There are few patrons in here and only a pair of what look to be merchants look up when you walk in only to quickly return to their conversation. The bartender on the other hand eyes you two, more specifically apano, with naked suspicion. And much like every other interaction Apano has had with someone interested in keeping their stuff she pays particular attention to his hands.
"Good morning--a fine establishment you have here," he says, despite knowing better. "Perhaps I have underestimated Longacre. How much for your best accommodations?"
***Earlier***
Max nods. "A servant, yes. Let's go with that for now, until the town learns about your special gifts."
The towering tiefling walks up to the two old crones. "Greetings, ladies. Is Doctor Rohalendi in?"
"We charge based on the length of the stay, your mastership. Four gold a night for less than a fortnight. A month or more is 2 gold a night to be fullt paid at the atart of each week. This includes breakfast, of course, other accomodations are charged on a per instance basis."
The older woman says with a practiced clarity. Though her eyes still dart very briefly to the offensive hands of the servant.
"Lorata! Lorata! He's come! He's come at last to take me away! Oh Prince of Darkness if you must ravish me in your palace please do it gently before you take me to my husband! He mustn't know!"
As the thinner womans eyes swuint at Jerax she berates the other. "Open your eyes ya daft girl that's just some other devil not no god. Sides he ain't gonna ravish you you're not virginal enough."
The chubbier woman seems to come to her sense and she turns to glare at the other woman. "I haven't been with a man since my husband passed. That makes me virginal enough for most fiends."
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Jerax gives Alessandra a quick smirk. Then the towering tiefling advances on the chubbier old woman, and squeezes her face, forcing her mouth open. As she no doubt cries out in pain, Jerax looks to be examining her mouth and teeth. . Seeming to be satisfied, Jerax lets go of the old woman's face, and begins to interrogate.
"How are your knees, woman!" The asmodean follows up this question by giving both of the old woman's knees a quick squeeze. "I demand all servants to kneel before me, as I see fit!"
"Have you done anal? Have you had a red, hard cock jammed up your a$$ and fu<ked, old woman! Answer me!!"
Regardless of the answer, Jerax nods with approval. "You will do. First, you will be shaven. No doubt it's been years since you've tended to your 'garden'. And you shall do as I please or your soul is forfeit! Swear to me!!"
Alessandra's surprised at this sudden display of 'inspection'. Yet she can't help but chuckle slightly. She hadn't had a particular reason to be amused with other people's antics for a little while, but Jarex provided a pleasant surprise.
Leaving the older woman completely at the mercy of Jerax, at least for now, Alessandra approaches the other woman.
"Greetings. I am surprised at this man's behavior as well, but might i have a word with you. Would you happen to be the doctor, or the unfortunate woman?"
He waits, looking expectantly for an apology before continuing. "Show me the room, then. And I trust that you will be able to stable my horse while I'm here. I do hope this place gets livelier in the evening, I am in desperate need for some entertainment."
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The other woman doesn't lift a finger in protest and simply cackles wildly at the assault only pausing when Alessandra addresses her. Rather than responding immediately the dark haired woman frowns as she inspects allesandra head to toe in a way that makes Alessandra feel like shes back to being an acolyte about to be berated by an elder sister. And much like those days this one is never satisfied even with perfection.
She harumphs, "And what do erinyes worshipers want with the doctor? Trying to give her a pamphlet and a complimentary barbed whip? That stuffy girls too soft for that life. Cares too much. Wasting your time if you ask me."
"My apologies your mastership I meant no offense!" She says giving Apano the side eye that means all the offense.
"If you would but follow me sir I will take you to your lodgings." Pulling a large black iron key ring jingling with heavy keys out from under the bar she directs you to the back of the tavern to a side door by a small stage. Entering here is a small hallway with five doors in total. Three on your left and two on your right. She directs you to the furthest room on the right where she unlocks the door to a small suite. The decor inside is much like the floor itself giving the appearance of decadence without the substance of it. A large stiff bed dominates the majority of the room along with small furninshings, candles and other amenities. Another door leads to a small washroom with a fair sized tub, some buckets and a chamberpot. While not up to the standards he would normally be accustomed to at home, Max has paid far more for far less.
