Her gaze shifts to Brogol and the flat affect breaks slightly with a flicker of genuine surprise. "Now, you, Master Brogol, I am surprised by. I thought you had a soft spot for Cimri, or she for you, but these folks?" Before he can answer, she shifts back to the more immediate concern, and threat.
Brogol simply shrugs, a bewildered look crossing his face. "I'm just trying to keep everyone calm, Sheriff."
As to Rhona's next question, Brogol keeps quiet. There was no need to say anything incriminating - better to just say nothing at all.
Raziya lays a hand gently beneath Cimri's shoulderblades. "There you go then dear, just don't ask her. The rest can all be taken care of."
She fusses with Cimri's sash for a moment, vaguely neatening its folds. "Now, let's hear what Allamar has to say."
Vivia shoos the deputies dismissively, making sure they know she saw them approaching, then turns her attention to Cimri. "What an aunt, eh? That was a good try there. You know where to twist the daggers, that's for sure." She slaps the girl on the back encouragingly "Now we just need you sounding little less sullen, right? We'll make a woman out of you yet."
Vivia smiles for a moment, thinking of the times her own boys had faced down problems much bigger and much older and pulled through the victor. Cimri had some of their fire, for sure. Just needed to iron out that petulance, and temper her with a bit of sense.
She turns to Raziya "Nice save there at the end Raziya. You've got a way with words, or at least you've got a gift for changing the topic. The sheriff more or less admitted that she's here because she expects a disturbance. And that's probably going to come from our dear priestess."
As for Cimri... O:-) We'll see. Her fate isn't written, so it just depends on how the relations build with the PCs and the dice fall; it can go multiple directions. I'm glad y'all are liking her, though. Always hard to predict how people will react to some NPCs. I've had campaigns where I made an NPC I just adored and meant to be very helpful to the party, and things just instantly went sideways for some reason and s/he was promptly shooed away (or worse). (Timeon of Balentyne comes to mind for Way of the Wicked.)
Cimri doesn't seem entirely comfortable being fussed over by Raziya but is a bit too rattled by the exchange with her aunt to protest. She has to bite her tongue a bit with Eris but tries to be mindful the woman is addled, "I don't think she's dead. She just... left. And I think Rhona made her leave." She shrugs it away like it doesn't matter, nods appreciatively to Vivia and then re-focuses by quickly inspecting her kukri and daggers.
Vivia isn't able to eavesdrop on the officers' conversation, but she sees that after a minute or so three of the deputies take up positions around the square while two of them coincidentally find themselves about 30 feet from the party, conspicuously not watching them. The sheriff takes up a position at the southeast corner of the church.
As for the sheriff's attitude, despite the stoic impression, she wasn't too hard to read. She's very focused on fairly applying her interpretation of the law without causing unnecessary harm. As to Allamar, it seems she is somewhat sympathetic, but it's secondary to what she sees as her role as sheriff.
During your exchange with the sheriff, the square has steadily filled and now seems to hold about a hundred of the locals, mostly commoners, with a palpable air of anticipation. The appointed hour for the sermon is near.
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Eris nods solemnly. "My mother--left too," she says, though it's nearly transparently a lie.
But Eris doesn't seem very intent on comforting Cimri. Rather, she takes interest in the gathering locals.
"So Father, you grew up looking at people that looked exactly like this! Hahaha! That one looks just like the Thornapple kid?! He must have been hideous! Hehe!"
She makes her way toward the front of the crowd to get a good view of the sermon.
"This is going to be bor-ing. Let's see what we can do to spice it up! Ha!"
Raziya circulates among the crowd, greeting her neighbors and acquaintances with a gentle touch and dazzling smiles - and words of warning
"I've heard that she says she saw an angel, but that it won't let anyone else see it. What a miracle that would be, so long as it's true of course. Anyone can say they've seen an angel, especially if it gets them a lot of attention, but it must be true, right?"
"The sheriff is here, do you know if she approves of this? She doesn't look very happy about what Allamar's up to if you ask me, but maybe she just knows something we don't - you know that Rhona can be trusted, right? I just hope she doesn't cancel the speech, I want to hear what Allamar has to say, even if it turns out not to amount to much. So long as it's not treason of course, I would hate to see Rhona forced to arrest her, or worse..."
