”Stupid rain,” Pharice grumbles to himself as he cautiously watches the doctor disappear into the crowd.
"Don't you worry, advocate, I'm on the job right now. No indulging until the task is done." Draco says with a smirk, whistling for his dog to keep up with them as the crowd disperses and they move their way through towards the tavern.
"Sounds like a plan." Jerax smiled with his booming voice. "Let's go." The towering tiefling walks behind the group, keeping an eye out for a surprise attack.
With that bit of civil discomfort out of the way the group leaves the moist grumbling crowd to its own musings before making there way down to the sleepy tavern.
Despite rhe weather the hard packed clay and rock that serves as thw towns eoad is easy to walk in as beat down as it is to the point where theres little to no run off or mud. The tavern itself seems quite peaceful and its colorful paint and stylized sign reading "The Last Stand" is a whimsical warning to those trying to remain on the side of sobriety. There are plenty of places to nail the notice beneath the covered porch of the tavern.
The tavern stands there in the wet and the cold. Menacingly. Waiting foe you to make the first fateful move.
Jerax takes the notice and the hammer and nails and attached the public missive on the front main post of The Last Stand.
”Well done. Lets move on quickly to the next location. We don’t wan’t to encourage any more legal discussions.”
"I hear that.", and she glances sideways at Lucien.
"You always were the slickest with words in public speeches practice."
As the others start to love away Jerax struggles a little bit with hammering the nail into the iron hard column. The noise is enough to attract the attention of the byildings occupants and as Jerax finally completes his task a large man erupt from the front door with the same energy one qould use for chasing a thief. Bearing the blush of an experienced alcoholic and the build of someone accustomed to hard work a cloud of the heavy aroma of whisperwood chili follows him and judging from the heavy pot and sauce laden spoon being swung angrily in Jerax's general direction, it would be safe to assume he was in the middle of cooking up a batch of the potent bar pasttime.
"What in the hells are you doing you horned whoreson! Does this look like the type of place where you can damage my porch as you please!?! Take out the damages in coin or your damned hide I will!"
The towering tiefling doesn't say anything, yet fixes a stern gaze at the cook. Jerax holds up a single finger pointing up, then slowly points to the public notice he just attached to the column.
"You can read, can't you?"
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Alessandra gives the guy a cold glare.
With an equally cold tone in her voice; "And you are, sir?"
Lucien takes one look at the boisterous innkeeper and decides that his persuasive abilities would be wasted in this case.
"Let the physical types handle this one. It seems like a good public demonstration of proper respect for representatives of the Archbaron would be in order here." he thinks to himself as he takes a step back and folds his arms, watching the confrontation unfold with seemingly detached interest.
Jerax proceeds to step off the porch with an exagerrated flourish meant to intimidate as much as reveal. But the onrush of childhood memories from this mans actions in another lifetime mutes the effect he intended. Despite this the icy glare coming from the bow woman causes the owner to look at her sideways as he steps toward the notice.
"Read? What in your mother's pus ridden womb has you putting holes in my business have to do with reading?", He turns to read the notice moving his lips slightly as he goes down the lines. He stops suddenly and turns back to you shaking his head aggressively, his face reddening with anger though his voice is surprisingly calm, "no, nope, nuh uh,"he flicks his spoon in the direction of the notice giving it a light baptism in chili, "he can have his taxes or he can take away my customers, not both. Take it back to him and make him revise it. I refuse to put up with it. Be back with some courtesy and some edicts that aren't half cracked."
He pauses himself breathing somewhat heavily as he puts his spoon back in his pot to gove it a stir clearly on the edge of losing his temper.
Jerax chuckles with a deep menacing resonance. For all I know it was pus-ridden! Never knew the c*nt!" The towering tiefling laughed a little more.
"Now listen, dumba$$. You and every one in this village will adapt to this new ruling from the Archbaron. You got a problem? Take it up with the notary."
The dark look on the owners face says he's clearly had enough, though not enough to the point where attacking a group of armed assailants holds much promise yet. His next ultimatum makes his desires and intentions quite clear.