Once in the room, he looks about the furnishings and sighs on the inside as he thinks how much he has fallen from grace. Would his venture to Longacre in service of the Archbaron really be his path to glory?
"Very well," he says, pulling out his coinpurse and paying the daily fee. "A hot bath this evening would be greatly appreciated."
"Here! Pleasure this thumb as if it were the head of my throbbing red cock! You must surely be out of practice!!"
The other woman doesn't lift a finger in protest and simply cackles wildly at the assault only pausing when Alessandra addresses her. Rather than responding immediately the dark haired woman frowns as she inspects Alessandra head to toe in a way that makes Alessandra feel like shes back to being an acolyte about to be berated by an elder sister. And much like those days this one is never satisfied even with perfection.
The towering tiefling looks from the crueler old woman and the inquisitor. "Huh? You know your infernal iconography, ma'am. Well done! Whom do you serve?"
Between the whimpering of the one, and the cruel words of other, Alessandra's answer was pretty evident.
"I see. No, there is just a small matter that needs to be addressed with the good doctor.
But a barbed whip is more the style of that Sadist, Zon-Kuthon."
At Jerax's question to the woman's worship, though, "Is he the recipent of your attention?"
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From within the house there is a shuffling as the door opens up to reveal a mildly confused and annoyed doctor Rohalendi in a stark white apron. Her face is covered by a white cloth and her black hair is tied in a tight bun atop her head. In one arm she carries a metal bucket with what looks to be several steaming hot white towels. In the other glived hand she carries a collection of very sharp looking needles, small knives and tweezers. At about the same time the doctor comes out Jerax feels the uncomfortable sensation of his calloused thumb being gnawed upon by an enthusiatic and toothless mouth.
Outside Apano sees various ways to get into and out of the establishment, but without closer and more conspicuous inspection he can only speculate on the security. The horrs is doing fine as it awaits for it's master or stabling.
Jerax shakes his head. "Old and bitter. I suppose that's typical of those unbelievers who stare down into The Pit, knowing it comes for them soon. It's a shame. You were nearly interesting."
When Doctor Rohalendi makes her appearance, Jerax cuts off any questions but just answering, "She's training."
"Doctor Rohalendi, I presume. We need to discuss a subject that concerns you and your hospice. Do you have an office where we can speak?"
"Do people still congregate here at night? I'd prefer to have my bath shortly before some life actually enters this place."
"I'm dealing with a patient and it may be some time, so you can come back later in the evening and if I'm not busy we can speak then. IF that is not to your liking you can come in and help instead as I doubt you require your hands to speak. Either way you should help Maretia to her feet. She gets nauseous when she bends over."
"Yes, I own this establishment. And the decrees are hard for everyone, though somewhat less so now that someone has decided to get himself thrown into the stocks. A few people congregate at night, but I assure you we close long before the curfew and I remove people to ensure quality of the crowd before it violates edicts about public gatherings."
While Maximillian speaks to the owner, Apano slips back onto the floor. The two merchants in the corner don't even bother looking up when he returns. Other than those two a pair of sullen looking and tired eyed patrons nurse their breakfast alcohol.
The towering tiefling picks up Maretia like a toddler in his red muscular arms.
"I shall take my new cum depository into town and bring her back if she survives."
Alessandra quietly watches the libido induced grumpiness that is currently Jerax's mood.
"I will meet you later, Jerax."
Turning to the doctor,
"I have medical training. I shall assist, if you need it."
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During the Act
In the throes of passion, Jerax will try to make Maretia forsake the memory of her husband, and submit herself to Jerax Hellfire, her new master, fully. Then get her to praise Asmodeus during orgasm. That way if she dies, Jerax will have sent a soul to Hell that was likely not intending to go there.
I'm unsure what to roll, so I'll wait for The Abyss's judgement.
