Perhaps too gruffly, Kragmyr spoke up. He was doing his best not to think of her orcish blood. While he was of the opinion that you couldn't judge a half-orc for the crimes of their father, he still didn't trust them.
"Cryin' ain't gonna help. But ye help us and we'll help ye find who did this. What's this investigation ye speak of?"
"He didn't tell me anything more... perhaps... maybe something in his journal. He kept most of his writings in there...(sob) such beautiful poems and stories! Oh my love...."
Ulark tries to time a gap in the sobs before patting her shoulder. He worries the metal covering his arm might grate against the woman's skin.
Rodrick's journal? The man keep it on him? At the guardhouse?
Oh, the paladin says as his eyes fall to the hopeknife dangling from Brinya's neck. Found a receipt for a hopeknife in the boy's room. For a dirk engraved to him, from a love. Still need to see if that knife...was involved, but do you have a thought about it?
"My condolences for your loss, Ma'am, but what can you tell us about Roderick's state of mind these last couple of days. Did he have any run ins with another human?" he begins to describe the man that Cham had described "none of us believe that Roderick took his own life and any information, no matter how insignificant, can be of help."
"His journal? He usually carried it on him. He would write the most beautiful poetry in it."
"Receipt for a hopeknife? That makes little sense... unless..."
A few sobs later, she perks up at Thuradin's question. "I know not of this man you describe... someone might have murdered him? Are you sure? WHY?!? Oh, my poor Roderick! This is all my fault..." she sobs some more.
Dont know murder yet. Just giving each stone a lift. Ulark says, trying to calm the uncalmable.
Turning the his fellow dwarves: Not sure I'm her state the girl knows much more. There's a chance this journal could have something, but if it was a kill it'd like to be taken. Shiuld we meet the others having conversation with Rodrick's partner? He may've got an ear of the dead's hunt?
"You seem to know something about this hopeknife? Why would Roderick commission another one when he already had yours?" Switching to Dwarven Thuradin strokes his beard, thoughtfully "No one found this journal in his room, so it may be as Ulark says and it was taken from him after he was dead, in which case it is lost. Or maybe he kept it someplace else, someplace safer. Say in the barracks at the Longhouse. Either way I say we leave the young lady to let her grief run it's course."
Brinya shakes her head, not knowing why another knife might have been commissioned.
The barracks then. Ulark nods. Unless you have another thought Kragmyr, let's go see this man's partner.
The dwarf turns to Brinya and lowers his head. Thank you for the time ma'am. I we find anything untoward or more week come back and let you know. Again, we grieve with you.
As you wrap up and leave, you enter the street and find a couple of rabid young wolves approaching you.
"Wolves? How did bloody wolves get inside the walls?" Thuradin says, obviously shocked to see the animals inside the city proper. Once the shock subsides he draws his waraxe and begins chanting a prayer to Torag.
Time to ask that once they're put down! Ulark says as he shakes off his own stunned surprise. Feeling Torag's blessing upon him, the paladin give a quick prayer to his own favorite dwarven god as he steps up and lashes out at the closest cur with his longaxe.
for
Ulark cuts the first wolf down, as the others rush in.
for
As the wolves attack, Ulark's long reach gives him a chance to kill another wolf.
Kragmyr steps back, eyes wide. A half dozen seconds later once he has recovered himself, two of the hounds already lie dead. [spoiler=Dwarven]"Looks like someone wants us dead!"
He raises his hammer to swing, but as he prepares to attack the hound he checks it at the last second to avoid harming his companions.
Does seem a bit strange any other way! Ulark yells back as Kragmyr's fire fuels his own Stepping back to make room for a proper slash, the warrior swings his axe at the remaining wolf
for
Thuradin passes dangerously close to the jaws of the wolf facing Kragmyr as he passes behind him to get at the one attacking him.
The wolf evades all of the attacks, and snaps at Thuradin as he passes.
The wolf continues to attack, but fails to get a hold of anyone.
Careful Thuradin! Ulark calls out as the wolf bites at his companion. Move to flank the cur carefully.
He then strikes out once more.
for
Kragmyr raises his axe to swing, but once again it merely whistles as it swings through the air, passing harmlessly over its head.
"Mangy fookin' cur!"
After an initially strong response, now the dwarves appear to be dancing with wolves.
Thuradin dances, as nimbly as a dwarf can, behind the wolf facing Ulark once again drawing close to it's snapping jaws as he places the creature between himself and the other dwarves. Once in position he swings his axe at the wolf, landing a solid blow on it's exposed haunches.
Ulark grunts in recognition. Fine blow Thuradin.
The paladin pulls out a cloth and carefully cleans the splattered blade of his axe as he peers at the wolves and looks around warily.
Wolves in town strange enough. But rabid too? Too much askew in Trunau of late. We should find the others quickly: if we do have an enemy, they need a warning.
Darkness sets in as you all re-group at Ramblehouse.
Kragmyr, sitting with his fellow dwarves, says bluntly
"Someone tried to kill us today. Set rapid wolves on myself, Thuradin and Ulark. If it wasn't for their skill at arms there'd be a few more unsolved murders to solve. So...where do we go from here?"
"I think i would have handled the wolf situation better than trying to be nice to that half-orc woman. I clearly need more practice speaking to non-dwarves. You'd think these races with short lives would want to spend less time talking, but they seem happy to tip-toe around the important stuff with all those human pleasantries and compliments! Pah!"
