Jofram ponders the trail of evidence all the way back to considering Dinwat's modus operandi...
1. The text on this bill is irrelevant. Consider this a 'scrap' piece of paper that Dinwat used.
2. There is no conspiracy between Dinwat and anyone in the Consortium or any gnolls. He is a 'lone gunman' in this thing aside from the help he got from the person known as L.C..
3. Since his correspondence with L.C. wasn't encoded or hidden, you can assume that this scrap of paper has nothing to do with L.C. - i.e. this scrap has nothing to do with conspiracies, lists of contacts, or anything cloak & dagger.
4. This scrap of paper wasn't just something that accidentally got placed in Dinwat's secret files. It is important, important enough to secure and hide.
5. Consider Dinwat's tactics. He combined magic at times (Dancing Lights & Ghost Sounds in the forest) with mundane tricks (the wolf-paw stilts) to fool people. So clearly he didn't rely on magic all the time. He is quite capable of using 'old school' tricks. In an era when people default to looking for magical means of concealment and magical solutions, it is a smart tactic. Ushari and Straehan did Detect Magic on the scrap and found nothing.
Your 'over 20' result, entitles you to ask more questions. Feel free to ping me publicly or privately if you're stumped or want clarification.
Jofram moves to the window, holding the scrap of paper against the backdrop of the afternoon sky. He examines it for any trace of hidden ink or watermarks.
Jofram places the bill against the glass lit by the large lamp on the walkway. It shines through the thick paper. With his face pushed close to the page, Jofram smells a hint of lemon coming from the document. He can barely make out that there are some light scratch marks, as from a quill, on the back of the receipt and sees faint evidence of a dried liquid on it.
Jofram holds the note carefully above the lamp's chimney, heating the paper in an attempt to reveal the hidden etchings.
Jofram carefully passes the bill by the flue, slowly heating it until red-brown text begins to appear on the gently crisping parchment through a simple chemical reaction.
When Jofram shows her the contents of the message, Ushari shakes her head in bemusement. "That Dinwat, what a piece of work he was! Good thinking there, Jofram. It never occurred to me to check the parchment itself." After looking over the message once again, she continues with a gleam in her eyes. "This sounds like something worth the effort of checking out!"
Jofram nods at Ushari's assesment, then turns to the foreman and Hallec. "Thank you for your cooperation in this matter. We'll leave you to your business, now."
Crispy new treasure map in hand, our heroes exit the lumber mill... just in time to greet the arriving Constabulary - attired in light armor, tabards with what you presume is the city's crest, and carrying truncheons as well as swords. All weapons are sheathed save for a worn truncheon in the lead Guard's meaty fist.
Their leader eyes everyone in the throng suspiciously before growling "Awright. What's this then?"
The Guards quickly sort the details of what happened from the flurry of responses spouted from the assembled group. Hallec, still looking shaky, doesn't offer a contrary opinion when the foreman states it was a "...temper'd and spirited misunderstanding." He adds, "There was some bloody-handed work at one of the Company villages and they were gettin' to the bottom of it, Sergeant."
The Guard leader nods to the foreman, notes the wobbly bureaucrat, and scowls at our heroes beneath bushy brows... taking in their carriage as well as their clothing. He waves his truncheon in the comrades general direction.
"I'm assumin' you got yur answers then? Meanin'... I better not be hearin' 'bout anymore 'spirited' talks 'twixt you and nobody else. We don't need no more troublemakers than we a'ready got. Best to mind your tempers. Now, I'll be taking your names and where yur staying to make sure as I don't hear your names again..."
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Ushari glances over at her companions before she responds to the Guard leader, her voice polite, with a tinge of coolness she does not bother to hide.
"Ushari Velnokal...My companions and I are staying at the Old Fish Inn, should you wish to see us. Now if you will excuse us..."
Jofram suppresses a wince, as Ushari gives her real name. Maybe that will suffice. I hope I'm not wanted for something, in these parts. I don't think I've been here before, but then again, where have I [i]ever been.
Dismissing thoughts of lost memories, the half-elf moves to follow Ushari from the room.
Jayse looks over and shrugs at Straehan at the responses from Ushari and Jofram. Even a little bit of asking around will give these people our names… no real reason to try to keep that hidden, he thinks as he looks the guards over.
Jayse tries to get the measure of the men in front of him, while at the same time trying to get a gut-level read on the leader of the guards.
Jayse sighs as he waves off his two friends, "I hope you'll forgive us. This whole bad business has really stretched some of us thin. I'm Jayse and this is Strae. We're not looking to make any trouble."
Ushari's breezy tone garners several raised eyebrows from the assembled crowd, a few people unconsciously step back, and the Watchmen move to alert stances though none touch their weapons.
Jayse takes in the guards, the longshoremen, and the curious passersby in one slow-motion gestalt as the Sergeant's brow clouds up at Ushari's dismissal and his truncheon rises expertly hovering near her thigh and delicate knee joint...
