Guyld III, a no-nonsense patron of the church who is nonetheless in for some nonsense

"Rubbish. Absolute rubbish!"

The noble lady, Guyld St. Vendigeld III, the third of her name, spat from the parlor (not the first floor parlor, the second floor one, of course) onto the busy morning streets of the town of Merridan. Nothing about the lady's life was rubbish; she had outstanding wealth, looks that had held up even as she began to round the corner towards forty, a loving and hard-working husband (even if his work did tend to keep him out of town), and a beautiful daughter, Guyld IV. In this podunk town, her riches were so immense that she was viewed not just as a wealthy patron of the church, but as a royal, the kind of presence that commoners had no business approaching. This was how she viewed herself as well; further, she imparted the same views upon her daughter.

What, in her life, could be said to be rubbish?

Well, as of late, the people of Merridan, led by a ridiculous initiative from the church and the knight corp, had begun to hold all kinds of events, parades, and, dare she acknowledge it... orgies. She would never have imagined these kinds of lewd behaviors would become trendy in thr kingdom, let alone in her home city. She was the third generation of a long line, beginning with the venerable Saint Vendigeld- a saint! How could she be expected to live in such ridiculous times as these, where revelry spilled onto the streets and the common laborer danced during the daylight?!

As one of few unhappy citizens in the city, the wealthy woman spread out upon her long, cream-colored sofa, so soft it was similar to cream itself. Surrounded by opulence and even dressed in it, she was still upset about her new lot in life. Her elegant white dress made her look like she was trying to be the head priestess herself, with its lengthy white hem, slit up the sides to show black hose on each leg, and a slightly low cut bust-line, suspended at the side of each shoulder to show the regal jut of her collar. Each of her fingers wore dazzling rings with green gemstones and gold bands; a choker at her neck held similar adornment. Even the braid-holder she wore in her hair was encrusted. Her earrings? Just the same.

The woman looked like a portrait of art herself as she reclined and languished. In her motherly years, she was not the slender beauty she had once been; in her younger days, she had often been compared to an elf or some kind of fey-folk. Her long, braided, brilliantly green hair, her striking, deep green eyes, and her witty smile were now ever so slightly offset by the need to wear excessive makeup to hide her frown lines and the bags beneath her eyes. At a glance, her body hadn't aged a day except to grow larger breasts. In reality... she was a habitual corset-wearer. Every day, she scolded her daughter, asking when Guyld IV was going to slender up to catch the eyes of rich young men... in truth, she'd been using a girdle to get there ever since her younger days.

Still... Quite a beauty, laying out on her sofa and trying not to moan about the peaceful town, her vast riches, her lovely daughter, the cool breeze blowing though from outside her three story mansion, and the warm summer sunlight that her diety, Geod, had blessed her with.

"This folly of the church is maddening," the noble woman spoke to the room's other occupant, as she ran the stocking-clad sole of one foot against the arm of her chair. Going without shoes was undignified for a woman such as herself, as was rubbing one's feet on the furniture, but she persisted regardless. After all, the other person was someone she trusted to keep their mouth shut. "I'm only aggravated because they're all acting without reason. Geod blesses those who use their brains," she complained. In truth... she was just mad commoners were so happy now, without needing her money or patronage to get there.

Although her husband was the bread-winner, she had done plenty of wheeling and dealing in the back rooms of the church to become independently wealthy herself. It could be said she her whole life had been devoted to the pursuit of wealth. She was, pardon the expression, green with envy at the easy road now presented to the townspeople...

"I got where I am using my guile, you know? I've oft suspected the first Vendigeld took that saintly name, Guyld, to emphasize the value of that trait! People make their own fortunes! Everyone's just... just pissing everything away! Years of church tradition!" she complained, imagining the sort of thoughtlessness it took to lead the church to value people's momentary pleasures instead of the long-term health of their souls. "I've half a mind to pull my donations, board up the mansion, and shutter myself until it passes."

Finally, Guyld III became fed up with the silence of her confidant. She loved to hear herself talk, but she was in quite a mood today. "And what of you?! Aren't you going to offer me some advice? Everyone else does!"