"Leave. Or the next boot you'll be tasting will be mine. Or I can s$$~ down your throat since kissing the arse of your betters appeals to you so much. Either way I don't want to see any of your faces here again! Hear me! Get out!" He gesticulates wildly adding a spray of a unique blend of spices and herbs to the drizzle on the street.
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"We can leave. But the notice stays here it is, unmolested and unaltered. It is a direct decree from your lawful liege and if it is not respected, we have no choice but to conclude that you have acted in defiance of the law and act accordingly." Lucien says calmly, his tone and expression perfectly civil despite the unmistakable threat of violence.
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Draco steps alongside Jerax's intimidating form, giving the cook a scornful and unimpressed lookover. The motion was simple to understand; you mess with one you mess with all of them. The red son of a b%%@* was a loudmouth and a one of those real (un)holy types but it didn't mean that Draco didn't have his back. Draco's left hand remained low, silently giving the signal to hold to the large dog who growled menacingly behind him.
Jerax noticed Draco and his dog next to him. The tiefling smiled to himself, appreciating the gesture of solidarity. "See ya around, cookie." Jerax says with emphasis, backing away but not taking his eyes of the large man.
The man doesn't respond and simply crossing his arms glaring daggers down on the lot of you from his porch. Not seeming to be inclined to immediately jump into a muddy brawl nor see you off with more colorful insults. As you make your leave you get some diatance before you hear the door to the tavern slam shut and the notice untouched for the moment.
Jerax turns to the other and sighs. "Well, where next?"
Only once the door slams shut does a small movement alert everyone to the elven sniper lowering the crossbow nobody saw him raise.
”I believe the castle gate, and then the jail,” he says, still watching the tavern door for the man to make a last desperate charge with a sauté pan.
The road to the castle gate is made worse by the increasing rain. Having transformed from a light drizzle to a modest downpour. Cursing cimri does her best to preserve the all important dismissal under her cloak.
The wester gate, as it's comically called, would be about as effective against invaders as the chest high wooden fence surrounding the town. The short stone wall to either side of the squat stone tower doing little more than deterring wild animals from wandering freely into the town square.
The gate, as far as memory serves, has never been shut, both out of practicality and also from the undersptanding that it would serve much the same purpose as corking a wine bottle with dozens of holes drilled into it. A small house sits next to the road a short ways off. An old man in a rocking chair watches the world go by as you make your way down the street.
Less known is that the pair were military officers with respectable records before they retired and married to settle into a quiet life in Longacre.
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Jerax walks up to the massive gate and figures where to best place the public notice.
As jerax dutifully unrolls the notice he catches a line about this particular gate being closed. This would give jerax ample places with which to nail the notice.
"Would you look at that, all the space to choose from here. And no spoon wielding buffoon here."
"Well, let us get on with it then." Draco says, noticing the older couple on their porch watching them. With as friendly of a smile as he could muster, he would wave to them before approaching the gate. "We have to seal the gate, yeah?"
The towering tiefling decides the right side of the gate opening, at shoulder-level (eye-level for most people) will be a good place to post the notice and begins hammering.
Jerax sets about his work when the expected interruption occurs.
The old man seems content to watch you roll by until the hammering begins. Its at this pont he starts yelling at you drom his porch.
"Oi! No advertising on the gate by order of the baron!" If you want to advertise your works there's a notice post in the town square!"
"Old man! We are on business from the Baron. We've been instructed to leave a note upon this gate, just as we did on the notice post in the town square." Draco shouts back, shaking his head a little. This whole town has a damn problem with them.
The old man gets off his porch and makes his way toward you with the look of a man who just caught a bunch of rabbits digging up his garden. He gives each of you a sidelong glance as he approaches the still open gate and the notice nailed into one of the doors by Jerax's now practiced hand.
He takes a quick read over it before he calls over his shoulder. "BO! GET OUT HERE!! BARONS TRYING TO CLOSE THE GATE!"
The call to arms put out a large middle aged woman, the alpha of the pack, erupts from inside the house in an apron. Built in such a way that showed her matriarchal forebears preferred their men large and broad. Moving out with the grace of a battleship leaving harbor she confronts the group with all the mustered energy of a woman being denied her expired coupon. The old man quickly points out and explains the decree before she rears on you.
