Olivius scowls. Magnimar. Wonderful. My Father has business dealins there. The chances of my presence going unnoticed is slim.
Asuriel frowns at the mention of Magnimar as well, clearly not eager in returning. "I mean, we just got back from there. Surely our attacker didn't make his way from Magnimar, slaughter these people and return to Magnimar? Does the river flow nearby to Sandpoint at all? Anywhere local we could perhaps check first before traveling down to Magnimar again?"
Ya. I mean dropping of something is one thing. But actually going and snooping around is not an idea I relish.
"Let's not jump to conclusions just yet," Saroune cautions. "There are other places to investigate."
The Foxglove River is a good hike to the south of Sandpoint, but still far closer to the town than to Magnimar. There's an old manor near where it empties into the Varisian gulf that's reputed to be haunted, which belonged to the family that took their name from the river and the flowers that bloomed along it.
There is that branch of the river that flows south of here. And that haunted manor house. We could check that out before trecking all the way to the city. But, Saroune is right. We should check out all the murder sites before we go anywhere.
"Haunted manor house, mmm?" Horatio mutters dryly. "Never would have thought such wonders were to be found in such a small town." Tucking the remains of the flower carefully inside his vest, he brushes off his hands before looking around. "We should look around the mill next, before we start planning any further jaunts."
The mill is much how you left it, silent and unoccupied save the guards keeping watch outside of the door.
Olivius carefully searches for similar claw marks or more flowers.
Asuriel decides that taking her time to search every square inch of the other crime scenes is an excellent use of her time. In fact, the longer she took the less likely it meant that someone bring up the idea of returning to Magnimar again. "I'm going to go over the other two crime scenes, anyone want to come with me? We could all stay together and search both scenes very carefully."
Olivius nods. I'm in. Let's do this
You find a set of prints in hidden in the grass near the bank of the river. As you investigate them, you find a scrap of blue cloth that smells far too strongly of death. Looking at the prints, they seem to form a straight line right into the river, as if whoever had made them had walked across it.
Asuriel isn't able to glean much from her investigations, but...
As you look over them, you suddenly find yourself in the alley at night. A noise comes from behind you. A tall figure looms over you, his blue and gold coat, which is vaguely familiar, gleaming darkly in the wan moonlight. With a snarl, he goes after you, dagger poised to carve into your chest.
"Well, at least we know where they came from," Horatio sighs, sniffing the scrap of fabric before reeling back from it. "Is there magic that allows one to walk across a river-bed? Or does our mystery murderer simply not need to breathe?" He looks across the river, adding, "We should check the other side, see if they match the prints."
Noro says nothing in the conversation. but she makes her choice obvious as she goes with Asuriel.
This whole mess has me a little worried. I mean, why were we singled out with those letters. A part of me wants to find this a-hole and rip his.... yet another part of me is a little scared.
“The latter would put another check-mark under the heading ‘killer is one of the undead’, Horatio,” Pavanna notes. She’s been doing her best to help with the searches of the various crime-scenes, but has been unwontedly quiet through-out, visibly lost in thought. Why does ‘Foxglove’ sound so bloody familiar, dammit? The river, the manor, the noble family — I know of them all, but I feel like I should recognise something about them! “One of the things that sets ghouls and their ilk apart from the living, and makes them so dangerous: they can happily go about their mischief needless of things like air.”
“I know the feeling, 妹妹,” she adds to Noro’s comment, still subdued and pre-occupied. “Asuriel, Saroune, you, me — we only met at the Swallowtail Festival, so whoever wrote to us all clearly met us recently, and quite possibly together.”
Asuriel searches the area carefully without coming up with much of anything useful at all. Even though she gets the impression there is something underneath the obvious here, she can't place her finger on it.
She wipes her head with the back of her hand and is about to call it quits when something happens. After he hands moves across her eyes she blinks several times rapidly as if she was unable to focus. Spinning in a circle she looks around confused and cries out for help. Seemingly unable to hear or respond to Olivius nearby, she begins to step backwards away from an invisible enemy while holding up her hands in self defense. "Olivius! Where did you go?" she calls, but is unable to hear any response.
Stepping backwards slowly, one foot over the other she retreats as her eyes widen with fear. Laced with fear her words tremble and end with a scream as she finally trips over top of Olivius's leg when she bumps into him. "What do you want? No, please, let's talk about this. No. NO!"
Olivius grabs the freaking out lady and keeps her from falling. He sits her down gently and takes her shoulders in his hands calling, Asuriel! Asuriel, wake up! You're stronger than this...whatever it is!
Asuriel breaks free from her vision, clearly terrified of something. When she realizes it isn't real and was something else she takes several deep breaths to attempt to calm herself down. She doesn't thank Olivius as much as he does just place a hand on his shoulder to reassure herself of reality.
