It's easy enough for Tyrrol to find Akron Erix. Soon the two are back with everyone else.
Akron whistles, "You gents move fast. I wasn't quite done recruiting. How'd you take him?"
"Probably for the best that we don't drag him into the camp in front of all his dubiously 'loyal' men. We can wait here until Tyrrol returns." Mordecai says quietly to Lothan and Lecian.
"If we don't have a chance to put him to the question, we could track back during the day to get an idea what he was doing over by the bluff..."
"Sounds good to me." Lothan lets him fall to the ground with a thud.
It's easy enough for Tyrrol to find Akron Erix. Soon the two are back with everyone else.
Akron whistles, "You gents move fast. I wasn't quite done recruiting. How'd you take him?"
"Well, he was heading our way and we finally arrived, we beat the crap out of him. Until he was unconscious of course. Not dead. Unfortunately. We figured we ought to return him the favor for what he did to our buddy Lecian here." He nods toward the wizard.
"Things don't always go as planned," Lecian says moodily. "Is it safe to go to our tent?"
"Before we proceed, did you wish him dead, or no?" Mordecai asks, dropping to one knee before Clegg's body and drawing a wavy-bladed dagger of Osirioni make, recognizable by it's double tips, like the fangs of a serpent.
"Well, he was heading our way and we finally arrived, we beat the crap out of him. Until he was unconscious of course. Not dead. Unfortunately. We figured we ought to return him the favor for what he did to our buddy Lecian here." He nods toward the wizard.
Akron looks at Lothan. "Doesn't look like he did much."
Then he kneels beside Clegg across from Mordecai. He examines the unconscious crime boss briefly, then rises to his feet and dusts his hands in a satisfied manner.
"Before we proceed, did you wish him dead, or no?"
"My clients would prefer him alive. And he might give us leverage with some of his more faithful underlings."
"Things don't always go as planned," Lecian says moodily. "Is it safe to go to our tent?"
"If you can lay Clegg out like that in a fair fight, I don't think anyone in the camp can stop you. Still it might be better to stick together until we're sure of the crew. And to make sure of the crew we need to control the chest with the gold and the skymetal."
Tyrrol shrugs.
"Well, let's head into the camp, and take control of the chest... If they attacked, though, there would be more loot to share between ourselves..."
"Alright then, let's get this over with."
"Do we want to confuse the issue by suggesting that Clegg was going to betray them to keep their shares of the skymetal for himself, and we are the good guys?" Mordecai suggests quietly. "Well, not the good guys, obviously, but less treacherous than Clegg..." he amends, with a slight smile.
"That's an idea. It might make it easier for us to buy them." Akron takes a deep thoughtful drag on his cigar.
A shower of sparks erupts as a log in the camp's bonfire cracks in two. Through the rough palisade Kuva and one of his fellow guards is silhouetted.
Mordecai puts his morningstar away, and begins dragging the unconscious thug into the clearing, pondering what sorts of lies (or half-truths) would be most plausible.
Mordecai drags Zincher through the gate. Kuva and the two guards turn to face him. The two guards rush forward with exclamations of surprise. "Hey! It's Urgath-- . It's Clegg! Is he all right?"
Kuva approaches more slowly, now conveniently at the back of his fellow guards.
Deciding to err on the side of caution, Mordecai chooses a lie that fits what the men have observed on the island already, "He must have been attacked by wormtongue zombies, and boldly fought them off. When he found him, we was an irrational state, near the bodies of several such creatures, and did not seem to recognize us. We were forced to subdue him, and I must use my healer's arts to attempt to purge him of the infection before he succumbs completely and his soul is lost. Help me get him into his tent."
Kuva shows no inclination to drag Clegg anywhere, but the two guards pitch in. You soon have Clegg in his tent.
Akron Erix follows behind.
The guards return to their duty.
Mordecai thanks the guards for their help and gets out his healing kit, waiting until they've left before closing it, and looking around to see if 'boss' Clegg had any wine lying about.
