Broomi Jean-Bromide, a characteristically poor nun

The two made it quickly from the St. Vendigeld estate down to the church... the first stop on church street, when approaching from the dwelling direction of as wealthy a patron as Guyld St. Vendigeld III. No sermon was being held, which meant that the church was probably mostly empty, unless someone was cleaning. As it so happened, Guyld III spotted the church's confessor, Broomi Jean-Bromide, sweeping up the steps out front with a long-handled broom. The girl was short, boyish, with bristling brown hair in a short bob, poking out from her black habit here and there. Her freckled face was plucky and smiling at the best of times, tough and challenging at the worst, but the truth wasn't hard to discern: Broomi and her small family were dirt poor, ever since Broomi's deadbeat dad had run off.

What more perfect recipient of charity than a poor nun, who works so hard for the church and receives so little in the way of compensation? A better reaction might have been to perhaps evaluate why poor servants of the church seemed to lose more in donations than they took in wages, but unfortunately, Guyld's mind was not wired that way for the moment. "Miss Jean-Bromide, dear!" Guyld began with unusual empathy in her voice... ordinarily, she ignored rascals outright and poor people all the more, so this was probably the first time she'd addressed Broomi for any reason, outside of confessions in the church.

"Mrs. Saint-V?" Broomi questioned, stopping her sweeping, lest she cover the woman's finery in dust. The leather pack on her back, as well as the one on her therapist's back, immediately raised questions. She peaked one eyebrow suspiciously. "What in Geod's name...? Don't tell me you're stuffing donations in that thing? Well, I already donated after the sermon, so try someone else! Do I look like I'm loaded?" She decidedly did not.

"Decidedly not!" Guyld chuckled brazenly. "But we can fix that! I'm here on a charity drive-"

"Like I said, I'm not giving to any charity of yours! If anything, I'm the charity case!"

"Exactly!" the woman grinned, reaching into her pack. "And I want to make sure that you and your whole family are well accounted for! Please, accept this. The perfect, fitting gift for you," she continued, rifling through her pack until she came up with just the right item: a peacock-feather tipped wand, never intended for use by maids... it looked more like some sort of erotic tickling implement. Lenore's eyes widened when she saw it. "I bought this from a merchant once on the cheap, but of course, cleaning is so far outside the realm of my ordinary duties! Still, he said it's the perfect bedroom accompaniment! And I know you love to sweep and dust, so you're sure to get some use of it!"

Broomi had dollar signs (or rather, the signs of the imperial currency) in her eyes for just a moment, before becoming indignant at the idea that she "loved to sweep." "Uuuuh, no! I don't love sweeping, who the heck loves that? I'm just the only church person stupid enough to stay late and do it, apparently," she joked, rolling her eyes. "But thanks for the neat bedroom tickler."

Guyld III, for the first time in the past hour, found herself troubled. She did not feel Geod's love (or, more accurately, didn't feel Broomi's love). "Y-You do not seem as pleased as I must admit I hoped you would be," she laughed, smiling with some effort. "Take that for yourself, though! Perhaps there is some more fitting gift I can give your family?"

To Broomi, the noble woman seemed to be acting so different, it was as though she'd been replaced by one of the demon lord's doppelgangers. Maybe she had? At any rate... the poor confessor wasn't going to pass up the chance to poke fun at the biggest snob in the town of Merridan, just because she was acting like slightly less of a bitch than usual.