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We're back with more 
! Come hell or high water, we're finishing this today because I'd like to move on with this LP sometime before I hit middle age.
Moving on, we have a woman named Indarah. At first I was convinced she was a backer NPC, then I Googled her and I had it confirmed. Indarah is attached to one of the single worst quests in all of WOTR in Act 5. She's attached to the LMAO ITS FALLOUT quest that we will see in probably a year or so knowing the pace I take through these things.
Suddenly this dialogue we're about to see makes a lot more sense.
Indarah: An imposing young oread is surrounded by a crowd of crusaders who are hanging on to her every word. "...I hope this example clearly illustrates the difference between Jistka legionnaires from the Last War and the crusaders. The perfection of form and spirit they were imbued with during creation turned them into parts of a well-balanced war machine — not a ragtag bunch of individuals, but a united whole."
Indarah: "Now tell me again why I am supposed to be impressed by your reckless assaults, where everyone is fighting for their ego and for the right to beat their peers to a — swift but pointless — heroic sacrifice?"
Some of the crusaders grumble unhappily, but it is clear that they are captivated by the woman's words. The only exception is a scraggly and disheveled halfling monk whose puffy black eye gives him away as a brawler and a troublemaker. He enthusiastically pushes forward and tries to engage, but one of his friends swiftly jabs him in the back with an elbow, making the poor fellow pause to catch his breath.
"Looks like we got ourselves a student of warfare."
Indarah: The woman gives you a suspicious look and raises an eyebrow. "Were your words meant to recognize my achievements... or to start a fight the way Mendevian crusaders usually do?"
This woman has decided that the middle of a city literally being destroyed by demons is the best place to demean the efforts of the very crusaders who are literally shedding blood to protect it. If we're rude to her here, when we meet her again in act 5, the game is going to pretend that she's not only a genius tactician, but also cunning and wily.
Kenabres Crusader: One of the crusaders angrily curls his fists tightly and retorts with a burst of passion, "If those Jists of yours — or whatever — had come for us, we'd have their guts for garters! You think we've never fought a mighty adversary before?" The soldier's stern facade cannot fully conceal his relish — he clearly plans to enjoy this confrontation. The crusaders around him look upon their exotic opponent with a mixture of irritation and piqued interest.
This woman is about to get a beating so severe she won't be able to eat solid food for a very long time.
Indarah: The woman chuckles before cutting off her interlocutor. "I would love to see you storm a sixty-foot tall walking castle shaped like a gigantic elephant that carries siege fortifications on its back. And I'll have you know these fortifications were defended by Jistkan priest-craftsmen armed with demon-bound war machines."
Indarah: "They used the enemies you cannot defeat as mindless weapons." The woman gives the people around her a triumphant look and adjusts her clothes with pointed nonchalance. Her voice takes on a lecturer's tone: "You should not argue with someone who happens to be the most authoritative researcher on the history of warfare three thousand years before the foundation of Absalom."
Indarah: The woman looks at you and flashes an amused smile. "The lecture is over. Do my esteemed listeners have any questions?"
"Who are you?"
Indarah: "I am Indarah, a warrior, magus, and scholar of classical warfare from Garund!" The woman peers at you apprehensively, then sighs. "I admit that I am mildly offended by the fact that my name is entirely unfamiliar to you but I'm willing to accept that this is due to Avistan's isolation from the sophisticated culture of the world at large."
"You've come a long way to be here."
Indarah: "I like to think of myself as an inhabitant of Golarion and I don't narrowly identify with any country in particular."
"I didn't ask where you came from, I commented on you being a long way from home." You roll your eyes.
"Why did you come here?"
Indarah: "To witness a legendary war. The confrontation between denizens of a plane famous for its love of violence and the crusaders from every continent, united by the common goal of defending their home! An epic struggle of colossal proportions... that hasn't been particularly epic so far — truth be told."
Pink Eye: The monk with a black eye grins and mutters under his breath, "Maybe she just can't see it from here? The view will get way more epic if she stops hiding among us and takes a walk outside."
Indarah: The woman smirks contemptuously. She does not deem the monk's words worthy of comment.