Jayse sees the Watch's well-used weapons, cautious eyes, comfortable but ready stances in their armor, and the multiple small nicks, scars, and scratches that are a result of long hours of weapons-work... these men are clearly used to combat. They all appear battle-tested, competent, and no-nonsense - the Sergeant most of all.
More importantly, some of the bystanders become as alert as the Watch, their looks conveying distrust and simmering irritation. If it comes down to a fight, it looks like a good number of longshoremen will step in on the side of the Watch. Clearly, there is a dynamic here that the heroes are missing.
In that space between heartbeats, Jayse considers what they know and have seen. This is an island with a fair number of threats - Reavers, humanoid hordes, Giants, Ettins, Undead, etc. There has to be a force to curb those threats. When Thrane in Forestal was concerned about the Reaver and Goblin threats, he requested troops from Orfallen. Having now passed through about 50% of the city, Jayse had not seen one militia man nor a military tabard. But he's seen a good number of City Watchmen. It takes only a moment for the connection to be made. The Watch isn't just a police force, it is a paramilitary organization that defends the isle as well as the city from threats.
These aren't pastry-eating part-timers who can be brow-beaten. They are military police who probably don't take guff from anyone - armed or not - and probably have wide discretionary powers.
Time begins to move at it's normal rate... and the Sergeant's truncheon taps Ushari's thigh lightly, halting her. His statement is matter-of-fact, "You leave when I say so, not before... Miss." The honorific is added as an afterthought.
The truncheon rests lightly against Ushari's leg as if it is an antenna telegraphing her moves to the Sergeant who nods curtly at Jayse's comment to acknowledge it while keeping his dark eyes on Jofram. "I'll have your name, Sir, now or at the House... and we've truthtellers there who'll ask more quest'ns th'n that if you give us a reason to bring you in."
The Sergeant awaits Jofram's answer while he offhandedly considers Jayse's words and the monk's small companion. Something seems to click for him. He eyes the gnome. "Dark hair on a gnome - that's unusual. And staying at the Fish, eh? You been to the Brazen Strumpet, little Sir? It's hard around the corner from the Fish. You must have seen it."
Straehan plays it straight. "I've been there once or twice. Good bar. Pretty girls."
The Sergeant nods, "That they are... chatty too. You ever had a reason to chat'em up?"
Straehan gives him a smile. "What kind of reason does any man need to talk up a pretty woman? But, yes, I did have occasion to talk to one of the girls there."
The Sergeant's gaze becomes a little more direct, "And while there, chattin' up a young lovely, did you 'have occasion' to Glitterdust folks in the middle of a fight?"
The gnome inwardly deflates. He'd hoped the conversation wasn't heading in this direction. While Straehan has never found honesty the best policy, he nevertheless rolls with it. "Well, you'd be generous calling it a fight. I was getting stomped and needed a way out. So, yes, I blinded my attackers and unfortunately caught a few extra people besides. I regret that."
The Sergeant gives a grim smile of satisfaction, "Yeah, the enquiry fell out that way. Don't matter though - we can't have spell-slingers downing civilians willy-nilly... The official speculatin' is you coulda dropped those boys permanently since you had the means ta glitter them. Is that the right of it?"
Straehan considers the answer for a heartbeat while the guards watch him very keenly. "If I didn't mind possibly killing a roomful of innocents and setting the building on fire... yes, I could have done them some serious harm." He sighs and asks the obvious. "So, I gather I'm under arrest. Is there a fine or gaol-time or what?"
"Jofram," the ranger says, returning the sergeant's question with a flat glare.
When Ushari feels the wooden object touch her body, the look in her eyes could freeze a molten pool of lava. She turns to face the Sergeant and again resists the urge to gouge out the man's eyeballs.
I'll bet he really likes to use that club...frequently.
She takes a breath, trying to combat her growing irritation, while trying not let the situation deteriorate further.
"So, are we ALSO under arrest, Sergeant? Or does this apply to Straehan only?"
Straehan notes the icy glares of his young comrades, looks that don't escape the notice of the Watch or some of the longshoremen. The implicit challenge in the looks, ratchets up the tension. Not for the first time, the older gnome silently curses youthful pride - on both sides.
This is about to go sideways for no good reason.
He makes an 'ease off' gesture at Jofram and Ushari and then sets his hands on his hips like a schoolmaster about to deliver a rebuke. His tone is both placating and irritated and is aimed at everyone in range. "Enough! If you want a brawl, take it to a dockside tavern. There has been one 'misunderstanding' today. That's my limit. I'm not going to tolerate ANY more of this foolishness. Now, Sergeant, you may slap manacles on me or whatever the law requires." He offers his wrists, ready to be manacled.