"Damn you lackeys for this insult! We’ve kept this town safe and this gate open—except for nights and holidays—for all the eighteen years Dent and I have minded it! No cow-pile baron or his trumped-up dung-berries are
going to make us close it just so he can feel mighty standing on his foot stool."
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"Well, then CONGRATULATIONS, LADY!" Jerax bellowed, showing his fanged mouth inches from the battleaxe, cleared tired of this s#|t.
"You and your husband's job just became half as stressful. JUST LEAVE THE DAMN GATE CLOSED!"
"You're getting paid for your work, and we get by working other jobs.
As far as 'lackeys', she says that with an icy tone, "we're all serving in the larger whole. In such a sense, you are as much a lackey as you claim us to be."
"There's things you don't like, and things we don't like. But we suck it up and move forward, so that we will come out even tougher. If you have kept watch over the gate for that long, respect for the duty where it is due."
She steps closer to the woman, giving around the same amount of sass in return.
"You don't strike me as a woman who lets a bump in the road stop her. Or am i wrong?"
No cow-pile baron or his trumped-up dung-berries are
going to make us close it just so he can feel mighty standing on his foot stool.
"A wise woman once told me, that nothing is forever. Every day can bring surprises.", she lets this hang in the air for a moment.
The couple visibly flinch at and take steps away from the tieflings outburst clearly cowed by his presence. Bo however has less patience for Alessandra's sermon.
"Don't be trying to preach to me about bad times young lady! I was leading men through mud and blood for queen and country when you were but a whelp at your mums feet! My duty doesn't require pay nor the intereference of some puffed up coward in his castle! Can you say the same?"
Just as the larger older woman is about to go into sermon of her own Cimri steps back over the fence from the outside of the gate violating the sanctity of the towns borders to deliver some vulgar insults of her own.
"You can die for your duty too old hag." Cimri says a vicious smile slicing through her face. "And don't think crying to auntie will help you either. So maybe take big guy's news to heart and give it a rest."
The woman seems ready to double down before her husbands hand on her back proves the voice of reason. With little they can realistically do she impotently seethes in silence.
"F+*%ing civilians..." Draco mutters, shaking his head as he watches with arms folded. The rest of his cohorts seemed to be reaching their limit and the mercenary could understand.
Again, in the midst of all the chaos, shouting, and threats, the elf stands with his crossbow trained on the belligerent woman, so still as to escape immediate notice. Just because she seems to be backing down is no reason to relax his aim, however.
The old couple do little but mutter amongst themselves as Jerax finishes his work. Though the rest remain somewhat alert it's pretty clear after a moment that for all the bluster their would be no violent follow ups to the complaints of the woman and her man.
With the sign up, Alessandra looks towards Cimri.
"That leaves the family visit. You ready?"
"I'm sure it will be quick and painful", Jerax comments as he puts the hammer and nails away.
"Goodness. If I ever become so damn ornery in my old age, kill me please Pharice." Draco mutters from the back, watching as the gate was closed and the notice placed upon it. All that was left was relieving the sheriff of her position and the deputies that were with her. The idea did bring a grin to his face; there was something about putting authority in their place. It was even better when you had the authority to do it yourself.
Your work done and the old couple left dispirited you make your less than merry way through mist and mud to your final destination.
With its unevenly mortared stones and barred windows, this squat structure looks like a miniature fortress. Despite the row of horseshoes hung beneath its sign, nothing can make the plain word “Jail” look welcoming. Two wooden pillories stand empty in front of the building. No one stands by it but a peal of laughter from within betrays the presence of people within the jailhouse. The mud here is particularly sucking adn you find it difficult to trudge through the evil stuff to the actual jailhouse.
Jerax looked over to the pillories as the tiefling walked through the mud to the Longacre Jailhouse.
The knight of Asmodeus remembers a different time in his life when Jerax spent many long hours within those same pillories.
"I might actually enjoy this", the antipaladin muttered to himself.
Jerax knocks on the jailhouse door.
Pharice nods at Draco’s request. The small smile playing at the corners of his mouth suggests he might enjoy such an assignment.