Ingrid made her way through the crowd, starting up ‘conversations’ as she went.
”Can ye believe this bit? Claims to have seen an angel, but where is it now? Probably saw me and got confused!”
And ”They’re all the same, aren’t they? They come promising everything, but what changes? They get your money, they get all the power and we’re just poorer. And it’s always these ‘good’ ones that promise the most and give the least.”
As well as ”I know this type. They promise to cure all that ails you, but it only works if you have the coin. When was the last time these clerics cured anyone of a disease without the right donation? It’s just a business that convinces you to pay more for less. Don’t ya wish they’d just be honest, for once?”
Eris makes her way to the front of the crowd but her strange affect turns people off more than it persuades. Raziya and Ingrid, however, have significantly more success. A number of the locals with whom they speak nod seem receptive to their words, nodding, "Aye, yeah, I see your point. We'll see what she has to say but it's going to take a lot. Never known the Sword Knight to be a charlatan, but priests do tend over promise."
A few moments later, a hush falls over the crowd as a woman steps out onto one of the church's balconies. She wears the white and gold cassock of her faith beneath a breastplate emblazoned with the symbol of Iomedae, while long black hair flows out from a keffiyeh. Locals will immediately recognize her as Fifth Sword Knight Tileavia Allamar, the local priestess of Iomedae.
She raises a hand and the rest of the murmering quiets. "Friends and neighbors, I have wondrous tidings to share! We have all known hardships in our lives—needless sorrows, injustice, even cruelty. Indeed, such is the struggle of all who live. But many among us have known more than our share. Many among us have shouldered burdens laid upon them not by the Inheritor, but by those who would curse her name and taunt her faithful.
“But today, I bear a missive from champions of Iomedae’s faith, heralds of the goddess’s will, who know your troubles and would see them end.”
As she pauses, her twin sons, known to locals as Loran and Lacall, step out from the church itself carrying a box swaddled in white linen between them and place it on the table in front of the church.
Ingrid merely observed, for the moment...
Vivia steps into the thick of the crowd, elbows out, thumbs through the loops on her belt, making her presence very immediate. She scowls at the priestess steps out, thoughts going back to 'This would've been a lot easier if we'd just snipped the whole church at the root beforehand'
As the speech begins, he foul attitude only worsens, listening to the infectious drivel leaving Allamar's mouth. But given the group's instructions, she reasons its best to let the priestess hit the crowd with her strongest message, and only then undercut it.
When the box comes up, she pushes slightly through the crowd. This looks like trouble.
Raziya stayed quiet and attentive, for now. Once I see what's inside the box, I can better tailor my words to the rabble.
Karik stands silent, watching the crowd and the locals as he tries to keep up to speed.
Vaelor senses the tension and tries to shrink deeper into the hood of her robe.
After her sons place the box on the table, the priestess unfurls a rolled parchment and again raises her voice.
“I received this letter last night:
“‘People of Longacre! The time of your redemption is at hand. When the song of the Inheritor rises, you all must choose: live as complacent vassals of corruption and evil, or embrace honor and claim the glory that is your right. The Glorious Reclamation gives you a choice.’
“Signed, ‘Lencia Visserene, Knight-Inheritor of the Glorious Reclamation.’
“Friends, it is up to us to restore the worship of Iomedae to its proper place in Cheliax and reclaim our nation in the name of the Inheritor. But we have been given a sign -- a sign that the ‘Angel Knight’ has come to Longacre to lead us to glory!”
Her sons lift the linen and box lid, revealing an ornate silver helm sculpted with angelic features and a halo of curls. The faceplate's eyeless hallows stare sternly into the crowd.
Much of the crowd bursts into murmurs and gasps, while those with whom some of you spoke earlier -- a minority but not insignificant -- seem utterly unimpressed. A few wave dismissively towards the church then turn and begin pushing their way out of the crowd. However, most of the crowd remains, either beginning to jabber about the import of Allamar's words or gawking at the helmet.
