Ah, The Village. Not to be confused with The Hamlet, which at its height was far superior to this... gathering of houses. Look at all of these people around you with their happy faces and peaceful lives.

Disgusting.

Part of their security is due in part to the distance from The Wild, but also the relentless vigilance of my old rivals in life, the Order of Quarter, who remain ever watchful for danger from the part of The Wild under my dominion. I don't see why, though. When I was in charge, there was no danger from the Wild that threatened the parts of the Hamlet I cared about, so their services are largely political posturing as far as I can see. I think they were just envious of my vast holdings.

In any case...

When you arrive from your carriage, it is late in the evening. You had managed to catch Bob between his runs, and it seems the carriage can leave The Hamlet with little trouble - no accidents beset the two of you along your route. These villagers of various mortal races stare at the two of you like the vacuous sheep they are, as if they have never seen mages before.

I recall a similar reception myself, with a little more fear, obeisance, and scurrying in their movements. Ah, pleasant memories.

Bob has advised taking rest in the local tavern once you are done speaking with the Order of Quarter in their church, although he notes two heavily armed members of it are speaking at a table outside of the tavern right now, talking over mugs of milk. He whispers that perhaps you should consider them practice for talking to the high priest of the Order of Quarter. But if you wish to go straightaway to the church proper instead, he will not object - but short of a direct order, he will not ride back through The Wild at night.

The real adventure, at least for you, begins here. Choose your path well.

"Dia, burly men drinking milk," she chuckled.  "Are they worth your time?  If all members of this Order are equal they will do just as well as the ones in the church."

"Necromancer in a church?" the lizard on Olivia's breast asks in Olivia's mind.

"Charles Dickens here wonders about whether you'd even want to set foot in a church, given your, uh," Olivia looked at Dia's accessories, "affiliations."

Dia comments in a low voice to Olivia
"Well. I'm not dead yet so I probably won't burst into flames for walking in. Although they can probably detect me if they pay attention."

He looks down at his cloths.
"Although a change of cloths would probably make this much easier.  Unfortunately I seem to have misplaced all my coins. If you are willing to buy a suit for me, I will pay you back in Residuum."

"Can't cost too much," Olivia said, sizing up Dia.  "Let's find a shop that'll serve your size."  Olivia said.

"Bob," Olivia addressed the driver, "take us to a tailor's shop first."

Dia smiles and follows along.
"Thank you."

"Eh?" Bob was caught off guard by the request. He looked more like a stereotypical necromancer than Dia did, but oddly, none of the locals were giving him any looks. "Oh, yes. Tailor."

Bob takes them to Taylor the Tailor, who only charges a mere silver coin for lousy clothing (Peasant's Clothes) or one gold for something more suited to an adventurer (Traveler's Clothes). Of course, if one wishes to aim higher on the shelf, they can arrange those.

Olivia looks at Dia's drab demeanor and considers the works of classics buried deep within the library where Derrick had plucked her from for this adventure.  Her eyes scanned the available bolts of fabric and and the example styles that lay strewn about.  Then an appropriate outfit came to mind and she smiled at Dia in such a way that he may question who may actually be the more evil.

Directing the tailor, she was able to procure the style and measurements of a miniature Dorian Grey.  A fine light gray suit and pants with ruffled blouse beneath.  Olivia carefully pulled at the ruffled cuffs and material at his breast to have it speak volumes of his status while also taking up as much volume as possible.  Then she propped a proper matching top hat upon his head and thrust a can into his hands.  It was fortunate that a top hat that matched the fabric just happened to be here as she doubted a proper haberdashery was in the area.

Finally a mirror was placed in front of Dia.  "Charming indeed," Olivia said.

"He's a fop," Charles Chickens said into her mind.

Dia seems to greatly enjoy the talored suit and top hat.
"I think I look good in this. And I look like a Noble. So that will definitely help."

It costs Olivia a mere five gold to pay the tailor. When they come out of the shop, money hopefully having exchanged hands, one of the paladins at the table simply notes the duo curiously, his eyes flickering with a noticeable shine as they assess the two. The other, however, seems to be distracted and gesticulating about something.

What do you do?

Before he enters the Temple of the Order of Gate-or-Aid he whispers to his familiar


After he is finished he enters the building confidantly.

He bows with a flurish and says
"Greetings Paladins of the Order of Gate-or-Aid. We are representatives of a Town that wants to request your Aid. No doubt you Heard about Baron Darkness and his manor full of undead. The towns folk are tired of nightly raids by the undead and humbly requests you aid in clearing out the Darkest Manor."

OOC:

10:17, Today: Dia de Muertos rolled 27 using 1d20+19.  Persuasion check. Please help the Town.


This message was last edited by the player at 16:19, Fri 10 Dec 2021.