It takes Angleique hours, but she is in a good place for it. Jak pointedly ignores her as she plies the other paladins with questions and drinks. After much looking, around midnight she has her answer.
The two paladins who were guarding the prisoners were normally guards at the Keep. Both were allies of Parell but not personal friends. Fittingly, they were a set of twins, Rasmin and Harldred, and at this time of night were probably at their parents home asleep.
It is a melancholy place. It was a tense exchange with the Fox, but eventually he consents and Angelique finds herself in a small and musty basement near the docks. At least she thinks she is near the docks, the carriage that brought her went in circles for quite awhile. But the damp feel and the scent of fish was present.
The basement is well-furnished with a bed, drawers filled with women's clothes, a few bits of art on the wall and a full set of make-ups and mirror. It has the look of a place untouched for months. Spiderwebs fill the corners and a fine layer of dust covers everything.
Angelique spends a great deal of time looking at the basement. She notices the brands of clothing and make-up, the people in the pictures, even the names of the artists that she enjoys. Angelique wants to build up a picture as to who this women was, what she prioritised in her life, and from there, narrow down a list of people that might have interacted with her.
Angelique searches the room, having little else to do. The woman appears to have been quiet, but used to finer things. Probably provided by the Fox, with his ill-gotten gains. There are no signs of a lover or other until she notices all the artwork is made by the same man. Mathu Riem, a rather talented painter.
She finds a empty package with his address on it, and hand signed by the artist.
Angelique sleeps in, the downside of resting in a basement with no windows. Outside the day is bright and clear, with only a few light clouds high in the blue sky. Angelique finds the home of the artist rather easily, in a small art district in the city. It is an eclectic place with crazily painted buildings, sculptures one very corner and music pouring from all the windows.
She knocks on the door of a bright green building with blue trim. After a moment she hears a voice saying. "In a moment."
It takes more then a 'moment' but soon comes a serious looking young man, dressed in paint-stained clothes. His bright brown beard is a tuft and his eyes a light green.
'Yes?" He says, his accent foreign, probably from Absalom.
"My name is Angelique, and hopefully I was looking for the excellent painter that my friends have been talking so much about - so I thought I would come around and see what all the fuss was about. One of my friends has a houseful of your artwork you know - you must be truly impressive."
The man smiles but glances back inside. 'I do appreciate a good review and am always looking for new business, but right now is not a good time." From inside a sultry female voice floats out, 'Oh, Mathu come back to bed..."
The man winces but gamely goes on, 'And who was the friend, who displayed my works?'
Angelique smiles in an understanding way, before attempting to answer the mans question. "Ah, that would be Shirel, who tended to enjoy your work, as I said, she spoke rather highly of you and when I inquired as to what made you particularly wonderful- she gave me this address."
At the mention of her name his face goes flat, wary. 'Who...who sent you here? I don't want to get mixed up in this." he moves toward the door as if to close it and forget he ever saw Angelique. The little painter is surprisingly quick.
Turning he shouts into the house, "Odell, get out of here, right now!" There is an answering squawk of protest then silence.
Angelique holds her hands, palms up and unthreatening. "Whoa, calm down. I don't know who you think I am, but whatever you think I am - I'm fairly certain that I'm not. I'm an individual, I'm certainly not worth ruining your morning over."
The man's eyes narrow, "Shirel is dead. I don't want to get mixed up in those games again.I don't know who you are, or who you are prentending to be. Quite frankly, I don't wish to know."
His voice drops, "Please, I don't want to get involved. I'm just a humble painter."
Angelique tone hardens slightly, but she keeps her body language non threatening and tries to be as sympathetic as possible. "I understand, I enjoy the arts, singing and dancing. That said, you don't have the luxury of staying out until I can close the book on this. It goes beyond Shirel now, other people are being targeted and killed either under a mistaken attempt to return justice - or are being killed to frame others. Unless I can track down who is responsible, this won't end, and you would forever be the loose end to those involved. I think that you want to put the entire thing behind you, and I can do that, but only if you help me."