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Ingrid called out ”Ha! That’s it? I know dwarves who can make better helmets! Nobody should get themselves killed over a fancy brain-bucket!”
Brogol doesn't know the purpose of the helmet, but the fervor shown by those remaining is worrisome. Loud enough to be heard in the vicinity of those near the helmet, including the priestess, Brogol snears. "She's asking for treason without saying it herself. Careful throwing your fortunes in with ones that straddle lines. Out with it, priestess! If you advocate for revolution, say so! Make your intentions clear! And know that you bring Thrune's wrath upon our town!"
While he talks, Brogol searches his memories for what he knows of the Allamar boys.
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Eris slow claps as the priestess finishes, sarcasm evident.
I agree Father--this is nuts!
"Oh, a special helmet!" she exclaims. "The little angel curly-cues and the halo--that's how you know the person wearing it is special! That's how you know they're better than you! Bravo!!!"
She stops clapping and casts light on her skull and its eyes begin to glow.
"You want to see something even better? How about the skull of Archcount Innistrad Rosala?! Look, he's alive! And he can tell us what to do a lot better than your silly helmet. Want to know something else? He's not going to make us do anything! Is that helmet worth dying for?! I think not!"
Vivia raises her voice as well, though makes sure to talk over one of the others so that it doesn't seem coordinated. She stands with an open, no nonsense posture and makes her presence known. "And here we have the Inheritor's best, trotting out a trinket to lure you in with the glimmer of some polished silver. We all know what the damn Glorious Reclamation stands for! It stands for death, bloodshed, and murder. Stands for neighbors turning on each other because they think they're more bloody enlightened. Only an imbecile would want to inflict that on the town of Longacre. Are any of you that imbecile? Are you?" She looks at the people around her, daring them to offer themselves up as the idiot who would destroy the town.
"It is very well fabricated, but if mere mortals can craft that so easily - Well, trust a dwarf to judge blacksmithing after all."
Eris and Raziya's words are somewhat less persuasive than the others' -- Eris actually gets a few chuckles -- but their voices lend credence to what Ingrid, Brogol and Vivia offer. The Fifth Sword Knight is briefly surprised at the vociferous challenge from the crowd, but it quickly fades. "I make no call for treason, Master Stokl, merely seek to remove a veil of falsehood cast by the Prince of Lies so the people can see they have a choice. But, while we speak of death and murder, we should be clear about who stands for what..."
As she says the phrase 'death and murder' there is more movement from the shadows of the church's interior. A quartet of acolytes come forth bearing a coffin between them. As the scene registers, the crowd falls silent, eyes transfixed.
The coffin is leaned up against the side of the church and the loose lid removed, revealing within it the body of Jabral Louslik.
The Sword Knight's words are sharp, "Death and murder! Our friend and neighbor Jabral was murdered last night. He was found this way, his head nearly severed and his office ransacked. A good and faithful man, his death was not the result of some random brigandage, but an assassination provoked by his criticism of the archbaron's taxes, callous administration and decadence! This is the death and murder brought to our town."
She turned and retired back into the church, her white and gold cassock flowing about her as the crowd erupted in outrage. Meanwhile, the twins continue to stand guard by the church's entrance and the helmet.
At the perimeter, Cimri is slowly making her way towards the west side of the church for a better look, and the deputies and sheriff continue to watch the crowd for any violent outbursts.
Wary of shouting too much and thus drawing unwarranted attention to herself, Ingrid instead watched the crowd to see their reaction to the corpse.
Looking towards the front of the church, Brogol tries to get a read on the crowd as the priestess disappears from view. Did she retreat into the church? Is the crowd being provoked to violence? The driver silently curses his short stature; all he can see is backs and hats. Disembodied voices wash over Brogol, intelligible but impassioned in tenor. Panic grips the young man, and Brogol pushes at those around him, trying to make some space...
It’s not hard to tell, the crowd is angry and worked up, though it doesn’t seem quite disposed to violence.
Vivia takes gauge of the crowd.