Indarah is a god damned idiot and I hope you can see why I'm saying this. She's the epitome of high-int, low-wis. Book smart, but too dumb to realize that maybe she shouldn't be picking a fight with a bunch of crusaders in the middle of Kenabres as it's literally falling apart.
"I disagree. The crusaders are doing a commendable job at resisting the demons."
Indarah: "Oh yes — and the situation we have found ourselves in can attest to that! But then again, demons are no better — their preferred strategy also involves brute strength, mindless assault, and unfounded confidence in their superiority."
"Then why don't you join the crusaders and show them how fighting should be done?"
Indarah: "Hmm... No. I am a historian, an analyst, a theorist. Do you know what these three words have in common? They describe a mortal woman who does not participate in the conflict upon which her thesis will be founded. But then again, I will hardly be able to describe this mess as anything other than 'a feeble likeness of the Last War of Jistka.'"
Pink Eye: The monk with a damaged eye grins slyly and comments: "The more dangerous the upcoming scuffle is, the more motivated we are to find clever and pretty words to justify not actually doing the fighting."
"What is this last war you keep mentioning?"
Indarah: "The Last War of Jistka, of course. A large-scale conflict that took place three thousand years before the foundation of Absalom. It was a war against the Osirion Pharaoh of Forgotten Plagues, the war that ended the legendary Jistka Imperium. An epic struggle that became the most vibrant page in military history. Alas, all conflicts that followed it were but a pale shadow — including the one I am witnessing here."
"Why do you find the Last War of Jistka so inspiring?"
Indarah: "Imagine legions of golems imbued with extraplanar spirits marching into battle. Imagine flying cities that swoop out of the clouds, like terrifying monstrous birds of prey, to drop forces on top of enemy castles. Picture gigantic mechanisms powered by captive — and very angry — demons and devils. Imagine standing in the warpath of walking citadels or having to cover your ears to block out the sound of cannons loaded with shrieking elementals."
Indarah: "Finally, imagine the ultimate weapon that defeated the Jistka – the deadly Night Plague. This affliction was an attack dog, a trained epidemic, a tamed pestilence — striking only those who its master wanted to kill. Imagine all these terrors and understand that no flight of fancy can even come close to the horror of the nightmares that they made real."
She's like a less charismatic version of Liara T'soni. Except instead of an extinct race of super aliens from 50,000 years ago, it's a bunch of Not-Egyptians from 3,000 years ago. The Protheans weren't all noble warriors with a scholar's learning, and I can guarantee the average Jistkans weren't the masters of war she's making them out to be. We'll never know, mercifully.
The alternative reading, one supported by text we'll see in a minute, is that she's the epitome of Redditor. She has an advanced form of brain poisoning that makes her believe that she permanently lives in high school debate club.
"How do you know so much about Jistka's last war?"
Indarah: "I can say without false modesty that there is no more authoritative researcher on Golarion when it comes to the history of warfare three thousand years before the foundation of Absalom. I've dedicated my whole life to this subject, I've personally visited old battlefields, and studied the most mysterious and forbidden archives containing chronicles of ancient wars — sometimes risking my life in the process."
Indarah: "I saw a fallen sky city of the Shory empire with my own eyes. I ripped out the control crystal from an Exterminator-class combat golem that guarded a Jistka laboratory with my own hands. These fingers held the glass flask that the servants of Pharaoh of Forgotten Plagues used to create the first generation of pestilence that devastated the Jistka Imperium. How do I know so much? I saw and touched everything I am telling you about."
I hate this next option, but because this is backer-created drivel, we have to play along or we have to blow her off. And this at least makes her consider she's a friggin' idiot. So, time for Lisbeth to contract temporary Redditor Brain Poisoning.
"You're wrong to treat the crusaders with such disdain. Allow me to explain."
Indarah: "A debate? Oh, I will be happy to prove that the current conflict can't hold a candle to the Last War of Jistka!"
Indarah: "Very well. The Last War of Jistka was waged using a significantly greater number of troops, both sides actively relied on reinforcements from allied planes, and their strategic planning was perfected through no fewer than seven rounds of intensive design. None of the above applies to this war of yours."
