Vaelor holds her spiked chain close and sobs.
She caresses the broken barbs and and bent links as one would a lover’s wounds.
She rubs it against her cheek leave livid red scratches against her pale blue grey skin.
Karik raises an eyebrow at Vaelor’s tears before turning to the group.
”Does anyone know the Mending cantrip?”
Ingrid shrugged as she waved her hands to get the sting out of them. "Nope. But I'm sure we can buy her a new one." She hoped that it came across as being helpful.
Eris begins to look about the area for a sign of which direction the tracks had gone, but it seems to be a hopeless endeavor, perhaps intentionally. So many tracks seem to converge here and then go off into different directions, it's as though this place is being purposefully used to conceal movement.
Franz casts a quick glance over the area but doesn't turn up much, perhaps still preoccupied by Eris's conversation with the statue's head.
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Eris walks back and forth pretending to explain what different tracks belong to, but eventually it's clear she has no idea where the trail she once followed leads.
"Curious," she says in mock-detective mode. " It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data. At least, I think I heard someone say that once," she adds.
Turning to the others, she says "But it seems our trail has gone cold. Our options are either to go back to town and interview some more pot-stirers, or we could follow each potential road, trail, or deer track out of this crossroads for as long as it leads."
I, for one, prefer the second. You too, Dad?
Vaelor stamps a foot petulantly.
”I’m not going on any silly wanders in the woods till my chain is fixed! Or I get a new one ...”
Karik sighs
”There’s really no point arguing with her when she gets like this. A new chain and ideally spot of torturing and she’ll be fine.”
”Fair ‘nuff.” Ingrid said. ”Might do a stakeout later. See who comes here. But for now we can leave.”
"Zis Angel Knight is thorough, is she not." The Doctor shakes his head. "Let us return to ze town. As you point out Ingrid, ve can lay a trap later should ve desire."
Raziya gives Vaelor a soothing smile. "Of course, Vaelor. I would be happy to mend your lovely chain."
"This will take a little while though, so feel free to double check the area."
Karik gives Raziya a grateful look and tussles Vaelor’s hair.
”Oh thank you!” Vaelor jumps to her feet and embraces Raziya before handing her the weapon. Without the most spiky of Vaelor’s chains wrapped around her the hug is less painful than usual but still uncomfortable with the other chains and minimal clothing.
She sits at Raziya’s and nuzzles her while Mending is used.
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"Zis Angel Knight is thorough, is she not." The Doctor shakes his head. "Let us return to ze town. As you point out Ingrid, ve can lay a trap later should ve desire."
When Franz discusses going back to town, Eris shrugs.
"Any way the wind blows--doesn't really matter to me," she says. [b]"She starts walking back toward town, with our without anyone else.
"What do we know?" Brogol asks, casting a wary look around the area one last time. "The bard's story checks out. He seems to have been alone and come across the Angel Knight. So we have confirmation that she exists, beyond the helmet. We don't know why the helmet came to Allamar's possession yet, do we?"
"We know that people - a lot of people, seemingly, make use of this area as a way station or crossroads."
"Seems to me that we could go talk to Allamar, but I doubt she's as easy to intimidate as the bard. We should check in with our lout of a barkeep too. See if he knows anything about the Reclamation."
The Doctor nods to each of Brogol's assertions. "Brogol, you are sharper than I initially took you for. Ze helmet's purpose is likely little more than propaganda, a way of advertising ze Angel Knight's presence without exposing her to capture. But it may also serve some other goal."
"This ruin advertises that ze Angel Knight's allies are many. But not so many that they vish to operate openly." He adjusts his glasses "Still easy enough to stamp out with ze right resources."
Raziya doesn't seem discomfited by Vaelor's chains or scanty attire, and manages to keep her concentration on the spell for the minutes it requires.
"There's really no reason not to interrogate him further, but Caggan's a very public figure without the shield of a church to hide behind. Even if he is a sympathizer, the Angel Knight would be foolish to lend him many secrets.
"It's possible he knows more than he thinks he does, but he did not take the opportunity to send a message to these traitors when he though it safe."
”I think we may as well let Caggan go. If we go Allamar it’s probably worth have a conversation about how far we take it. If we make even veiled threats and she calls our bluff... well it better not be a bluff... ”
Karik gives a little sigh.
”Any chance we can get away with just killing her now?”
"The Archbaron wished this town suppressed, but not in flames. Her death will give us flames, even if we accomplished it in secret. None would trust that an illness or accident befell her unless we could accomplish it before the town square."
Aye, Brogol agrees, nodding his head as Raziya speaks. "And Fex and Razelago wanted Caggin in the stocks, and his business shuttered. I agree he probably knows nothing, but best to keep him locked up for now. Plus, I need time for thirsty townfolk to find their way to the Arch and Lark."
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The Doctor listens in to the suggestions from the others and says "Very vell. It is time for a perfectly cordial chat wiz no threats, veiled or othervise. Let us find Allamar and see what she is villing to divulge freely."