And at least getting the sense that the locals are angry, she decides it might be better to not actively try to counter Allamar's trump card. Instead, she mulls over the Iomedean priestess and the degree she's willing to stoop to fire up the town. That callousness could be used against her, later.
Of course, the simplest would still be just killing her.
"Stay calm, better not to fly off the handle until we know what's really true..."
Once an idea is planted, it's hard to change the narrative. A few folks growl at Eris, "Look at 'is bloody head! That weren't no robbery!" Raziya's soft words have trouble penetrating the furor.
Nonetheless, you get the sense things could have been worse if some of the crowd hadn't left earlier. As it is, half of the remaining crowd begins to gradually leave the square, talking how poor Louslik and speculating how anyone could do that to him, while a few stragglers remain to look at the helmet or his body and gossip with one another.
Most of the square is now empty. Remaining are perhaps a dozen locals, the twins, the sheriff and her deputies.
Cimri comes from the shadows of a building on the west side of the square, gravitating towards Brogol and anyone else near him. "That... could have been worse?" She ponders that for a moment, then nods, "Yeah, not too bad, all things considered, though damn, she dropped that hammer pretty hard. Anything else you're all thinking of doing or should we head back to... the house?" She was about to say the 'Ash House' but was being a little paranoid about one of the deputies overhearing.
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Eris continues to rant about the many ways a robbery could have gone bad, but otherwise doesn't seem too concerned about the crowd. She walks back toward the group.
"They just want to look at the bad side of everything. Anyone could have done that! Even an old lady! Ha! " she snickers to her companions.
She twirls around the group as they talk. "I-guess we could go to --the house," she whispers. "Maybe there are more presents!"
Ingrid shrugged. ”Not as a group. Too obvious. Will meet time y’all there.” As far as she was concerned her job was done and it went about as well as they could have expected.
Karik sighs "Well that could have gone worse but I need a drink. Meet you all back at the house? Actually, Vivia, any idea where I can get a drink around here?"
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"Agreed," Brogol says, nodding to Ingrid. "I'll see you all later." Giving a quick nod, the driver turns and looks to the remaining stragglers. There was still work to do.
Sidling up to the few lingering over Louslik's coffin, Brogol looks down at the dead man and feels a twinge of consciensce, before quickly pushing it aside. The old goat didn't have to keep pushing us. He could've laid down and given up the money.
Sighing loudly, Brogol removes his hat and keeps his eyes on Louslik, while talking loudly enough for all nearby to heary. "Allamar's not wrong. I heard Louslik was sympathetic to the rebels. And this is just the beginning. This Glorious Revolution, or whatever they are called, are going to bring a lot more misery down on us. And why? We're just a small town, nowhere special. Why would they want to bring this trouble on us?"
Putting his hat on, Brogol turns from the body and looks each spectator in the eye. "Tell your family. Tell your friends. The Glorious Revolution will bring nothing but more coffins to Longacre. This town doesn't need heroes. It needs compliance."
Turning, Brogol leaves, passing by the Sheriff. "Rhona, you almost let things get out of hand there. Do your job. Keep those agitators in the church, less you want to see more people hurt."
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Meandering through Longacre's streets, Brogol eventually finds himself standing in front of his childhood home. Ducking around the back, Brogol looks to be sure he's not been followed and then crawls into his broken carriage. Taking his stiletto, the driver pries a plank from the carriage seat. Dropping his ill-gotten coins into the seat cavity, Brogol replaces the plank and covers it with the seat cushion.
Next, he climbs the stairs of his stepfather's small house, and finds his sisters in their room. He finds Em practicing her vocals - softly - so as to not disturb Shae, who sits writing by the day's dwindling light at a small wooden desk. Sitting on a bed, Brogol takes 20 gold, the last of his payment from Westcrown, and drops it on the bed. "Oi. Love you two. Take this, help ma out if she needs it. I'll get you more when you can. And don't go out much if you can help it. And don't get involved with this damnable Glorious Reclamation. They're trouble - stay out of it, hear?"
Karik sighs "Well that could have gone worse but I need a drink. Meet you all back at the house? Actually, Vivia, any idea where I can get a drink around here?"