Indarah: "Compared to the Jistka we are but stone club-wielding kobolds. I would like to conclude my thesis with a few words of wise counsel from Dagun, an advisor to the Pharaoh of Forgotten Plagues. I doubt you will comprehend the true genius of his statement, but here it is nevertheless: 'a gadfly sees the ox, the ox pays no heed to the gadfly, but crimson fever takes them both.'"
[Diplomacy 15] "The events of the past are shrouded in legend, but the fate of the world is being decided here and now. That is what you fail to grasp."
We just rolled a 28 on a DC 15. God I love bonuses.
Indarah: [Succeeded at a Diplomacy check] The earnestness on the faces of those around you has taken away Indarah's panache, encouraging her to backtrack and stumble over words. "Of course, I am not trying to diminish the importance of current events. What I am trying to say is that from the standpoint of history, and particularly the history of warfare..." She falls silent, fixedly staring at the unfriendly eyes of her audience. "...The true importance of these developments won't become obvious until later."
Gained 13 Experience
Indarah: Indarah offers a pretentious dismissal. "As a scholar, I cannot deny that there is a certain truth beneath your skeptical statements. History is a complex discipline rooted in fact and an evidentiary base that grows ever more meager the farther the described period is from the present moment."
Indarah: "Of course, if I were to argue in bad faith — the way crusaders embellish their tales of slaying a single brimorak by adding a dozen balors, for example — I could win this debate. But I am above such things, and therefore I'm forced to admit that your skepticism is not entirely without merit."
"Have you changed your mind about joining the crusaders?"
Indarah: "I don't see the point. You crusaders appear to be quite confident in your skills. If nothing else, you've presented your arguments to me with extreme confidence."
Indarah: Indarah unbuckles her sword belt and hands you the weapon. "This is a worthy blade. It will be of use not only for the strong, but also for the wise."
Item Received: Claw of Jistka
Indarah: "And this is where I bid you farewell. Before the end of the day I was planning to observe how winged demons use pack tactics to drive their prey like herds of livestock. It is about time I got back to my research." The hint of a smile graces Indarah's lips when she sees disappointment in the eyes of many crusaders around her. "Stay safe."
That was tedious. And now we will never have to engage in "friendly debate" again. Normally I try to keep my updates around 25,000 characters in length. The last one was 40,000. After a single conversation, we're 13,000 deep. 
Next up is Seelah. Buckle in, this is gonna be another long one.
Seelah smiles at you warmly. "Hey there! During that march through the dungeon, we never got the chance to exchange a proper greeting. It's high time I shake your hand!"
Seelah is really easy to like. She may disagree with Lisbeth's mercenary leanings, but it's hard to argue with her results.
"I'd like to know more about you."
"Of course. Ask anything, I'll answer honestly."
"Tell me about yourself. Where are you from?"
"I'm a little bit from Geb, a little bit from Katapesh, but mostly from the knights of Iomedae. I was accepted and began my training at fourteen. I belong to their ranks more than I belong to any other place."
"You've come to Mendev by a long road, haven't you?"
"A very long one!" Seelah looks at you cheerfully. "A traveler is expected to have amusing stories. Unfortunately, I have only three tales of any interest, and I'd like to save them for our next feast. Otherwise I won't have anything to show for myself when it's time to start bragging! And that just won't do. Especially since I'll win the night with my cautionary tale of a battle with chupacabras."
If we had enough knowledge (world) we would know what chupacabras are, but alas we have to ask.
"You can't tempt me with a story about fighting chupacabras and then not follow through! What are chupacabras, by the way?"
"Incredibly repulsive magical beasts, fast and dangerous. They can... Well, it looks like someone's fooled me into starting the tale. I guess now I'll have to tell the whole story!"
"Picture a small town in Qadira, and down in the dungeon there's two murderers waiting to be executed. The gallows are already built for them. The rope's been bought. But sometimes life takes a surprising turn. Suddenly, a paladin of Iomedae appears in the doorway, and offers the murderers a deal: if they go with her to fight some monsters, they'll live. If they survive, that is."
