Ivan shakes his head. He understood Rodrik's father, how it could feel and seem to him. But, to let it drive family apart.... He'd never heard of this in his time here.
I promise ye, we will find whoever did this. An' make 'em pay.
he turns to the group.
I say, we go to the Sanctuary an' see if anythin' comes up there, we can ask tha priest there if there is any way they could check Rodrik for poison. Any other ideas?
"Perhaps we should speak to this Jagrim then. It sounds like it won't be a pleasant visit but it must be done" Edgar says as Daseem Blurts out.
"I suppose since you were his betrothed we should show this to you," he. continues as he pulls out the letter for her to look over."Again, I apologize for not showing you sooner but I did not want to salt the wound any further."
Brinya stares at the letter and mouths the name Melira several times, evidently committing it to memory rather than in familiarity. Handing it back she nods,
"Make me feel better by finding whoever killed my Rodrik and hurting them until they die - please."
Menrozzar sighed. At the suggestion they speak to Jagrim, he wasn’t so sure that would go well. Directing their way to the Sanctuary would be less awkward, he was sure. Out loud, he said, ”Thank you for your time, Brinya. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Once outside, he turns to Edgar and says, ”Could I see the letter you found again?”
”we can try” Edgar says.
Once they are outside, “of course, here you go” he hands the letter to Menrozzar.
As the group make their way towards Trunau's Chapel of Iomedae, moving through the thick whirling mist and downpour they hear a loud metallic thunk echo out, followed by a ferocious cacophony of snarls!
Scrabbler and Menrozzar
Snarling Things
Bupkis, Ivan, Daseem, Edgar
Menrozzar looks up from his study of the letter and reacts as soon as he hears the sound of snarling, unlimbering his lucerne hammer and stepping forward to shield Edgar from their attacks. He prepares to attack whatever it is if it comes towards them from the mist.
"Curse this fog. Does anyone know what that is?"
Scrabbler heard the sound of snarling creatures and instinctively ducked behind the nearest cover.
The emaciated young wolves emerge charging through the fog slavering with white foam visible around their gaping toothy maws! Eyes afire with savagery two hurl themselves at Menrozzar. He swings his hammer at one agile beast which flashes under it and lunges at him, while the other presents an opening as it lunges to, but the thick fog blurs the bloodrager's vision and causes him to swing wide of the mark.
But neither beast can penetrate Menrozzar's armor, their teeth skittering harmlessly against the thick metal scales.
The last wolf barrels forward finally catching sight of Daseem, but not quick enough to attack before the battle hardened Gorumite.
Daseem was startled by the sudden attack from the emaciated wolves. With a sense of detachment he watched one of them slavering as it charged though the mist towards him, at the last moment he snapped to and drew his weapon in one fluid movement. He brought six feet of hardened steel down in an overhead chop that would have been devastating if it had hit.
Bupkis strained to see the wolf attacking Daseem. "Ivan let's Bupkis in?"
As the wolves rush in and snap at Menrozzar, Edwin immediately steps up and takes a swipe with his scythe at the dark furred wolf.
Edwin’s scythe finds its mark and slices at the wolf as Edgar draws his star knife and steps up to strike at the white wolf.
Edwin slashes at the wolf but doesn’t hit his mark as the fog is to thick.
”Mangy beasts! How’d they get in the town?!’ he says as he slashes.
The wolf yelps as Edwin's scythe thunks home sending blood spraying forth and exposing half of its ribcage, but its madness keeps the dire wound from slowing it.
Ivan moves past Edgar to block the other wolves from getting to him while drawing his warhammer. He swings at the wolf in front of him, bringing the hammer up over his head.
How'd these bastards get into tha town? Bah! doesn't matter, Coming through edgar! Comere' ye Mangy fleabag!
His brings his hammer down on the creatures head, the warhammer clearing the fog in its path and then a sickening thud can be heard as it cracks bone.
Hah! That'll learn ya... oh, oops.
Snapping at the iron coated dwarf the wolf doesn't even hit his armor, teeth clacking together as they find nothing but air.
Bupkis stepped into the space that Ivan had left. With a very loud manifestation of aetheric power, he wound up and punched the wolf with his armored fist. "Bad, nasty dog!"