After a long pause, Vivia says "The Last Stand - Brogol and I've been there a few times. But for you, maybe the Arch and Lark is more your standard?" She looks over at the coffin one last time, then speaks up to Cimri. "After that showing, I think I need a break. I'll meet you later."
She waves to Cimri and the rest and doffs her sash as she exits the square. Taking a different path than the rest, she wanders through town for a while, listening in to the people out and about to see what the impressions of the events at the church were - now that people have had a chance to cool down.
After half an hour of that, she heads out into the woods before circling around to the Ash House.
As Raziya departs the square she delays a moment with Vaelor, leaning in close to whisper into her hood, "Do see that your master recalls his appointment with our employer. I would of course see that he received his share, but better not to show weakness before new allies, hm?"
Suiting action to words, though her path first takes her towards her Aunt Constanzia's hide of land, she doesn't wait long before bending towards Ash House instead. With no riot I'm sure she's perfectly fine in any case...
The group broke up and went in different directions, all under the watchful eye of one Sheriff Rhona Staelish. To a couple who went by her spot near the northern thoroughfare, she tipped her head in a slight nod, "Have a good evening. Be seein' more of you, I'm sure."
Turning, Brogol leaves, passing by the Sheriff. "Rhona, you almost let things get out of hand there. Do your job. Keep those agitators in the church, less you want to see more people hurt."
When Brogol went by and specifically engaged her, she looked him square in the eye, "No, Master Stokl, though I appreciate the concern. No violence. No rioting. No archbaron swinging in effigy. No, I think the people got the message, just maybe not quite the one some folks had intended. Go on home, now." It wasn't a particularly belligerent response and it seemed as if Brogol's words were taken as genuine concern and grief rather than a threat.
For her part, Cimri exchanged glances with Vivia and waved before she slipped out of the square between some buildings, quickly lost from sight.
Vivia found people were definitely talking, but less about the Glorious Reclamation and the Angel Knight -- the party seemed to have done a fairly successful job blunting the impact of the sermon -- as they were about the death of Louslik. She also overheard a discussion about the Umbres also having disappeared and a more practical concern about what was going to happen to the gong pots at night. Nobody seemed to necessarily be linking the murder to the Archbaron, as the Sword Knight had suggested, but there was outrage and a little fear.
Those who stop by the Arch and Lark find it is nearly as dead as ol' Louslik, clearly one of the least popular places in Longacre, but it is possible to get a decent glass of wine if you gain the owner's favor. The other pub in town, the Last Stand, is a buzzing hive of activity with locals discussing Louslik's murder and, a few voices, going on about the angel's helmet.
As the party eventually made their individual ways back to the Ash House, they found Cimri in the parlor, whittling away at a branch and chewing some jerky. She waits up to an hour before going up to meet Razelago.
Vaelor nods slightly. "Will do." She pauses "Thank you for looking out for him."
She will then quickly give Raziya a gentle peck on the cheek.
Karik will follow Vivia as she splits off from the group.
"Any chance you know where I could get a drink for my particular thirst?"
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Eris does not immediately leave for the Ash House, instead conversing with her skull about what it remembers of this town many decades ago.
Eris reverses her cloak, now showing the red of Asmodeus again, and wanders the streets lost in conversation. Occasionally, the young cleric pirouettes or skips. Eventually, she finds herself on the outskirts of town, facing the Fields of Chelam. The foundation of an old house remain.
"So--here? This is the place? I hope it had walls back then! Ha!" She sits in the long grass and stares at the house for some time.
Finally she lies on her back and stares at the clouds. "Longacre Camp--that's what this town used to be, a fort? Then a trading town? Well, I know you weren't alive for most of that, but it's good to know some history of this place. Tell me again about burning the Ash House! I'm sure they deserved it! You've come a long way, father."
After a few hours, Eris stands up and makes her way back to the others. Seeing Cimri in the parlor, she says "That went very well, no? Your aunt is a stickler for law and order, though. Ha! I'm sure we can help lighten her up later."
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With Rhona
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Brogol stares at the sheriff, trying to read her intent, before moving on.