"There's a big difference between imminent death and probable death with a glimmer of hope, wouldn't you say? So here we are traveling through the desert — me and my friend, a priestess of Sarenrae, along with the little ratfolk fellow who'd asked for our help, and the two cutthroats. We get to the ratfolk village and see their bodies lying around, all drained dry. We figured we'd have to fight vampires. That's how the little ratfolk described the monsters who attacked their village. That's why we went in all brazen-like. The sun was high, and the vampires couldn't attack until dusk."
"But we never got a chance to look around. Black shadows, quick as the wind, attacked us from all sides. Not vampires, but chupacabras. One of the lads we pulled from the gallows got killed right away. The second one ran for his life. That left me, the ratfolk, and Kyra — that was the name of the priestess — and we all steeled ourselves for the fight of our lives."
"And just when we thought the end had come, with the chupacabras surrounding me like a pack of dogs around a bear, our ratfolk friend wounded and down, and the teeth of the quickest of those blasted monsters clenched on Kyra's shoulder — right then, when all hope was lost, the other lad from the gallows suddenly comes running back. He kills the beast attacking Kyra. I'm sure you know what a turning point in a fight looks like. Well this was it. A moment before, we were lost, and a moment later, we had it back under control. The chupacabras drop dead, one by one. The little ratfolk is reunited with his family, who were hiding in the basement. The priestess and I close the eyes of that boy from the gallows who saved us. It was a shame he didn't survive the fight. May the gods keep his soul in its journey through the afterlife."
"That's a good story. He could have died in disgrace on the gallows, but instead he died a hero."
"And I'd fancy the stunt earned him some points at his final judgment. It's smart to remember our journey doesn't end in death."
"Had it not been for that mercy, Milos — that was his name — would be hanging from a noose, and me, Kyra, and all the ratfolk would be dead in that village. Someone told me that a kind deed done by an unkind person is a hundred times more precious. By the same token, an evil done by a noble soul is a hundred times more horrifying. That's what I really wanted to say. The chupacabras were just a good starting point.",
"What made you become a paladin of Iomedae?"
"Seelah's gaze sharpens momentarily. Then she sighs. "That's a serious question and a good one. You should ask it of your companions. But it's a long story. To start with, twelve years ago I was nothing like the person I am now. I roamed the streets of Solku with the other homeless orphans. I stole, I fought, I was a hired sword for a bit. Not the proper origin for a paladin, is it?"
"Back then, Solku was a city of orphans, widows, and widowers. Gnolls decimated the city regularly. My parents were among their victims. People there heard about new deaths before they'd finished mourning their previous losses. One day a group of knights of Iomedae brought a glimmer of hope to the city. But while others saw them as saviors and protectors, I was busy pricing up their noble horses and their gleaming mithral armor, wondering just how much one of their pretty swords would fetch, ha ha!"
"A thief lives one day at a time, that's what they say. I was the type that never thought past the next job. Anyhow, I was able to sneak into the knights' camp and steal one of their mithral helms." Seelah pauses, her voice sad and measured. "And I was right there when a gnoll attacked the helm's owner — Acemi was her name — and dealt a blow to her unprotected head. A gnoll like all those others she'd fearlessly driven from the gates of Solku. That one blow was fatal, but who was really to blame for her death — the gnoll attacker or the young thief named Seelah?"
(Chaotic) "Life is cruel and full of chaos. Sometimes survival just comes down to luck."
"So that's how you see it." Seelah looks at you with curiosity but no hostility. "I can't accept that point of view. If the story of my youth taught me anything, it's that we're all accountable for our actions. It's too easy to wave off responsibility if you use 'the cruelty of life' as an excuse."
"But you were asking what brought me into the ranks of Iomedae's warriors. We all choose the paladin's path for our own reasons. Some are guided by nobility of spirit, some by a desire to fight injustice. I became who I am through penance and a debt unpaid. The day Acemi died protecting my city, I wanted to kill myself for the terrible guilt I felt. But then I realized it wouldn't make the world any better. And I decided that instead I'd try to take her place. I'd become who she had been, and protect the innocents that she would no longer be able to protect."
