor as she goes. She calls out from the hallway "If anyone thinks of stealing anything from my share, I'll eat you." The words are said with a half-yawn.
She means them.
Finishing her food and the bottle of wine, Ingrid likewise turned in. Crawling into her sleeping bag, she went to sleep without a word. She assumed that nobody would be dumb enough to reach in to steal her coin.
Karik leans back in the chair, feet still on the table.
"Good night Raziya. Sleep well."
He raises an eyebrow at Eris' question
"My lil' darling here likes to hurt people but I just like a drink."
He gives a warm smile to Vivia as she stands "Good night grandma." His tone suggests a term of endearment more than an jibe. on
Her threat causes a frown however. "I am hurt you would suggest such a thing. Vaelor will her keep her vigilant watch as always and will happily keep one eye on your share."
"Good night Ingrid."
Karik sits up drinking for quite some time. He finishes whatever wine is left before falling asleep in his chair.
Once he starts to snore Vaelor gets a blanket to put over him before once again sitting on the floor next to him.
Perception Rolls
Around noon, Brogol and Eris both awake to the sound of Cimri slipping up the stairs and down the second floor hall to Razelago's office. Everyone else is still asleep.
His belly full, Brogol finds himself slipping into sleep, even though he'd intended to make the walk to his carriage home. Blinking twice, the driver lets loose a deep sigh and falls asleep.
Brogol wakes with a start, finding himself still sitting up where he'd nodded off, and sees Cimri slipping up the stairs. Noticing Eris also awake , Brogol puts a finger to his mouth - shhhh - and follows Cimri up the stairs as quietly as possible.
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Brogol makes it up to the near the half-way point up the stairs and realizes he can hear well enough without having to go further. The conversation isn't whispered or hushed, just a bit muffled by the house.
Razelago: "Wake them up. There is something happening in town I want you to deal with."
Cimri: "In town... Now? How do you..."
Razelago interrupts her: "I don't answer to you, Cimri. Do as you're told. There is no particular rush, though. Take the eggs and sausage on the table there, get them fed, then bring them up. An hour should be fine."
A moment of silence, then: "A silent cook, then. Am I to empty their chamber pots, too?"
Razelago: "Now now, don't be petty. You're well paid and nobody is forcing you to do anything, are they?"
Cimri grunts a response and you can hear her footsteps and collecting some items.
Brogol slips back down the stairs and sits back in his "bed." Once Cimri comes down the stairs, Brogol rubs his eyes and yawns. "Oi, Cim. Morning - er afternoon. Up early meeting with the boss?"
Worry nags at Brogol. How did Razelago know what's happening in town, indeed? And how did Cimri know to meet them? They didn't come down the stairs, far as we know at any rate, can can't see an important one like that bothering. No, they summoned Cimri, somehow.
Cimri comes into the room with a basket of eggs and a rope of sausage. Her jaw is clenched and her mind elsewhere when Brogol starts to talk, and she half-jumps from being startled. Briefly, she glowers at him, then sighs and her expression mellows. "Yes, I guess you could say that. He's got more work for us but won't say what."
She walks over to the fireplace, sets the food aside, and goes about starting a fire, making enough noise about it to eventually wake everyone up.
Once the fire is going, she starts some coffee by pouring some grounds from her personal kit into a pot of water to boil, then throws the sausage into a skillet and places that on the fire as well.
After everyone is awake, she says through gritted teeth, "I'm not doing this tomorrow, but breakfast will be ready soon. Razelago has more work for us, but after we eat."
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Eris had stayed up the previous night as long as anyone would.
There's no time for sleep if there's any fun to be had!
She seemed disappointed at the lack of interest in going back out, but had eventually curled up in a corner. The light in the skull she carried eventually went out, she told it "good night," and she fell asleep after one last chuckle.
In the morning, when Brogol speaks to her, she's instantly wide awake and smiling, bouncing up and down in excitement over his conspiratorial tone.