"That went better than expected. We didn't have to kill everyone..." he says dryly.
There's an open bottle of the light fruit wine on the table.
Tyrrol shrugs.
"'Tis a shame, but I dare say if we try hard enough, we will find a pretext before long..."
He then turns to Akron.
"Right then. Let's get down to business. How do you want to handle things?"
Akron walks around the tent looking at stuff. "Clegg knew how to live. Let's have a look in that chest."
"Gladly."
Tyrrol starts towards the chest, then stops, looking thoughtful.
"Before I simply crack it open, does Clegg have any keys upon his person?"
"I doubt he'd keep them anywhere else."
A quick search does indeed turn up the keys in Clegg's pocket. It's the work of a moment more to open the iron bound oak chest. Inside the cedar-lined chest is a bag. Inside the burlap bag are dozens of gold coins.
Tyrrol stares at the meager pile of gold coins incredulously.
"Where the hell is all of the skymetal that Clegg's men have recovered?"
He then begins to systematically search Clegg, and his tent, for any additional loot / clues...
Erix smacks his hand into his fist. "'Mashtu's t+&~! Clegg's been raiding the chest. But why?"
A systematic search reveals no sign of skymetal. No other clues.
"Well, I guess we will be investigating where Clegg has been going, after all..."
Tyrrol's voice trails off, and he is lost in thought for a few seconds, before continuing.
"Of course, since this means there is no Skymetal to share with the others in the official 'kitty', any that we *do* recover is ours, and ours alone..."
"Fine. If we're searching in the morning, I'm going to get some sleep right now." Lecian thinks for a bit. "Is anyone else going to use Clegg's tent?"
"If the tent is large enough, we should all remain here, as separating at this juncture seems unwise." Mordecai says, sniffing at the wine suspiciously.
"If the tent is large enough, we should remain here, in case someone attempts to arouse, or kill, Clegg." Mordecai says, sniffing suspiciously at the open bottle of wine before calling upon the goddess' favor to cleanse it of taint, and then taking a healthy swig before offering it to anyone else who might want a drink before returning to sleep for the remainder of the evening.
There is 383 gp in the bag in the chest along with a paper with the names of CLegg's crew and their share.
CLegg's gear
- 2 glass vials with a milky pink fluid
- 2 glass vials sealed with wax containing a clear fluid
- a copper tube holding liquid by the sound it makes when shaken
- leather armor
- pickaxe
- 3 throwing axes
- dagger
- amulet
- gauntlets
- 2 different keys
Also of interest in the tent are 20 sealed flasks of thick liquid scattered around. And a second chest in which you find a collection of papers and ledgers.
In the morning, Mordecai will call upon Urgathoa to allow him to see the auras of magic, and then gaze upon Clegg's items to divine which have magical power.
Afterwards, he'll also examine the papers and ledgers, to see if there is any useful information there.
...
"Well, I guess we will be investigating where Clegg has been going, after all..."
Tyrrol's voice trails off, and he is lost in thought for a few seconds, before continuing.
"Of course, since this means there is no Skymetal to share with the others in the official 'kitty', any that we *do* recover is ours, and ours alone..."
Akron thinks a bit. "We know Clegg's our payday. It would be easier to share the skymetal with the rest of the crew than kill them all I think. They dug it up after all."
Akron continues, "All I'm saying is those guys will fight if you try to take their shares."
Tyrrol shrugs.
"Currently, though, there is no skymetal - just some chump change..."
"Hey, as long as I get mine, I'm good."
Looking up from the items he is examining for signs of magical dweomer, as a thought occurs to him, "Does this expedition have it's own boat for return, or are you awaiting a certain time to meet a ship that will come to greet you?" Mordecai asks Akron.
"The ships are due back in three days." Akron replies.
Items emanating magic:
2 glass vials with a milky pink fluid
a copper tube holding liquid by the sound it makes when shaken
leather armor
amulet
gauntlets
The amulet is natural armor.
Mordecai piles the magical items separately, and asks Lecian what he makes of them.