"What are the principles that paladins of Iomedae follow?"
Seelah smiles. "I'll tell you. I like to recite our code. It feels like I've said it a thousand times, but it never gets old. There is strength in these words…" After a pause she begins, her voice slow and meditative, "I will learn the weight of my sword. Without my heart to guide it, it is worthless. My strength is not in my sword, but in my heart. If I lose my sword, I have lost a tool. If I betray my heart, I have died."
"I will have faith in the Inheritor. I will channel her strength through my body. I will shine in her legion, and I will not tarnish her glory through base actions. I am the first into battle, and the last to leave it. I will not be taken prisoner by my free will. I will not surrender those under my command. I will never abandon a companion, though I will honor sacrifice freely given."
"I will guard the honor of my fellows, both thought and deed, and I will have faith in them. When in doubt, I may force my enemies to surrender, but I am responsible for their lives. I will never refuse a challenge from an equal. I will give honor to worthy enemies, and contempt to the rest. I will suffer death before dishonor. I will be temperate in my actions and moderate in my behavior. I will strive to emulate Iomedae's perfection."
"Thank you, I've learned everything I wanted to know."
"Irabeth said your friend Jannah Aldori is missing. Do you know where we should look for her?"
"Irabeth is worried about her fighters. I understand that. I wanted to look for Jannah myself, so I didn't distract you. But since you're in this too, I could use some help."
"Jannah and I met in Kenabres a few days ago and just hit it off. We went drinking together. We went to that unforgettable celebration together too, but we got separated in the crowd. So we should start looking from the main square — that's where I last saw her." Seelah frowns. "Jannah's a good fighter, even if she is green. She couldn't have become an Aldori otherwise. I hope that means she's all right."
"What do you think of what's going on in Kenabres?"
"It's complete chaos. It's lucky we're here to handle it, right?" Seelah smiles brightly. Then she gives you a worried look. "Does the way I talk bother you? I know I can seem... blasé. Many good people, and our protector Terendelev, died here in Kenabres. A paladin of Iomedae is expected to be properly respectful and solemn."
(Chaotic) "If we want to win, we can't be mourning our deceased day and night. Plus, joy heals the soul!"
"It's nice when you and your commander think alike." Seelah smiles softly.
"Is fighting demons all you want? Or are you looking for something more?"
"How about covering myself in glory and becoming the hero of a hundred ballads? Or at least a dozen — if they're lively ones." Seelah's eyes shine cheerfully. "Anyway, to be more serious... The area around the Worldwound is the best place for a paladin who wishes to defend the weak and serve good. Being part of the crusade is reward enough for me. But there's something that worries me."
"I don't want to sound like I'm criticizing my brothers in arms. But the Eagle Watch and the other orders are focused on just one aim — the war against the Worldwound. That's why they can sometimes overlook the smaller things — ordinary misfortunes, you know."
"I always liked being a wandering knight because any moment I could get up and go help a poor ratfolk whose family had been kidnapped. Or an old woman whose favorite dog had gone missing. So here's my answer — I don't have some big, important goal, but I'll be happy to help those who need it — a little bit here and there."
"Thank you for speaking with me. Until next time!"
Oh boy. Hilor. This is the guy who will sell us mercenary contracts, as well as will let us respec ourselves and our companions. Like everyone else, he also has a Tragic Backstory and I couldn't possibly care less. It's about how his daughter died to a demon and he swore revenge. I'm skipping the conversation with him because I don't care and I don't imagine any of you do either.
Mercenaries have a scaling cost based on level. I have very unashamedly used Toybox to set the multiplier on mercenary contracts to 0.5 because I'm not spending 8,000 gold to buy two new party members at level 3. 4,000 stings enough as it is! There are some guides out there that suggest you avoid leveling up in the prologue so you can get cheaper mercs as soon as you get to the Defender's Heart.
If I weren't doing this LP, I would set the multiplier to 0.01 and leave it there permanently.