At the jail, he keeps his crossbow loaded and ready, but tucks it beneath his cloak.
Knocking on the door you hear a muffled voice inviting you within. Piling into the jail the four deputies smiles disappear from their faces as they recognize who you are, and just how armed everyone is. The Sheriff seems unconcerned as she waves for you to follow her to her office, separated from the common lobby by only a waist high rail.
"I don't like how you decided to come to me so late in the morning. I've had seven complaints about you and the Baron's decree including one woman absolutely scandalized I can't simply arrest Jerax for being an armed tiefling. It's good that you have grown so big. At least I don't have to look for the bloodied sack they'd stuff you in."
Putting down the cup of warm tea she was holding she sits at her desk as the rest of her deputies regard you with suspicion. For her part the sheriff looks tired.
"Alright let's see the decrees I've been hearing about all day. Must be nice to make all these wonderful decisions and not have to enforce any of them."
As if on cue Cimri comes from behind the group holding the fateful piece of documentation that would end her career. Delicately unfolding it with all the drama of unveiling a new painting she takes the time to flatten out the paper and place it on the womans desk in front of her to the sheriff's visible confusion.
The confusion turns to puzzlement, then further confusion as she reads it once, twice, looks up at you as if searching for any sign that it's a prank. Cimri looks to be getting giddier and giddier.
After a tense moment and some shuffling of the deputies behind you the sheriff lets out a soft chuckle and stands up suddenly drawing her sword and with the same theatricality that Cimri presented the letter of dismissal she lays the ebon hilted blade atop it on the desk. Following it up by taking off her vest of office and deposits it on top. Still wearing the hard smile she collects her few belongings and starts stuffing them into a bag kept under the desk including her personal crossbow.
As she goes about the task dispassionately Cimri seems dissatisfied with the performance. After another minute she growls. "Well?"
As if noticing her niece for the first time the woman looks up. "Well what? This is the best news I've received all week. I get to collect my travel writ and ride to Egorian to collect my pension. I heard Westcrown opera has gotten a lot more interesting lately, maybe I'll pay a visit. Maybe drop into a brothel and have some handsome young man beat the cobwebs out of me for a change of pace. In the meantime you can take the brunt of the hatred for a coward's decrees. Thank you my niece for delivering such good news. I knew you'd make a good servant of the Baron if you simply applied yourself."
She says the last line with some sarcasm and her smile broadening she shoulders the pack and leaves with nothing else to say.
The rest of the deputies look stunned unable to process what just happened. Cimri's face is a look of barely contained fury. She stands there shaking.
Jerax lets out an audible, anxious sigh. "Yep. Quick and painful."
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After the tirade between the two of family members finally pass, Draco can't help the snicker that escapes him. It seemed the older woman still had the upper hand, even if Cimri was hoping to wipe her face in the mud. Still, it wouldn't be good if the newly appointed law in the town drew blades for no reason on the retired woman. Stifling his own amusement at the situation, Draco's hand would slip onto Cimri's shoulder in a show of encouragement.
"Don't let the old bat spook you dear. We have a town to run." Draco said with a matter-of-fact tone to his voice. Acting as if he owned the place, he would move around to the other side of the desk and calmly sit back in the former sheriff's chair. Looking at the stunned deputies, he'd give them a nod towards the decree upon the table. "You're all relieved of duty. Hand in any official documentation that came with your station and don't cause any trouble out in Longacre. We want a nice, peaceful town, don't we?"
Pharice offers the retired sheriff a respectful salute as nod as she departs. ”It is unfortunate that she is not the baron, but that is not the way it is.”
There's a moment of stunned silence as the former sheriff leaves the building. As they turn towards you Draco goes into his audacious their faces turn into ones of outrage. One of the deputies lifts his crossbow threateningly toward Draco.
"You get out of that damn chair. Won't accept it. Definitely won't accept you."
"Do you really want to do something rash here?", Alessandra asks the guy, while looking at the guy with a yet unimpressed expression.
"You either lower your weapon and leave, or we'll be forced to defend ourselves, if you keep pointing that crossbow our way."