After the Act
If Maretia survives, Jerax looks down at the quivering old woman, and reminds her their time together need not end. That Maretia has something she can barter with for her youth back. If Maretia sells her soul to a devil for eternal youth, he can continue to be Jerax's servant, enjoying these daily 'exercises' for decades to come.
While lending medical aid to the doctor, Alessandra will attempt to start conversation. Topics such as about the doctor's past efforts in town, the medical experiences of herself and the doctor.
Mostly to prove she is a reasonable young woman.
Much to Jerax's surprise the older woman is quite resistant to the idea of being Jerax's servant and despite the modest physical resistance theres no question as to her consenting nature. Even if catching the calloused heel to the chin on occasion makes the experience uncomfortable for the tiefling. Worse still, turns out she had already pledged her soul, and most of her worldly possessions, to the church for the chance to rejoin her husband in hell making the whole transactional part of the abti-paladins plan fairly moot. Turns out in a country full of open devil worshipers competition between peers is an occupational hazard.
Alessandra joins the doctor inside the house getting absorbed into the strong smell of anti-septic. Motioning to a steaming basin of soapy water she says, "Wash your hands, tie up your hair and grab a cloth to wrap around your nose and mouth. Mr. Grossia isn't contagious but it's very likely we are."
Going upstairs Alessandra notes that this place might have been quite comfortable for a woman living alone to be in. But by the state of the creaking floor, the wear of the paint, and the fade of the curtains and few rugs on the floor this place has fallen into neglect. The one thing that can be said is that the house is perfectly, immaculately, clean. Whether through obsessive scrubbing, or overbearing vigilance dust seems to have been eradicated as a concept from this place. On the landing the doctor nods to another older woman whose bright red hair has long faded to a pale orange streaked with gray. Shes stares vacantly into nothing as her fingers fiddle with some knitting which she does not appear to pay much attention to. The woman is only old enough to be Alessandras mother but the vacant expression and haunted look behind the eyes suggests things she'd much rather not know.
In one of the sparsely furnished bedrooms an old man sits on a bench at the foot of a hard looking bed. His milky white eyes contrast sharply with the red of his cheeks. His shirtlessness reveals old and gnarled muscle that reminds Alessandra of old hard trees, an image made stronger by his calloused palms. Putting a hand on his shoulder and whispering something inaudible thw man grunts and shifta to the side revealing a back covered in large and what appear to be very painful boils. The largest being the size of her fist. Passing Alessandra the bucket of needles the doctor starts to lay out the hot towels saving one for her left hand as she takes a needle from the bucket with her right.
"This is Mr. Grossia. A mage cursed his sight in some forgotten war decades ago. By the time he was able to afford a cure nature had taken it the rest of the way. He still wakes up screaming some nights. He is quite drunk at the moment so if you wish to speak in private this is the best you can hope for here." As she finishes her statement the old man grunts as she begins her gruesome work the room quickly filling with the smell of blood and pus.
Max was delighted by this turn, although probably not for the reason the bar owner thought.
Later that evening, Jerax returns what's left of Maretia to the Rohalendi household.
Alessandra treats however and whereever she can.
With the drunk, "Hello mr Grossia. Have you heard any good rumors lately?"
She tries gauging the patients for local info and rumors while giving treatment, as far as she can.
Take the initiative you say.
Does this mean diplomatic talking i've rolled for, to the patients, and prior towards the doctor, does not count/work for this purpose?
However you have not seen any other patients outside the two old ladies out front and the very blind, very incapable of coherent thought at the moment mr. Grossia. The Dr. Pointed this out with the underatanding that you wanted to have a conversation with her. Since the purpose of your visit is to confront her about her debt and use the sensitive subject as leverage to your desires its something you'd have to approach directly.
However since your partner in crime went off to do unspeakable things to gullible old ladies if Alessandra wants the back up of her party on this we can change tracks to simply allow alessandra to find out more about the hospice and confront her with the larger group at a later time.