About an hour later, you arrive at Church Square. Most of the townsfolk are quietly going about their business, although you did get a few glances; some are respectful, others furtive, and a smattering of scowls and muttered curses.
The doors to the church are open. While it's hard to see inside due to the bright light outside and the darker interior, you do see the silhouettes of a couple of people moving about.
Seeing that the rest of his small (but slightly more competent than he took them for) group is not jumping into action, the Doctor heads on into the church. If the Sword Knight would be anywhere, the church seemed a reasonable place to start. He takes a look around for her, and if she's not immediately available, he spends a moment asking for where she may have gone.
Brogol slides his burlap sack-mask and flips his cloakhood up before entering Longacre. Ignoring the furtive glances and scowls of the townsfolk - a mask makes it suprisingly easy, the driver finds - Brogol follows behind Franz and into the church, the heels of his boots clicking along the tile floor. As Franz approaches one of the people inside, Brogol slips his mask off but otherwise keeps his cloak up, and then spins slowly around to take in his surroundings.
Inside the sanctuary, the two shadows take form as a townswoman and Loran Allamar, one of the sword knights handsome twin sons. He observes your entry into the church but continues his discussion with the woman.
The Doctor, determined to treat the Sword Knight has her misguided sons with the utmost respect, walks over and listens in to the conversation between Loran and the townswoman. He waits to get the man's attention once the conversation is over, but otherwise pokes his nose into things without any shame.
At Eris' sing-song, he glances her way and almost takes out his notes. However, rather than make a big deal out of it, he just gives the tiniest shake of his head in her direction.
"Kid's not happy we're here," Brogol whispers, "One eye always on us. Smiling and chatting the lady is an act."
"I'm going to look around a bit. Love church architecture. 'Specially the doors."
Brogol glances briefly towards the door to the west, his subtext clear. Spread out. He can't keep eyes on all of us. I'd like to go through the door.
”But why? I thought they’re kind says that all are welcome.” She said with a very toothy smile. Her sharp teeth and claws were clearly visible. Of all the types of people, it was his kind that bothered her the most. The handsome knights who considered themselves pure and holy, all the while passing judgement on others. It was why ‘good’ was a farce, and why ‘law’ was paramount. For those who claimed righteousness inevitably construed it in such a way that benefited themselves.
As you begin to spread out, Loran clearly becomes somewhat perturbed and flustered. Franz overhears part of the conversation: the woman seems to be asking for help caring for her husband who was injured in the field, and Loran promises either he or his brother will come help later in the day but assures her it does not sound life-threatening. He pats her reassuringly on the shoulder, intones a blessing of Iomedae upon her and her family, then turns his attention to all of you.
"So," he said loudly, his voice amplified by the sanctuary's acoustics, "what brings the Archbaron's wise and caring emissaries to this humble church? Looking for spiritual guidance? To convert, perhaps?"
The Doctor stiffens at the disregard Loran shows "Hmph. I had come to speak with your mother. But I vould be remiss not to offer aid where you have offered nothing but platitudes." He turns to the woman, drawing himself up and adjusting the position of his glasses. "Miss, I vill provide treatment to your husband. For a common household injury, there is much that can be done without relying on ze aid of-" He pauses to eye Loran up and down. "-zis fellow."
He takes the woman with the injured husband aside and asks her more questions about her husband's condition, the Sword Knight completely forgotten for now.
Waiting for a moment where the Allamar boy's attention seems to be on the Doctor, Brogol ducks his head and pushes through the western door, opening the door just a crack and sliding through, his cloak trailing, silent like a wisp, behind him.
”Why, Doktor, how kind of you. I am sure that the church here is quite busy these days. What, with so much happening...now, given how we are all here to help, can we go and see your good mother?”
Karik follows the party into the church somewhat reluctantly and keeps his distance from the alter and holy symbols as much as he can.
Once the sword knights son is distracted and Brogol goes for the door he ducks back out of the church and goes to check the other door outside.
Once every has spread out investigating Vaelor goes into the church, relishing the the taboo nature of her presence there.
If Loran starts to look around she will sidle up with a smile.
”Any chance of a blessing cutie?”
Brogol slips through the door to the west and finds himself in the narthex. Inside, the space is airy and open with a number of folksy crafts decorating the walls—mostly carved or woven pieces featuring the holy symbol of Iomedae. The chamber’s most impressive features are its stained-glass windows, the largest of which depicts a giant, golden figure bearing the sunburst and sword symbol of Iomedae floating skyward while small, blue figures below exalt her. A small door leads north. A couple of parishioners are here having a quiet conversation.
Back in the sanctuary, Loran looks rather perturbed at the doctor's reproach and forwardness but it gives way to a slight smirk as he expects the doctor, clearly not a cleric, to fail.
She describes how her husband was tilling the field and eventually felt a stabbing pain in his back. There's no obvious injury and he's able to walk, albeit in a stooped posture. It looks like a repetitive strain injury that could be healed with either rest or a lesser restoration.