The wolf struck by Ivan sways woozily, but stays up its rabid fury keeping it going, though its eyes are glazed. Bupkis wolf falls knocked unconscious by the aetheric assault blood tricking from its maw mixing with the white foam.
As the dog charged out of the fog, Scrabbler's blade lashed out.
Scrabbler dove out of his hiding place past the wolf he'd just hamstrung and moved to flank with Ivan.
He left his small blade embedded in the dog's side and hung on!
Scrabbler's blade downs the last wolf and silence descends once more. The wolves lie dying and now look sad small things, almost cubs, that have clearly been starved every bone visible in their scrawny forms.
Moving forward towards the wolves origin you see an abandoned wagon, the inside of which is torn up, covered in claw marks, and stinks of urine and faeces.
Bupkis moved forward to the wagon. He looked around for tracks of whoever had brought it here. "Wolves come in cart? Who brings?"
Bupkis can barely see the ground in the fog and rain, and any footprints elude him.
Menrozzar curses as he looks at the wolf corpses, then says, ”Dammit, how did they get in town?” He moves to the wagon and joins Bupkis in trying to figure out how this happened.
Ivan will spend 2 minutes rummaging around the cart, taking time to carefully exam and look for any signs of ownership or any dropped/misplaced possessions.
As he rummages around he grumbles to himself. Durned thing stinks. Probably had those blasted wolves in 'ere for a week. Come on ye bastards, I know he were dumb enough ta leave somethin'!
As the battle ends Edgar and Edwin will approach the cart as well trying to keep an eye for anymore threats as the rest look for clues.
”find anything Ivan?”
Daseem frowns, thinking 'To attack superior numbers, they must have been utterly desperate. What are they doing here in town? Something about this stank and it wasn't just the abandoned wagon'
Before the others wrecked any evidence with their clumsy feet, Daseem stalked forwards and looked to see if the wolves had left any trails leading elsewhere. It seemed unlikely given their desperation, but you never knew for sure before you looked.
In the cart Ivan and the others find a few pieces of glass that appear to have come from a broken vial or two. Looking at the cushion of the drivers seat at the front of the wagon they spot traces of blood down the back of it, seemingly missed when more was wiped away. On the back of the wagon a heavy, but rusty padlock in the mud has looks to have been recently hacked open judging by the gleam of bright metal on either side of its cut loop.
Daseem is certain after a few moments that the wolves were released from the wagon and simply made their way to the nearest source of potential prey.
Menrozzar picks up the lock, then scowls. "Someone intentionally brought these wolves into the town, then let them loose without a care who they hurt - although if they intended to slow our investigation, they succeeded. We need to find this Urnsul. Let's get to the Ramblehouse."
”I agree, I want to ask Cham about those two half orc ladies last night.” Edgar says, “and maybe ask the gate guards who brought the wagon in town.”
Bupkis chimed in about something that the half-orc weaver had said, "Brinya say Rodrik often go Sanctuary. Bupkis not know what Sanctuary is, but maybe something important there?"
Since Sancturay and The Ramblehouse are virtually adjacent to one another the group head that way, first making their way to the Ramblehouse.
A young halfling lad sits at the reception desk industriously sketching something on the back of a piece of white washed board, which he quickly conceals beneath the desk,
"Alright? What can I do fer you lot? No room thanks to those bleedin' half orcs. No offence, little green half orc guys."
”Hello young innkeep, I was wondering if I could speak to Cham again... but, what can you tell me about the half orcs? I’m actually in the middle of an investigation and they may be able to help.” Edgar asks as they approach the desk. i wonder if our suite is still ours...
Daseem was troubled by their findings, and in particular the casual cruelty whoever was responsible had shown to both Rodrick and the wolves. War of course full of suffering, but it was where man could transcend themselves and become something greater, something glorious. This affair however was just sordid.
As they approached the Ramblehouse Daseem's eye noticed the slip of a halfling lad who was sketching something. Apparently embarrassed the lad quickly hid it, but was he faster than Daseem's eye?
As Edgar began asking questions, Daseem hung back and watched and listened carefully. He weighed each word spoken and the way they where spoken, trying to divine the presence of any subterfuge.
Menrozzar, knowing they had worn down their welcome earlier, remained quiet and allowed Edgar to continue taking the lead. He perked up a bit at the lad's comment on bleedin' half orcs - they may still be here and could be questioned.