There is a long moment and it seems he might slam the door in Angelique's face and bolt it. But then he sighs, and waves Angelique inside. Inside the house is filled with art.
The walls are murals, the windows stained glass, the furniture all carved pieces. Most of it is very nice, some of them quite ugly, all bearing the signs of many artists.
He leads Angelique into a round room, obviously a workshop. Canvases, paintpots and other tools of the trade lay scattered around. He seats Angelique on a cushioned couch in the middle and sits himself on a wooden stool, near an easel.
'So, what do you know?" Then he holds up a stained hand. "May I work as we talk? It calms my nerves."
Angelique nods her head in agreement as the mans request before settling in the middle of the room. "Ideally, since I'm tracking down her killer- unfortunately I'll need to know quite a lot. For instance, why was she exclusively buying your artwork, did she have any other close friends, romantic interests, any interactions with various high society members such as Paladins or Ambassadors?"
Angelique pauses for a moment."By the way, you can paint me if you like while we speak. While it's a wonderful ego boost for me, it also serves a purpose to protect you. That way, if you feel unsafe or insecure with me, it can be some comfort that any investigation would be centred on me should anything unfortunately happen - just an idea, if it helps."
The man is already mixing paints and such as he works. With a nervous smile he says, "It has been awhile since I have painted a woman...go easy on me."
He splashes paint quickly, and Angelique cannot see the canvas from her angle.
After a moment he says, "I know more then I'd like. Before we start....who are you working for? This is important. There are some in the city who would want her killer to be someone it was not."
He coughs, and smudges some paint, with a free hand. 'Would you count Grand Marshals as interactions?"
Angelique shrugs not entirely concerned with how the picture turns out. "I would be an independent investigator hired by the Paladins to investigate Beton's murder. I'm investigating this death on my own but as I'm sure you understand, a fair number of people want me off the case, I'm asking too many questions. So technically, I'm not working for anyone...and yes, I would include Grand Marshals in my interaction list"
The man paints quietly, the sounds of the wet brush on canvas the only sound. Carefully, he mixes colors on a palette, then mixes them on the blank canvas. He hums a bit then says, "Beron did not kill her."
Then, "I know that for a fact. He..knew I was involved with Shirel. He never found her, but I was his closest link. He came here, secretly, of course, and told me he suspected someone of trying to kill her and frame himself. I asked him who but the Grand Marshal said he only had suspicions, but to pass it along to Shirel."
He sighed then, heavily and with real feeling. 'It was too late. That night Shirel vanished, killed. A young flower cut down. I can't think of who would want to kill her. It was probably a blow at the Fox and Beron both."
Angelique isn't particularly thrilled about this turn of events. Not only does it mean that she is going up against effectively a serial killer, but it was probably someone with a high degree of power as well.
"Its a nice theory, fills in some of my blanks, but unfortunately, doesn't get me much closer towards tracking down the real killer. So we have Beron, hunting the Fox but doesn't know where Shirel is. This is the Grand Marshal who dedicated much of his time tracking down the Fox, but now we have someone equally connected, that knows of the relationship between the Fox, Beron, and the location of Shirel - something Beron never found out, as well as the connection Shirel has with the Fox. Then of course, you still have someone skilled enough to actually has to do the deed as well."
Angelique thinks a little more. "Who did Beron suspect? It would have to be someone Shirel knew, or met, or would have confided in, either that, or a friend who she had shared this secret with, a friend that then shared this with someone else,. Furthermore it would have to be someone that gained something from framing Beron for it".
Hmm so:
Someone killed Shirel to frame Beron, and then either they killed Beron, the Fox killed Beron, or a 3rd party killed Beron. Well, at least we narrowed that down a bit.
The painter hums so more, paint flecking here and there from his busy brush. "He didn't say, but who could make a Grand Marshal nervous? He was a mighty man, both in influence and in person. Not many soldiers could have beaten him in battle, even at his age."
Angelique sighs. "So you would be telling me that as far as you know, you would be the only person who both knew of her location and connection to the Fox. Assuming that you didn't do it, it's easy to see why the murderer doesn't see you as a loose end, he can accuse you any time he or she likes. Who did you tell about this girl, or who else was as close to her as you were."