"These items are magical, but I can only divine that the amulet provides protection as if one's skin has become like the hide of a beast. Do you have some insight as to the properties of the gauntlets, armor, potions or this odd copper tube that seems to contain liquid?"
Tyrrol shrugs.
"I can have a look as well, if you like... interpreting magical auras is not strictly my area, but I do have some basic skill..."
"Yes, that shouldn't be too difficult."
Between you, you can sort out them all out:
+1 Leather Armor
Gauntlets of Ogre Power (Strength +2)
2 Potions of Cure moderate wounds
Copper tube -- potion of shield of faith
Noting that Lecian is still wounded from his encounter with Clegg, Mordecai draws a wand from his belt and gives him a touch of healing magic.
Kuva flips open the tent flap. "I couldn't squash those to guys forever. Word's getting around camp. They want to know what happened to Clegg."
Tyrrol shrugs.
"We could tell a... version... of the truth; we discovered that Clegg had squirreled the skymetal away somewhere, and decided to beat it out of him...
...we can then tell them that we are going to look for it, but that Clegg needs to stay alive in the meantime, in case he needs to be interrogated further."
He then shrugs again.
"We can't say he was attacked by a creature - anyone who gets a look at his wounds will see that he was beaten-up by weapons, not teeth and claws... Of course, we could just kill them all... Having said that, the first option requires marginally less effort."
"My original fabrication was that we were forced to subdue him, that he was in an irrational state after being attacked by wormtongue zombies, and that I was going to attempt to cure the infection. Ideally, we should stick to the same story. It serves to explain his wounds, delivered by our weapons, and yet rationalize why we were forced to render him unconscious." Mordecai says.
"Although, we could shift suspicion by saying that the wormtongues he had felled were originally half-orcs, which seems to us odd, since we only know of expeditions of men and dwarves come to this isle. And, to deepen the suspicion, these mythical half-orc wormtongues could be described as having been dressed in black leather, with one bearing an envenomed blade, and no sign of workman's tools, as if they had been sent on an assassination mission, and not on a dig for skymetal..."
"Set their tongues awagging and minds assuming that a rival crimelord sent killers to strike at Clegg while he was away from his base of power in Riddleport, and they will spend the night alert for more 'half-orc assassins,' rather than concerning themselves with our motives."
Tyrrol shrugs again.
"That could work, too."
"Could work," Akron agrees. "But no matter what you say, they're going to worry about the skymetal. What are we going to tell them when they find out it's gone?
"That's a good idea, Mordecai."
"Could work," Akron agrees. "But no matter what you say, they're going to worry about the skymetal. What are we going to tell them when they find out it's gone?
Lothan ponders the question for a moment, then turns his gaze to Mordecai. "Mordecai? I'll let you handle this one; you're on a roll. Plus, I'd just as well rid ourselves of these scum. But I don't think that's the way we want to roll with this." He grins wryly.
Keeping his voice low, in case some light-footed scoundrel is attempting to listen to the conversation within the tent, "Keeping at least some of them alive makes sense, for now. There are who knows how many of those tentacle-hounds and wormtongue zombies out there, and every moron we don't have to kill is one more person between ourselves and having an ovipositor rammed down our throats." Mordecai says, pointing at the list of names eligible for a share of the absent skymetal. "And there do seem to be an awful lot of them..."
"I would recommend *not* letting them know that their shares of skymetal have gone missing. They'll tear the place apart looking for it, start killing each other over false accusations, and quite possibly mob us in the process. I'd rather be nowhere near them when they discover this."
He leans his head outside the tent, expecting to find at least a few of Clegg's men looking that way, and says, "While the boss is stricken, who hear speaks for the men?"
Akron mentions quietly, "I suppose I would do. I've been Clegg's lieutenant for a while now."
Outside, the six men at the campfire look at each other. They straighten up one by one and approach. "What's wrong with Clegg?" Some heads poke out of tents. The men on the wall turn to look at the developing scene. "If Clegg's dead, we want to vote in the new leader."