After a minute she explains to Olivius, "I'm not quite sure what just happened. I-I was looking around here and when I was searching something, something just happened. I was somewhere else. It was dark, in the evening. I was in the alley and heard a noise behind me. I saw a tall figure standing over me with a blue and gold coat. The man looked familiar, but his face escapes me at the moment. Anyway, he snarled at me and came at me with a dagger ready to kill me."
She pauses as she thinks about what she just said, shaking her head to try and clear the cobwebs. "Perhaps if I think on it some more?"
It's just there at your metaphorical fingertips, but when you mention meeting them recently, you get that itch like you know that you knew, but have forgotten.
Making your way across, you find the spot that you believe the attack to have come out of, and you can see where they apparently sat in waiting. You can also smell it. The stench is faint, but definitely strong with decay.
Noro was searching the area when Asuriel has her "incident" she listens to what happened soon thoughts running through her mind trying to figure it out.
she pulls out an old worn journal and starts to flip through it pages like she thinks she saw something that was described noted in her journal.
Roll an Int check.
Given the lack of detail in Asuriel's description, the best you are able to figure is that it was a nobleman from Magnimar, given the predilection of the aristocrats there for choosing clothing that incorporates both as a statement of their own affluence.
You are almost certain that you have seen the coat that you saw in your vision, and fairly recently too, but you can't put your finger on when.
Asuriel puts her hand on her forehead and closes her eyes straining in thought. "I know I've seen the coat he was wearing before, I just can't remember where. It was recently though, that I'm sure of it. It will come to me."
Looking around at the group she shrugs her shoulders, "I suppose we should move along then."
Indeed. Let's move.
Olivius repeats his inspection at the next scene.
Despite his best efforts, Olivius isn't able to glean anymore information from the third scene. Asuriel, though, feels a chill run down her spine, and a strong sense of deja vu, but thankfully, she does not have another vision.
Noro got a little lost in thought as the group proceeded, Does anyone remember the name foxglove?
I mean the guy we rescued during the goblin attack. he was a bit of a flirt if I recall, well at least to you pretty ones. I wonder If there is a connection?
Asuriel is caught off guard by Noro's comment, turning to face her while shaking her finger at her. "You know Noro, that is an excellent observation. He was that foppish fool who was infatuated with Saroune, wasn't it?"
Olivius says, No he--, a little to quickly as receivers with, -- I don't recall...
He suddenly looks like his generally repressed emotions are undergoing something of a jail riot and his efforts to keep it under wraps are rapidly failing.
“That Foxglove, of course!” Pavanna blurts, once again relieved that someone has plucked an idea off the tip of her brain before its dancing drove her (more) crazy. “What was his name? Albert, Alfred, something like that? The useless tit who took us boar-hunting trying to impress us, and somehow managed to get us lost on the borders of the Fae Realms!?” She doesn’t even try to suppress a full-body shudder at that memory. Kyna and her new vassals might have been gentle and gracious in her dealings with their band, but she was still Fae, and newly-minted in her power to boot.
Never ever EVER deal with the Fae. Gods you can please, or propitiate; demons and devils can be slain or banished, the undead put back in their graves, elementals commanded or dismissed... but the Fae Folk have no strictures, only fancies and whims, amusements and tantrums. The terms of any agreement with a Fae mean only what they want them to mean, and to break your word to them once is to negate all bargains. I would happily never again get so close to the First World or its denizens.
Deal with the Fae? Not. Even. Once.
Olivius growls a little at the reminder. Oh ya. Him. I have no idea how to find him, but I'm sure someone does. Regardless, we skills probably check out this manor house. Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll be there.
Asuriel frowns, "Wait a minute. We think he is behind this? Perhaps you aren't remembering the same man I am? I don't see the connection.
That's the point. You aren't supposed to see one. If they're was an obvious connection Hemlock would have nabbed him already.
"Aldern, of course!" Horatio smacks his own forehead with a groan. "The cloth scraps, the flower, the manor house, the footprints - it all makes sense now!" He looks across the river, adding, "I don't much fancy the idea, but we'd best get to the manor, and soon."
Saroune is aghast with the revelation. "Aldern? No... he was strange and forward. But a killer?" She grasps for words.
"I do think we should visit his manor, but only to put this theory to bed."
Asuriel shakes her head. "I think I would keep any mentions of his bed to yourself Saroune, else they be ill interpreted by our aforementioned noble."
Evaluating their options she adds, "Alright then, we are to make a trip to his manor. Does anyone know how to get there? If we are suspecting the man of murder, should we not prepare appropriately?"
Olivius stops by the temple on his way out of town and picks up a few vials of holy water, just in case.