Past the not-a-vampire bartender we find the backroom. There's two NPCs back here.
Jernaugh has a pretty memorable quest line, and I like him.
"What are you doing?"
Jernaugh: "I only took my holy orders recently, so my god has only bestowed a little of his power upon me as yet. I'm sorry to say that the number of wounded fighters in this tavern is far beyond my power to heal. But there's a reason people say: 'Have faith in the gods, but look to yourself first!' I may not be able to help the wounded with magic, but I can at least cut up bandages."
"Are you from around here?"
Jernaugh: "No. I was just passing through Kenabres. I was sailing down that old man of ours, the great Sellen River, to a village by the name of Chilly Creek. I happened to land in the city on the eve of the festival, and I'm ashamed to say I decided to stay for a day to enjoy myself. But I ended up staying in the city longer than I'd bargained for."
"Chilly Creek? Where is that?"
Jernaugh: "It's a small fishing village. It's not even marked on some maps. But people do live there. What they don't have is a priest — they have no one to heal their wounds, no one to offer prayers for a good catch, no one to give their dead a dignified burial. And the Worldwound is a stone's throw away... So, I'll be setting sail for Chilly Creek, to serve my god and my people."
"Aren't you - a young and inexperienced cleric - afraid to go to the border of the Worldwound?"
Jernaugh: "I won't lie — I am afraid, but what can I do? Those villagers are simple people. Every day of their short lives is spent doing hard, honest work. That's exactly the kind of life I want — something simple but meaningful. If I had centuries ahead of me, like elves do, I might have spared some fifty years or so to travel around the world," the young man says with a smile.
"I could use the help of a cleric."
Jernaugh: Jernaugh makes a helpless gesture. "Erastil knows I'd be glad to help you, but it's no use: my spells are depleted and I have no training in potions or scrolls. See this robe I'm cutting up for bandages? It's the second to last one!"
Jernaugh starts a quest we can't complete until act 2. So we'll be back to him eventually.
Sigh. Forn Autumn Haze is another backer quest.
Forn Autumn Haze: A tall, fragile-looking elf sits in front of you, eyes closed. He is pale as a ghost, his arm wrapped in a blood-stained bandage. You spot other bandages on his body under his clothes. But even in such a miserable state, he manages to keep calm.
Forn Autumn Haze: Raising his eyes to meet yours, he says faintly, "I am Forn Autumn Haze. At your service." His pale lips are reddened by blood, but you see no signs of pain or fear in his gray eyes.
"Do you need help?"
Forn Autumn Haze: After giving you a cold, intense look, he shakes his head. "Do not trouble yourself on my behalf. A local healer tended to me. Besides, I come from a resilient, hardy people. My body will endure both the wounds and the poison delivered through them."
"Who wounded you?"
Forn Autumn Haze: "A sinner and accomplice to demons. The quarry I am hunting in this inhospitable place."
"I am Lisbeth. You can trust me. I might be able to help you."
Forn Autumn Haze: After a brief pause, Forn says, "It would be impolite to refuse such a direct and friendly offer."
"Who is your quarry here in Mendev?"
Forn Autumn Haze: "I was hunting a fugitive — a Deskarite by the name of Kaylessa. It pains me to admit that there are heinous malefactors such as her among my noble kind."
Forn Autumn Haze: "I managed to catch up to her in Kenabres, and I wounded her. Then demons appeared and the city was engulfed in flames. I was injured in the battle that ensued and couldn't free her soul from its service to her dark masters." He expresses no anger or hatred as he speaks, only compassionate sorrow.
"I am sorry for your misfortune. I hope things will turn out differently next time."
Forn Autumn Haze: He purses his lips. "There is no need for pity. Our ancient kind is blessed with great longevity. We gain a deeper understanding of the world than other races, and we learn our lessons better than anyone. That goes for learning from our mistakes as well. I survived, which means I will be more prepared when next we meet."
"I wish to aid you in your hunt."