"I like secrets, too!" she whispers, a little too loud. Stifling a laugh, she follows him up to listen, looking like a child playing hide and seek or some other game.
At the news of more assignments, she jumps up and down. "Let's do this!"
”More work? Heh. I like the sound of that. And breakfast to boot.” She said with a smile, quite pleased with the arrangement.
When midday arrives, Raziya wakes to an insistent knocking at the door of her home. Outside is one of the local teens, brown hair and dirt on his cheeks from running through the streets all day, with worn clothing. He has in hand a piece of parchment, folded and sealed with unmarked black wax.
When opened, the parchment reads, Return to the manor with haste. I have another task for you.
Vivia rises from her sleep with the energy of a shambling mound. She staggers into the kitchen silently, glaring daggers at every surface and person that looks at her in a way she doesn't like. This continues all the way until she spies the coffee grounds going into the pot. She intercepts half of them with a thrust of her hand and shoves the grounds right into her mouth, chewing lazily.
It takes another minute or two for them to kick in, but when they do, she says "Sure nice of you to make food Cimri - I didn't peg you as a domestic sort." She grins, grounds stuck to her teeth "Here, I can take over for you. No sense if you're going to burn the sausages."
She doesn't take no for an answer and takes over the cooking duties.
As the sausage sizzles, she casually asks "So what's the rush with Razelago? Any idea what he wants this time?"
Karik wakes up and takes the time to re-summon Vaelor.
"Mornin' everyone." he says in a quiet gruffer voice than last night. He points at the coffee pot "Can I have a cup?"
Assuming theres no objection he pours himself some. Tops it up with from his flask, wincing when he realizes how much of it he drunk last night, then deeply inhales the steam.
He just sits silently drinking his coffee unless directly spoken too.
When she appears Vaelor gives everyone a warm wave "Hello! I'm back!"
Karik flinches at her volume and she smiles.
"Master isn't a morning person.
Seeing Vivia cooking she grins
"Oh wow! Normally I have to cook. Would you like any help?"
Cimri starts to growl at Vivia, "I'M NOT A..." But when Vivia seems to be willing to take over the cooking, she draws up short, blinks in confusion, then shrugs and backs away, "Um, uh... thanks?" She looks thoroughly confused, shakes her head and finds a place to sit. There's plenty of coffee for everyone, though Cimri only has a cup for herself.
"I don't really know what's up, no. He just said there's something in town and I guess he wants us to do something about it after we wake up and get some food or... whatever." She casts a sidelong glance at Karik and Vaelor, unconsciously makes sure she still has her kukri, then sighs. What have you gotten yourself into, girl? "Not a big rush, said we should eat first, but... yeah."
”Relax. He pays well enough and feeds us. Everything is fine.” Ingrid said, as she tore into some sausage.
Brogol grunts in agreement with Ingrid, his mind occupied with searching the area for something to hold his coffee. Finding a chipped and long-unused bowl under a chair, he blows the dust out turns it into a mug. "Aye. Food's best I ever had." Grabbing a sausage, the driver dunks it into his coffee and chews, content, while talking with his mouth full.
"Ready when youse are."
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Eris spends most of the meal building things out of food on her plate.
She tries to make a tower of sausage, or dump eggs in her coffee and try to dunk them under with her fork. She does eat some. Though she seems to be taking great enjoyment, it proves grating for anyone trying to wake up.
"Hmm hmm hmmmm," she hums to herself. Once she's had enough play with the food, she strums her fingers on the table.
"I should say--patience is my forte. But, can we go now?!"
After the breakfast is cooked and Cimri is able to drink her coffee and get some food in her stomach (with a gruff "thanks" to Vivia), Cimri does a quick double-check of her weapons and armor, then announces "Now's probably a good time to go up." She leads you back upstairs to the office and, as before, the panther-creature is curled in the corner but watches you all through lidded eyes. Though the daylight through the window mutes Razelago's silhouette slightly, it is still visible due to whatever source of backlighting he has. The only difference is that now a small, black lacquered box sits on the table before the paper screens.