Menrozzar waited for Edgar to finish questioning, speculating on the lad's drawing.
Sadly it proves difficult to see the drawing. The halfling lad shrugs in response to Edgar, "Err, why? Me Mum said not to disturb her if possible, I can't help you? What do you need?"
Ivan would share his findings with the others, and then grumbles about not finding anything of real note or use in the cart. We need ta find our who this cart belongs too. Is there any sort O' registry in this town?
Once at the Ramblehouse Ivan stands behind the others, patiently waiting, though his patience had its limits, especially today.
Edgar leans in to speak to the young lad, “well it’s about the incident last night, I’m sure you know what I’m reffering too,’ he says before continuing,” I wanted to ask Cham about some guests she had last night as well as see if I could question some of the current guests as well.”
Panic flares in the young halfling's eyes, "What! Me and Eloise were just tryin' something out, for research purposes like! I never told Triss we were... Oh, wait you mean Rodrik, oh, oh, nope me M'am would murder me if I bothered her."
He picks up the reservations book and tosses it forward on the desk, "Just look at that and talk to who you like. But I mean, not if they won't talk to you and all. We know our rights!"
Bupkis reassured the boy with a wink, "We no say! Secret safe!"
Scrabbler tilted his head to the side. "Maybe you tells us what your rights are? That seem good to know."
"The right to... to... to tell you to... Well alright I ain't got a bleedin' clue. But that still doesn't mean you won't get ganked by a dozen of my kinfolk if you start harassing guests. Just tellin' you, no skin off my nose if you want to become perforated people." The young halfling says, eyeing your group warily.
"Skin off you nose?" Scrabbler had no idea what the halflongshanks just said. "What's a perfamated people?" Scrabbler asked.
The halfling holds up a finger and grabs the charcoal he was drawing with before scribbling vigorously beneath the desk for a moment, he then holds up a picture of a busty halfling woman wearing a hastily scribbled on dress with about a dozen knives stabbed into her person. Its not a bad effort, though her winking come hither expression hardly seems appropriate anymore.
"Oh, you means stabbings!" Scrabbler snickered and nodded. "Perfamated..."
Scrabbler liked learning new words for his favorite things.
Bupkis didn't like the stabby picture, although he didn't say anything. The clash between the knives and the facial expression was deeply disturbing.
"Uh...", this exchange was so bizarre that Daseem had to pinch himself, 'No Daseem you're not dreaming. Still clearly going inside is going to cause trouble of one sort or another. Perhaps there is something to be said for the path of least resistance...' He glances at the nearby Sanctuary and mutters, "M-maybe we should come back later?"
Thank ye fer ya help laddie. We'll be sure ta not cause too large a scene. Ivan takes the ledger, and looks for the name. He also looks for any new sign-ins up to a week before this happened.
Ivan quickly spots Urnsul's name, apparently sharing a room with four others, Peotyr, Kurn, Cherra, and Feldin - a note in an angry hand reads "Ruined! Graffiti". He sees the groups own room, paid up for a week, and the nameless entry, but nothing else seems to jump out.
He memorizes the room number, and starts to head that way.
Alright lads, lets see ifn' we can make some sense O' all this bloody mess.
Without looking back to see if the others are following, he heads off to the room. Armor clanking the whole way.
Menrozzar looked to Edgar and said, ”Take the lead in questioning once we get to the room. Ivan and I will remain outside the room if you need us. We don’t want them to feel crowded in.”
Once they get there, Menrozzar will stand to the side of the door.
Inside the room are two middle aged halfling men in the process of painting a wall covered in extremely bright white graffiti. It consists mainly of crude anatomical drawing, with a violent bent, and a what looks like a very rough map of Trunau which is now half covered by paint. There are also a number of holes in the rooms wall, several that appear to have been made by fists, and one that looks more like an axe.
"Oh, you lot are the investigators right? Bet it was these filthy orcs that did it, though might be a bit too clever for them, though they can be surprisingly sneaky." One of the halflings says, glowering at the graffiti.
"Buggers used some sort of special dye, the girls have been scrubbing for hours and couldn't get shot of it. We're even going to have to replace some of the panelling."