While he tries to watch the doctor, Loran casts a disapproving eye at Vaelor in her skimpy and "spikey" manner of dress. He doesn't seem to quite understand what she is, but knows she isn't sincere. "No," he replies flatly. When Eris asks about confessional, he just rolls his eyes and mutters.
To Ingrid, he says, "Your desire to 'help' has been manifestly displayed. It seems we just have a disagreement as to who should be helped. Why exactly do you want to see the Sword Knight?"
Finding the narthex occupied, Brogol steps forward, his gait wobbly, as if impaired, his gaze at the ground, cloakhood hanging low over his face. He shambles towards the parishioners, stopping nearby to listen for a few moments to their conversation, back turned to the churchgoers as he pretends to study one of the windows.
Letting go a ragged cough, Brogol stops, his posture stooped, in front of the window depicting Iomedae. "Inheritor, help me!" he wheezes, running his sleeve across his nose and mouth. "Had this damn sickness a week. Got if from my fool nephew, who's now damn near close to meeting Pharasma herself! I'm not ready to go, m'Lady! I still have work to do for ya!"
Stooping even lower, Brogol lets go another series of ragged coughs, a long line of spittle falling to the floor, and followed by another rattling wheeze...
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With the worried wife, the Doctor takes on a reassuring tone "By the description you've given me, I can tell with some certainty that this injury is one of repetitive strain. Though magic may alleviate the symptoms, it is best for your husband to remain in bed and allow his muscles to heal naturally. More importantly..." He adjust his glasses, confident in his assessment, and in his element delivering medical wisdom to the plebeians. "The danger of injuries like this is that unless your husband changes the way he works, he will experience the same injuries and pain again - whether the current symptoms are allowed to heal naturally or are healed by magic."
He places a hand on the woman's shoulder "I would be happy to speak with your husband and show him some exercises to help him heal more quickly. If he can explain how he works in the field, perhaps we can also change how he works and avoid this happening again."
The conversation between the townsfolk in the narthex is of little consequence, neither rebellious or spiritual, and concerned about the mundanities of daily life. As Brogol begins to cough and wheeze, they pause and look over at him. "Oh... sir! Are you okay? That sounds terrible?" One of them starts to approach Brogol when the other clasps her arm and whispers, "Don't get too close. Could be the fever." The both back away slightly, then one says, "You wait here, sir... we'll go get you some help. Surely the Sword Knight or one of her boys can heal ye!"
With that, they retreat into the sanctuary where Loran is engaged with the others...
The woman seems initially distrustful of the doctor's odd accent and mannerisms, but she and the husband appreciate the gentle advice and interest. "Ah, easier said than done, 'm 'fraid. But maybe you know somethin' we don't." They give the doctor instructions on where to find their farm and start to leave when Loran says after them, "My brother or I will be there by the 'morrow to pray to Iomedae with you." He looks back at Franz and says, "You may be able to offer advice on how to avoid the injury -- and for that I'm sure they will be thankful -- but words are shallow compared to the miracles She can grant."
The Doctor nods reassuringly to the woman with the injured husband and promises to visit. Once she's gone, he stands stiff-backed next to Loran. His glasses conceal his eyes, but his contempt for Loran's "miracles" is clear enough otherwise. "Yes of course. When people show zey can do vell enough vithout your goddess, zat is when you decide it is time to intervene." He sniffs sharply "Yes, all our mortal efforts are shallow compared to ze miracles She can grant. Should she choose to."
Should that get Loran fired up however, the Doctor lets off. He's in good enough control of his irritation that he's not about to get in a fight with the Sword Knight's son prior to speaking with her.
The ragged coughs from the narthex draw Vaelors attention.
Master come watch this! He’s being so funny.
Reluctantly Karin joins her. An eyebrow raised a Brogol’s performance.
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Reluctantly Karin joins her.
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Eris sighs as Loran says he won't take her confessions.
"If a lady can't confess her wrongs here, how will she ever find the fluttery peace of Iomedae?" she asks.
"So you asked why we wanted to see the Sword Knight--well, there's a lot going on in this town right now. She's just so important, that we wouldn't want to do anything without consulting with her first. To make sure--ya know--that she approves. And stuff."
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After allowing for a few minutes of separation from her cohorts to improve her cover, Raziya strides in with a warm smile, her long reversed cloak covering up the more damning elements of her imposing armor.
Eris and Vaelor were far more distracting than she, so instead of handling the boys, Raziya focused on the other members of their flock. Mutterings about farm life and church gossip rarely unearthed secrets on their own, but there were many other little things worth knowing. 'When the Allamars leave to heal someone, do they travel alone?' 'How often does Caggan attend services?' 'Who does he talk to?' 'When the Sword-Knight wished a crowd like she'd gathered the previous day, who did she use to spread the word? Were the messages all word of mouth, or did she trust some to paper and quill?' It could take many such threads to bring together a tapestry, but Raziya had always been a patient weaver.