Torith tries his best to hide the embarrassment he feels at his lack of social finesse...
...but even some dwarven surliness can't hide his feelings. It's so clear that he may a swell have dwarven runes etched on his face.
"I didn't talk to the lass for long before i left. Maybe Belir and Thozar had better luck once i was gone."
"We lerned an apprentice smith named Urnsul crafted the blade and quit shortly after. Other than that, I'm afraid we didn't learn anything else. The attempts on your lives make this matter all the more serious. I propose we stay close tonight, there may be more."
While at the Ramblehouse, Thozar will indulge in another meal, reveling in the fact that he can have hot meals prepared when he wants them.
Ulark listens carefully as the other dwarves report their own discoveries.
So a passing smith made the knife responsible. And Sara's no idea where he is now? From Brinya's mouth, the receipt we found means the room's knife wouldn't match.
Oh, and the girl said Rodrick kept a journal. Was writing down an investigation of his. Biggest find of his life. The book's somewhere: if it's found it could have more answers. Any of you find this Frum friend of his? Man might have it.
Gundar joins the other dwarves with Omast Frum in tow. "Ay, all you. This here is.... er, was Rodrik's partner, Omast Frum."
"Been drunk and gibbering all day, can't make sense of what he saying. Tried to stick with him till he dried out. Something about Rodrik's death being Frum's fault."
{Dwarven}"Frum's fault? Worth talking to him for sure."
"It is a pleasure Omast Frum. Join us for a meal why don't you?! I understand you worked closely with the deceased, let us have a meal and drink in his honor!"
|
Back at the Ramblehouse Belir brings Omast round after round of coffee and water. "There ya be lad. Not everyone can hold it like a dwarf. This'll get ya feeling right as rain."
Belir spends the evening exchanging notes with the rest of the dwarves and trying to keep Omast away from the alcohol and supplying the man with more sobering drinks while the others speak with him about what they heard.
Ulark moves to shake the guard's hand. Omast. Ulark. I know it's been quite the shock today. The brother asked us to help look for answers just as you and he are.
Seems Rodrick had a journal of sorts. Might make clear what he was looking into. Any idea where the book went?
Omast's eyes widen at the suggestion of a drink, but Belir and Gundar manage to keep him sober.
"Journal? Yah, he kept one. If it weren't on him, I don't know where it would be. I expect he would have trusted me with it... maybe old Katrezra. Don't know why the boy liked that half-breed so much, but I think he trusted him. The half-orc lives at the Sanctuary."
"Good to meet you Omast, i'm Torith." says the miner, before tucking in to his evening meal.
He decides to watch the more talkative members of the group to better understanding of how to talk when dealing with non-dwarves.
Another half-orc Ulark mutters to himself quietly. Rodrick had many friends with the toothed.
It's been a time since I've been back to Trunau. Remind me Omast: where is 'Sanctuary'?
"How many of these mongrels do we need to deal with?"
As he heard the word Sanctuary, Kragmyr's ears perked. He listened intently to Omast's answer to see if it matched what he knew.
"Sanctuary? Why it is right next door! Temple dedicated to Iomedea. Most them priests are Lastwallers, though - not real Trunau citizens. I don't trust em!"
"First thing in the morning we should find that journal. Likely to be our next solid lead!"
Thozar will finish dining and drinking over the course of the next hour, then head up to his room and sleep in a real bed. It hasn't been long enough since I slept in one of these things... I'd sooner sleep on the ground outside where I can feel the earth if it wasn't for a bloody murderer out and about!
Thuradin spends some time talking with Omast before retiring to bed. He clasps the man's shoulder and looks him in the eyes before saying "Look, I too know what's its like to lose a friend, a comrade in arms, and it's never an easy thing but death comes for us all sooner or later and there's nothing you or I or anyone short of Pharasma herself can do about it and the Lady will have her due. Crawling into a bottle to hide your pain is all well and good, as long as you intend to stay in that bottle for the rest of your life. Grieve for your friend a as you will but ask yourself "Is this what the lad would've wanted?"
With that he puts down his cup and heads up to his room.
Kragmyr lowers his cup and starts to say something in support of Thuradin. It was about honor and grudges and whatnot. But at the last second he closes his mouth, shakes his head and mutters in dwarven "Thagi un Wazzocki."* before retiring for the night.
* Literal translation: Murderers and the foolish/guillable. Grumbling about humans and the situation in general.
Careful how much your tongue judges. Ulark says staring pointedly at Kragmyr. No babe chooses the ones who bring and bear them.
Still, the warrior is tired, and, seeing the other dwarves looking after a hopefully sobering Omast and with the new lead likely better followed tomorrow, excuses himself and departs, ready to reconvene in the morning to visit the Iomedean temple.
Kragmyr glares at the paladin as he walks out. He opens his mouth to respond, but thinking better of it finishes his drink and retires for the night.
Ramblehouse has a 2 gp per room cost. Please pay your 2gp. I have placed you in rooms, but if you care to switch, or share, please set up accordingly.
Knowing that Thuradin is short on funds, Kragmyr says as he goes to retire for the night "Thuradin, the room they gave me is human sized. Feel free to stay here for the night, far too much room for one dwarf."