The Sergeant chuckles at the smouldering, child-sized, gnome lecturing an assembly of adult-sized people. "Arrest you, why? The Strumpet's owner filed a Complaint not a Warrant. The men you tussled with couldn't be found and didn't report it. What with the exten'ating circumstances and since no one but you was really hurt, you are gettin' a pass. But be careful how you throw magic about. If we get more Complaints, you could find yourself under Warrant. I'd suggest you go apologize to those girls at the Strumpet. It's better if the owner lifts the Complaint rather than have it hangin' over you. My boys don't need to be memorizing any flyers that have us looking for a dark-haired gnome arcanist answerin' to Straehn. We have real criminals to catch."
He retracts his truncheon from Ushari and waves it casually up the road, "You can all go about your business."
"I don't know about the rest of you, but I could use a drink."
Ushari watches the Watch guards depart with a flat look on her face.
Sure they think they are tough, but I wonder how they would fare against the Dweller...
"Yes, Jofram, I think a drink sounds wonderful!"
Jayse can only shake his head at how all that unfolded. Guess that could have gone far worse.
At the mention of a drink, Jayse can't help but give Strae a nudge, "I don't know. I'm not sure I want to contribute to Drunky McBrawler's habit. I'm thinking the Watch might not go so easy on a double-offender."
Jayse thinks aloud as they walk, his voice pitched low for just his friends, "Im waiting to see the belt before going to pick up potions, so I'm not sure what else we should be looking to accomplish there. We're still waiting to hear from Bitiborium, though shouldn't we be looking for oak trees for Isolde? Maybe Biti can help us with that as well? And we need to really go over that note Jofram found with a fine-tooth comb before we decide what to do about it. I'm still unsure if we should consider the lead dead at the Consortium or not. I mean, surely that note was meant for someone, but even if it was, I'm not sure that it's connected to Dinwat's other activities. Meaning his Consortium contact might not be a bad person... just some kind of treasure hunter." He looks over at Ushari and Straehan as the qualified 'researchers', "The only additional thing I can think of that we'll want to accomplish is further research into Shaudran relics and ruins. Being equipped when we're called upon by... our benefactress might be the difference between success and death."
Ushari considers Jayse's words then nods in agreement, "Don't forget about this mysterious person 'L.C.' that Dinwat referred to in that other letter. I wonder if Kilcrist could be of assistance... Other than that, it sounds like a good plan of attack, Jayse."
"Probably the best bet. You think she's worth scaring up, though? I mean, we know she's some kind of arcanist, and we know she's some kind of colleague of Dinwat, but I"m not sure I want to go on a crusade against every possibly-evil arcanist we come across. Seems like a good way to end up fried and looted." He shrugs, "I'm not saying we shouldn't. I just don't know what it will actually accomplish."
At the mention of a drink, Jayse can't help but give Strae a nudge, "I don't know. I'm not sure I want to contribute to Drunky McBrawler's habit. I'm thinking the Watch might not go so easy on a double-offender."
The piqued gnome pshaws, "It was one time! Besides, you missed the entire subtext to the Sergeant's comments..." He gives the far taller monk a wink, "...those boys were probably going to offer me a job. We're talking management fast track, signing bonus, hot and cold running women... the whole pie. Colonel Straehan of the Orfallen Watch has a nice ring to it."
You wander back towards the Merchant Quarter with the gnome sauntering a bit, embracing his new and imaginary employment.
"I think you've known me long enough to know I don't do subtext."
The gnome laughs, "Unless 'Subtext' is some charming wench's working name."
"Probably the best bet. You think she's worth scaring up, though? I mean, we know she's some kind of arcanist, and we know she's some kind of colleague of Dinwat, but I"m not sure I want to go on a crusade against every possibly-evil arcanist we come across. Seems like a good way to end up fried and looted." He shrugs, "I'm not saying we shouldn't. I just don't know what it will actually accomplish."
Ushari nods, "Yeah, it is risky trying to track down a powerful arcanist, but it would be nice to know if Dinwat was actually working alone here. I shudder to think if others were aware of that ritual to summon the Dweller. Still, we do not have much to go on here."
Jayse can't help but bark a laugh, "I can just picture that conversation now. Hey, L.C. Can I call you L.C.? You know your friend? The shadow-summoning, child-killing necromancer willing to sacrifice a small town for his dark purposes? You weren't by any chance a part of his evil machinations, were you?"
Ushari's eyes gleam an icy blue, "Who said there would be any words spoken?"
Jayse can't help himself. "Gonna sleep your way through that situation, too? And it worked so well back at the Consortium!"
Ushari retorts, "Hah! That fat slob? Definitely not my type! As for L.C., I would allow you first crack at her!"
Jayse's face darkens, "I think we've already established I hate mages. Well, except our boy Straehan."
Straehan shoots a glance at the monk in response, "I'm not a fan of the magely-sort either. Thankfully, I'm a charming arcanist."
Ushari snickers at the monk, "I was hoping you would say that! Hopefully the only body parts used are your hands and feet!"