The painter shakes his head, 'It wasn't me. besides, they proved it was a paladin's blade that killed Shirel. At least, that is what I heard from the little that got out. Also, do I seem like someone with the resources to frame a Grand Marshal for a murder?"
The painter does more art then adds, 'Although what kind of paladin cuts a woman like Shirel down, even if she is the sister of the Fox?"
A paladin's blade doesn't exonerate anyone - it just means that someone used a paladin blade, not that they are actually a paladin, which means anyone with a close connection with a paladin could have done it - yourself included. Note that I don't think you did do it, just that someone can easily pin it on you. Still, if you didn't tell anyone - she must have had another close friend. Any idea how she spent her time?"
'She stayed home most of the time. I imagine she worried for her safety. Not that it did her much good in the end." he sighs. 'No, she was not a social person. I only met her because she enjoyed my art, and then wanted to pose for some. After the relationship grew..intimate the Fox paid me a visit."
The painter makes a face and scrubs at the canvas. 'Not a man to cross but I convinced him I was harmless and he let me be. We questioned me after Shirel was killed, but he didn't believe what I said."
'No, I think Shirel was killed as a blow to others, not for anyone she knew."
'Go ask the paladin who investigated her death.' The painter suggests, focusing more on his painting. "Irolan Carmon. Not sure where h would be these days, but he might have some answers?"
"Thanks for the tip" Angelique remarks politely, pausing before standing slowly. "Unless there is anything else, I might take my leave now. It might be wise for you to keep a bit of a low profile for the next few days however just to be on the safe side."
The painter nods, wiping some sweat off his brow. "I will try." he stands up and turns the canvas. 'What do you think?"
The painting is a stunningly good one, showing Angelique reclining on the couch. She is pictured a good bit more seductively then usual, but her face and figure are accurately displayed, even flatteringly so.
The painter grins and sticks the brush behind his ear. 'Do you want it?"
Angelique eyes the painting. "I like it, I'll be sure to donate it to the Calistrian Temple and it can hang somewhere. I'll return to pay for it at a later time though - unfortunately I don't have anywhere to store it at the moment, and carrying it around with me is both awkward and risking it being damage. Its a skilled painting, you have my thanks."
With the matter settled (I can give him a down payment in return for "holding" it for me), Angelique takes her leave, heading into the streets to track down Irolan Carmon.
The man in not unknown but he has some stigma about him. Everyone she asks looks nervous and changes the subject. Few say more then a whispers. Ironically, it is the local whores (even Lastwall has some, although Angelique finds them rather pale and wan) who point her in the directions of the docks. Apparently the man is acting as a fisherman, although why is unclear.
On her way though the bard is stopped. Two men come from behind barrels packed with fish. Each has a club. Behind her, another one blocks the roadway.
"Easy there, lass." The leader says, a red-haired man with neatly trimmed beard. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way."
"Easy way is you leave the city, right now. Hard way, is he hurt you first." He stands at ease, confident in numbers and strength.
Angelique raises her eyebrows."Really? There's like, three of you and one of me. C'mon gentlemen, this is an average day for a Calistrian here, you gotta try harder for that shock and awe or intimidation tactic you have going here. Open your eyes, try thinking this through. I'm not in a disguise here, I'm not sneaking around the shadow's, and - without any sense of false modesty - I'm an intelligent girl. The fact that there are three of you and I'm not backing off should tell you something. It tells me that I don't care. In addition be advised that as a Calistrian, I take irritants like this very seriously. I value revenge, I don't stop at just an eye for an eye, I'll go all the way"
Angelique lets her statement hang in the air for a moment, before making eye contact with the person that seems to be in charge. "Just so there are no misunderstandings, here's what's going to happen. Move against me, and it ends bad, and not for me. Step in against me, and you will need a cleric by the end of the day, provided I allow you one. This isn't a threat, it's a cast iron guarantee. Of course, the person that makes the first step against me, gets it worse, not only does he suffer that carriage load of pain that's coming his way, he earns my undying ire for wasting my time. I couldn't promise he gets to walk away from it. I couldn't promise that I don't make it my mission to find out the top five things he cares about most in the world, and strip all of those from him. Heck, I couldn't even promise that I note his address and visit him every single day and inflict the same amount of pain on him he gets today, for every single day of the rest of his life. Now, do you guys want to take a minute and draw a few straws for this privilege?"