Forn Autumn Haze: Forn covers his eyes wearily. "I thank you, but this is my mission, and I'm used to facing all manner of terrors on my own. I do appreciate your willingness to help. If you happen to meet Kaylessa — take caution. She has turned many innocent souls to the path of evil, and darkness has rewarded her with many gifts. Her appearance alone will tell you that — it is warped. The agate skin, the malicious stare of her blood-red eyes, the bestial teeth... She's more monster than elf at this point."
"What does this Kaylessa look like again?"
Wrath of the Righteous is the most hard line, asshole DM possible. Almost any other DM in existence would go "you got 1 off on your roll, so you get a little insight" but nope. Not here.
Forn Autumn Haze: "Her skin is dark, her hair preternaturally white. Her red eyes can see perfectly in the dark, which, to my dismay, I've come to know from experience. But bright light causes her kind pain — I used an alchemical powder that explodes in a dazzling flash, and she cried out as if I had stabbed her."
It's clear that this woman is a faithful servant of darkness — the marks that Kaylessa's masters have left on her appearance say as much.
Kaylessa is obviously a drow. If we had succeeded, Forn would be like "no I don't think so." But 
Jernaugh can't even leave Kenabres until we liberate it, so there's no rush here.
Another reason to visit the market square.
Down the stairs near Forn, we find the dungeon.
Marching forward turns the camera and we see this scene.
Delvan: "Iomedae protect us!"
"Ha ha ha, got you again! How many times is that today?"
Delvan: "Take your jokes and shove 'em, tiefling!"
"Woah, easy there, chief! Don't hit me."
Delvan: "Quit bothering the decent people in here, Woljif, or I'll knock your teeth out."
"What's it to you, Delvan Dum-Dum? You were told to guard me, and I'm not stoppin' you, but no one told me I had to shut my trap!"
Woljif is a new companion. And he would be a mainstay of the party if Lisbeth weren't the main character. He's an arcane trickster, a hybrid of rogue and wizard, and he is quite powerful. Sadly, we're a ninja, so we really don't need another rogue in the party, and we're gonna be getting a bunch of spellcasters this act. So poor Woljif is gonna be the first second benchwarmer. Unlike Camellia, though, I actually like him.
There's also an apparently popular mod to add a romance for Woljif. But between his voice, his mannerisms, and the way he speaks, he's definitely meant to be a teenager. So 
"Who are you?"
"Woljif. Woljif Jefto. I deal in useful things. I can get you whatever you want, anything, but there's just one problem..." The tiefling rattles his chains and gives you a meaningful look.
"Your shadow... What was that?"
The tiefling grins and laughs. "Get me out of here and I'll tell you. And don't worry, it's not contagious."
"Why are you in chains?"
"Does it really matter? Don't get hung up on the past, chief, don't look to the future — live in the here and now!"
Delvan: "He was caught thieving."
"Alright, what do you want from me?"
"I'll lay it out for you: simple job, thirty minutes tops, we go someplace, talk to someone, and in return, whatever you want, I'll get it for you! Some extra rations? No problem! Armor, weapons, scrolls, you name it — it's as good as yours. If you need my help with something, whistle and I'll be there. I'm handy enough with knives too, and even my magic know-how isn't too shabby!"
Delvan: "Ha ha, what a load of guff! If you were good at magic, you wouldn't be stuck here now, would you?"
"Don't you listen to him, chief, he'd find fault with the queen herself. I'll be useful to have in battle and I'll sell whatever you want at a reasonable price. It's your lucky day, you won't meet another gem like me in Kenabres!"
"I can't help you while you're chained up here. How can I free you?"
"That's easy. You know Irabeth? Feisty-looking gal, always wears armor? You can't miss her, she's the meanest fighter in the whole city. When you see her, put in a good word for me, will ya? Tell her there's this guy, Woljif, locked up for no good reason in the Defender's Heart — well, for the follies of his youth — and he really wants to get out on bail so he can keep up his good behavior and make a contribution to society. Got that? Will you do it?"
"I need to talk to her anyway, so I'll put in a good word for you."
Woljif grins. "I knew I could count on you! Knew it the moment I laid eyes on you."
I'm splitting the update here because it's approaching 50,000 characters and we are nowhere near done yet. See you all in a few~!