NPC: Razelago's page

Justimar perhaps senses a hint of amusement and approval in Razelago's voice as he replies. "There will be grumbling, of course, but most of Longacre's citizens know their place. For those that don't—well, I should think the archbaron will need a sterner sheriff than the one he has."

"I'm afraid I've nothing more than an errand for you today, but one well suited to your skills. I met with the Archbaron last night," the silhouetted man says with no further introduction. Razelago's silhouette inclines a hand toward a stack of rolled parchments on the table. "He has issued several new decrees that he'd like posted across town to inform the citizenry."

"Post these decrees at the notice post in the church square, the jail, the Last Stand Tavern, and the Castle Gate. And while you're at the jail, stop by the sheriff's office. The Archbaron has a second decree for you to deliver." Razelago's shadow tilts toward Cimri, who picks up a folded page from the table. "One that dismisses Rhona Staelish as the sheriff of Longacre. You have until noon today. Perform as reliably as you have in your last two tasks, and I'll pay what we agreed upon for your first task. If this assignment goes smoothly, the Archbaron would like to meet with you. It sounds as though he might soon have some civil positions to fill."

The group splits up on the way out of the town square, as the Sheriff and her deputies manage to stop the argument before it turns violent, quickly reuniting for the trip back to the Ash House.

Arruk, if you like, you can retrieve the helmet on the way back without incident.

Once assembled in the burned-out manor once more, the group again finds themselves gathered in the ruined library with its silhouetted inhabitant. Cimri recounts the events of the afternoon, emphasizing Arruk's excellent idea to steal the Angel-Knight's helmet. After listening, the man responds in his wheezing, high-pitched voice.

"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. 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."

Razelago's silhouette nods its head at Justimar and Amatsu's words - he seems to approve of her assessment of why Thrune would allow Iomedean worship to be practiced openly, but does not interrupt. When Justimar concludes, he leans forward with interest. If the pair could see his face, they might have seen him smile. "The distribution of the sashes is at your discretion. This assignment is as much a fulfillment of my goals as it is an opportunity for you to impress me with your problem-solving abilities. I am pleased you are taking these matters into your own hands - it shows that you possess the initiative and cleverness that I so value in my business partners." He pauses a moment, surveying the group. "Are there any further questions? I am sure you are as eager as I am to learn what Allamar has to say to the people of Longacre."

[Image Link for the Sashes]

The silhouetted man leans back at whatever table or desk hid behind the screen, arching his fingers together. "I admire your astute observation of the facts with which you have been presented, Lord Justimar. I can understand how it may seem to you that you would be risking your own status by being so bold about your loyalty to the Archbaron as to wear his symbol — but I assure you that the opposite is true. There are things in motion which are set to draw the gaze of the Thrice-Damned House down from lofty matters of state to the everyday workings of towns like Longacre. When that gaze falls here, it will be of great benefit to you that your loyalty to the House of Thrune has been shown to exceed your loyalty to the community." He leans forward. "And I assure you, your involvement in the tannery operation should be of no concern to you. The Sheriff is beholden to the Archbaron's authority, and I am certain he would be loathe to allow such loyal subjects to languish in prison for carrying out a lawful tax collection and the disposal of two dangerous and likely rabid animals."

Razelago turns in his chair, looking now at Vance. "As for 'why you' — I see this as a twofold opportunity. First, a way for myself to present the townsfolk with evidence that their lord is watching and there are still those loyal to him in these times of dissension — and an opportunity for the four of you to demonstrate both the strength of your loyalty and the quality of your judgment. I look forward to hearing of how you comport yourselves at this sermon, and of what this upstart priestess has to say."

Razelago's office is as it was before, only now a small, black lacquered box sits on the table before the paper screens. Once all are assembled, Razelago 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."

"Good night," Razelago says in farewell as the lights dim behind him, the violet lantern fading to darkness and the silhouette vanishing behind the paper screen. The krenshar stretches, yawns, turns a few times in a circle and lies back down on the pile of pulped paper.

From the blown-out windows, the first hint of the sky brightening can be seen on the eastern horizon, signaling that it is nearly dawn. Cimri leads the group down to the parlor, the room with the fireplace they passed earlier. Sitting on the table is a large wooden trunk, which she quickly opens to reveal five sturdy leather cases, each stamped with the name of one member of the group in block lettering. Also in the chest is a spread of fine food - eight bottles of a fine Wiscrani barbera wine, several loaves of fresh bread, garlic-flavored butter, and a variety of smoked fish and boar's meat. The food comprises a veritable feast - among the finest food any of the group has ever had in their lives. Even Justimar and Amatsu are suitably impressed by the quality, comparing it to fine food to which the wealthy and powerful are accustomed.

The contents of the cases are listed below:

The man behind the screen does not seem offended by Arruk's brusqueness. "I'm afraid these are sensitive times and I don't yet know you. If our association proves mutually profitable, and you comport yourself honorably in your dealings, trust might come—in time."

Knowledge Results: Vance has heard no mention of Razelago from anyone in town but Cimri.

The mysterious man occasionally nods during the retelling, but doesn't speak again until Cimri's recounting is complete. "Excellent. You’ve done well, Cimri, and your associates sound like individuals of rare potential. You'll all find your payment waiting in the parlor below, along with a gift for each of you. Go, enjoy, celebrate. You deserve a reward for your impressive work. We'll talk more in the near future."

Cimri thanks the silhouetted man and heads for the door, eager to see what Razelago means by a gift.

Toppled bookshelves, a table, and some chairs half-covered in ivy suggest the room beyond was once a library. The ashes and pulp of burned, waterlogged books lay heaped amid fallen furniture, creating a large nest of sorts against one wall. A set of folding paper screens divides the room. A lantern flickers on the opposite side, projecting the silhouette of a desk and high-backed chair upon the thin paper.

Dozing on the ground on the near side of the paper screen is an earless, panther-like animal, which perks its head up and looks at the newcomers with suspicion.

At the same time the light behind the paper screen slowly intensifies, casting the stark silhouette of a bald figure seated at a desk upon the divider. After a moment of slow shuffling, a high-pitched voice, sounding as though it could belong to someone either very young or very old, wheezes from behind the screen. "Cimri. Is it done?"