The words obviously unnerve the men, and a few takes a step back, but not the leader. He does take a better stance, and pulls a stout club out.
"I believe it lady. we were told you are no pushover, but I thought I would try. I was told to tell you this though." The man says, waving the club, "If this got ugly, it would only lead to your arrest and expulsion in a much more public way. Way I see it, this is your last chance to get out of here without fanfare."
'As for your threats, we have powerful friends, miss. I think they can keep away one little investigator." he sighs, 'I know this is pointless, but are you going to surrender or not?"
"Ah, but realistically, what can they do to me? It's all self defence - such a wonderful thing...and lets be real here, after I'm finished up with you, do you think you would say anything different? The fact that your friends are sending you after me, indicates they are worried, indicates they are scared, and perhaps are struggling to keep me away. So to answer your question, no, I am not surrendering, I'm waiting to see which of you wants to suffer the most by attacking me first".
"Enough of this. Take her." The leader does carefully stay out range. With just a hint of hesitation, the man behind Angelique rushes forward, club swinging high. The other thug does the same coming at her from the front. The leader hangs back, sap in hand.
With two enemies, Angelique decides to take out the one blocking her escape route, so she can back off if required. Whirling in one smooth movement, she slams the blade into his chest, viciously twisting it before withdrawing it back outwards, defending against the second target.
Angelique's blow shoves her blade into the thug's chest, sending blood spraying, partially covering her dress. Whirling she just has time to see the other thug's face go white inf ear, but the sap is already falling.
The leader curses when he sees the other man spurting blood. "Damn it, he told us she wouldn't go easily." With that he hurries up to join the fight.
With the stabbed thug either dead, dying, or preoccupied with the amount of blood spraying from his chest, Angelique backs off, making use of a now open escape point. Retreating slightly, Angelique sprays the area where she was previously with a Grease spell - giving her slightly more space, and making the area slightly more advantageous to her
The men curse the Grease, but carefully stay out of it, skirting the edge of the alley, holding onto the dirty, rough walls. It does slow them down a good deal whoever.
Angelique, appreciating the extra room, continues to back away slightly, kiting her enemies back before casting another Grease spell, this time directed at the closest person, saturating his clothing.
"Friendly warning, unless you step out of those clothes that I have just hurled grease at, I'm going to set it alight and watch the magic happen. That goes for both of you. Here's a better idea, drop your weapons, and stand down - sooner or later someone is going to walk by and wonder while a female is being attacked and outnumbered by two thugs and will do the chivalrous thing - and then everything ends in failure for you guys".
The leader grunts and says, 'They didn't mention you were a caster." He sounds disgusted at he lack of information. Finally he shrugs, 'Go on ahead. You win, lass. Our boss didn't tell us enough, and you got the drop on us. You got lucky."
Angelique rolls her eyes. "There were three of you, ambushing me from flanking positions and somehow I got the drop in you? That's not luck in my part, rather poor execution on yours. Still, if you wish to let me pass, drop your weapons and back away from them. Then let me walk safely by and in return, I won't set anyone alight. Of course, I'd be even more tempted to uphold my side of the bargain if I knew who your boss was so I can tremble in my shoes. Care to explain?"
The leader laughs, "Unless you have more money then I think, I think we'll just call it a draw, miss?" With that the thugs slowly back away, half dragging the bloody man.
"I might know for certain who hired you - but I bet others are. By nightfall everyone will know this person was too cowardly to face me on their own, and the three men this person did hire were all beaten by a slim human female, heck I can also stretch it to brothel worker, despite her being at a numerical and tactical disadvantage. I do hope that your boss knows how to explain that to the people he or she rubs shoulders with."