When you get close, and begin to examine the nobleman more closely, you learn that he really was not lying when he said that he had poured everything he had into his infernal quest. The rings on his fingers are cheap, fake knock-offs of once glorious family signets, and while his clothes may be fine they have also been worn thread-bare, and small holes have started to tear in the silks. Fallen so far...<br/><br/>But the sword, at least, he had not gotten around to pawning or debasing. Perhaps he actually maintained some sentiment for the blade, or perhaps he just felt that it would behoove him to keep something around that actually provided proof of his station. Whatever the reason, more's the better for you... the blade is flawlessly crafted, and the pommel bears an ornate golden filigree that seems to be a representation of a swirling storm-cloud from above, with the rapier's blade as its eye.<br/><br/>Once you have finished your search, the thief-turned-guardswoman motions for you to follow her... and once you are safely through the door, she slashes the heavy rope by the door, sending a trap that you had not seen- a heavy basin of oil, aimed towards the fireplace- crashing to the ground before urging you out the door and into the night.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>The moon is almost about to set by the time the two of you arrive back at the church, and your long night is starting to wear on you... but with the fall of the nobleman and the capture of the goblin priestess, you get the feeling that this town's goblin problems should decrease dramatically.<br/><br/>"Ugh... What a night." Sharille looks over at you and smiles, the fatigue on her face still a welcome change from the worry and stress of the prior two days. "I don't ever want to see a pumpkin again..."