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Now
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Brogol arrives just in time to see Eris duck in the front door of the mansion. Following the priestess in, Brogol nods hello and interrupts their conversation, inadvertantly mimicking Eris' sentiments.
"Could've been worse, yeah? Rhona though, she may be a problem."
At Ash House, Cimri takes the assembled group up to see Razelago. "Ah, my rapacious revenuers. How did things go in the square, hmm? All neat and accordingly to plan, I trust?" Cimri looks at the group to see if anyone wants to take the lead in explaining how things went, otherwise she will.
When Karik follows her, Vivia raises an eyebrow. At his question, she just answers "You sure take your namesake seriously. What makes you think I'd know? Because this isn't Ustalav. We don't have some f#&$ed up bars for that kind of thirst."
Vivia shrugs at Brogol's assessment. "Rhona's just dedicated to the rules like they're some kind of religion. This have got to be neat and tidy for her. She won't be a problem unless we make ourselves her problem. Which the boss seems inclined to do." She raises a hand to rub the edge of her scythe. "Hells, maybe she'll turn against that priestess, if things start boiling up and her precious law and order is disrupted."
She stands at attention in front of Razelago. No sense sugarcoating it. He probably already knows. "Bit of a s$~&show really. Priestess not only gave her sappy speech, but it turns out she had some bit of glitz to show off in the form of a helm. People love that." Heck, I wouldn't turn down a fancy silver helm myself - so long as it wasn't an Iomedean relic. "We said our part to undo her work. Reminded them what happens to people sucked into the Iomedae charade. Did alright until the priestess pulled out a dead body to scare people with."
Raziya nods in agrement, one corner of her mouth turned up in a crooked grin. "There's room for division between church and state, they're not as neatly yoked to one another as they might be in Egorian. I believe we've blunted her speech, but those already inclined to believe and trust her will have gained a powerful new symbol. We should make certain not to lose track of it; there may be opportunity there."
”People here are as dumb as shyt.” Ingrid added, helpfully. ”Being riled up over a stupid helmet that she says is from an angel and a corpse that she says was murdered. I’m glad we were there to thin the herd out, but the ones convinced didn’t take that much convincing, did they?”
"We should make certain not to lose track of it; there may be opportunity there."
Brogol scratches his cheek, frowning. "Maybe we should just steal it?"
Razelago -- and his silhouette -- listen patiently to the report and following conversation, then says, "That’s a more dramatic move than I’d expect from a country priestess -- I’m impressed. Tileavia Allamar might be more interesting than I’d thought. It’s the helmet and this ‘Angel Knight’ I’m curious about, though. I’ve heard rumors of the Glorious Reclamation. An overzealous mob of Iomedaean fanatics calling for a nationwide revolution, as if there was any hope of that. Still, Archbaron Fex might find this information valuable.
“In any case, you’ve done well. Dispersing the crowd and blunting the impact of her sermon, that was well done. As for the corpse..." The silhouette's shoulders arch in a shrug, "You can't make an omelette without... something or other, I don't know. Anyway, you’ll find your payment in the parlor. I shouldn’t have any more work for you today, but I suspect that might change tomorrow. I’ll send word.”
Cimri looks to see if you have any questions, otherwise shifts her gaze towards the exit as a non-verbal suggestion to head down to the parlor and collect your payment.
Ingrid nodded in understanding, and without further comment turned to leave.
"You can't make an omelette without... something or other, I don't know.”
"Breaking a few heads, is it?" Vivia smirks "Glad you're happy. Hope the next job involves making sure that priestess can't make things any worse." She waves to Razelago and joins Cimri in heading downstairs.
Raziya gives a bright laugh only a skosh more dignified than an outright giggle at Vivia's reply, and then withdraws, eager to see if her new patron's gifts continue to match her own aesthetic sensibilities.
”It’s true my alias is not metaphorical.” says Karin but he drops the topic as it seems to be a dead end anyway.
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After the conversation with Vivia Karik and Valero make their way promptly to the ash house. As always Karik is largely silent during the debriefing, letting the others talk and not asking any questions. He gives a slight bow to Razelago at the end before heading downstairs for the spoils