After everyone is in the room, he explains the situation. “With the number of veterans who live in town, it’s not surprising that there’s a church of Iomedae in Longacre. But there might not be one much longer if Tileavia Allamar, its priestess, does what she has in mind.”
Razelago’s silhouette clasps shadowy hands. “There’s growing unrest in the empire, and not just in Pezzack and along the Hellcoast. Many of Iomedae’s faithful have begun speaking more boldly of the monarchy’s vices and the rights of citizens. They seem to believe this is Andoran and that the people have only to reach out to seize power. But they are wrong. This is Cheliax, not Andoran, and we know where true power lies.
“Fifth Sword Knight Allamar is gathering all who will listen for a sermon in front of her church this afternoon—only two short hours from now. I don’t know what she has in mind, but I suspect some revolutionary claptrap that can only sow the seeds of confusion and frustration among Longacre’s citizens. That is contrary to my wishes. So I’d like you to attend the rally. In the box are sashes marked with the insignia of Archbaron Fex. Wear them, remind people that the lord of this town is not without supporters, and see what transpires. Afterward, Cimri will report back to me. In return, you will all receive double what you did last night."
Cimri steps up to the box, opens it, and finds inside a set of sashes. She takes one in hand, steps back, and looks at all of you with an arched brow, wondering if you had any questions for Razelago.
”Lots of gold to stand there looking pretty. You want them dead, to show our support, or us just looking scary?” Ingrid asked, bluntly.
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Eris smiles broadly. "Rallies and counter-rallies!" she exclaims. "I hope someone counters our counter-rally, too."
She looks at the cranium at her belt. "Oh? You don't like the church of Iomedae? I already knew that--I hate them too! What, with their pretending to be so righteously ascending to the highest layers of the most holy thingies with their lions and eagles and airs and pretentious whatchamits! All while wearing the red of Asmodeus! Imagine!"
She adjusts a strap on her new armor and taps her sickle.
"I like to arrive early."
From behind the screen is a raspy chuckle. "But you are so good at looking scary, surely it is worth commensurate compensation, yes? Hmm. But no, let me be clear... while what happened at the tannery was perfectly fine, I do not want them dead. The last thing I want is for you to precipitate a massacre of Chelaxian citizens. But if people are going to begin gravitating towards this Knight of Iomedae, they need to know the regime has loyal subjects willing to stand up for it as well. That said, if you see an opportunity to disrupt the sermon, that would be acceptable. A counterrally of some sort is, truly, not a horrible idea. And if you can keep your heads about you while you do it, so much the better."
From the corner, Gaurig snorts through one of her nostrils, almost like a laugh as she watches through a single, half-lidded eye.
Vivia washes down the sausage and coffee grounds with a healthy pint of mead from her own supply. She's still picking grounds out of her teeth as the group ascends up the stairs to meet with Razelago, but once they arrive at the door, she composes herself for the employer. No sense looking sloppy on the job. Especially not a lucrative one like this.
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When Razelago mentions the Iomedean priestess, Vivia tenses up. Quietly, she comments "Those bastard Iomedeans would like nothing more than to slit my boys' throats and use them as an example of what devils and their kin deserve. No surprise that they'd want to do the same to the whole of Cheliax if they can get their hands on her. If Andoran wanted real freedom, they'd drive those shiteaters out of their own country too." Her nostrils flare as her hatred for them heats up. At Razelago's instructions, she balks, asking "Why not just find Allamar beforehand, and we can set her on a path to early retirement. No rally, no problems. And one less priestly b$~%~ in this world."
"Would it not perhaps be more effective if some of us were to forego the sashes? A show of organized, restrained force can be an effective tool, but the visual of a supposedly neutral party being 'swayed' to the correct side is powerful as well."