Ah, understood, thank you.
Pardon my confusion. I'll post something later today then.
With the drunk not much use as a source of information, Alessandra tries gauging the doc on the matter her debt. Of course not at all aware of that herself.
..."...and that woman bravely went on.
Have you ever run into a situation, where a burden seems to have been a constant for a long time?"
"You dropped something..." (picking up whatever)
"All the time" ,the doctor says matter of factly. "Compared to many of my patients, however, my burdens seem weightless. Most of the older people in this town gave up their lives and lost many friends and family in service to the crown. Some, like Mr Grossia here or Maretia outside bear the scars of both violence and apathy from friend and foe alike. If I can make the remainder of their lives slightly less miserable than I cobsider that a burden well carried."
Alessandra processes this information.
The doctor was clearly a moral character, putting welfare of others above any self time. Leverage in a conversation.
Alessandra cleaned her hands closing up her part of lending aid.
"Until next time, doctor.", and she takes her leave with a nod.
Later, as the remaining group gathers at the Arch and Lark to discuss what they've found so far noon turns into mid afternoon. Though more than a few people turn up to fill the tavern the owner is quick to turn people away as the tavern approaches the edict mandated limit. It seems any liveliness Maximillian might be expecting is severely limited by the government.
A room capable of easily allowing sixty people seems massive when barely ten are in here filling in their own private corners.
Jerax sighs as he leans back in his chair supported by his long legs.
"Eh. The only things I found out today is that Maretia already sold her soul to Hell to be with her long-dead husband, and that she's an old dirty wh0re. Any luck on your ends?"
Max slips away in the afternoon to catch up with Alessandra and Jerax somewhere other than the Arch and Lark, perhaps back at the Archbaron's estate.
"Apano slipped away somewhere--not sure what he's up to or if he's coming back. Strange fellow, that one. In the meantime, I'm playing the role of demanding nobleman. One of the owners of that place, Fordaneil Cembers, is more than happy to help me for the gold I'm paying. I understand you might have the other owner, Bolgart Caggan, still in the stocks?"
He pauses a moment for any response before continuing on. "With Miss Cembers' cooperation, I've tried to scrounge up our missing bard as entertainment for the night. I didn't get a promise that the bard would make it, but if he shows up and breaks curfew, we go arrest him. That'll blow my cover, of course, but so be it. I'll conjure some Dancing Lights as a signal to make the arrest, and I'll put him in your capable hands for a proper interrogation." Max seems to be excited by the prospect.
He turns to Alessandra. "Sounds like Jerax had some fun with Maretia. Have you gotten anything useful from the good doctor?"
Alessandra was sitting in her chair pondering some thoughts, on the task and personal. When addressed by Maximillian, she looks up.
"Yes, it seems Jarex has a thing for very mature women."
*cough*
"I tried gauging, without directly addressing the topic of her debt.
When i spoke of 'burdens' as a constant, she admitted having some. But she related herself to old Maretia and a patient i helped her with. Old and seasoned in the duty to queen and country."
"Compared to their 'unfortunate lives', violence and social abuse from friend and foe alike, she feels her own is weightless.
But still, she may yet be reminded that even that burden is not without risk of biting her in the back."
"Hm . . . I don't see how this good doctor will be of much use if she's so willing to bear her burdens. And if all she does is treat old and weak folk. They are hardly prime candidates for rebelling."
Max shrugs, then waves, dismissing the relevance of the doctor. "A talk with her can wait. I believe I shall have a bath waiting for me shortly. And perhaps a bard for the evening entertainment. Stay close. If you see green lights, that shall be your signal to approach and arrest the bard. Red lights shall mean no luck, and you can retire for the evening."
Unless there are any other schemes afoot, Max takes his leave, gets on his horse, and rides back to the Arch and Lark.
"If there is nothing else right now I'll do a perimeter walk of the town. Maybe find some clues of The Angel Knight business. If nothing pops up I'll likely walk back to The Ash House" Jerax announced.