You sift through his possessions. Besides the black robes with similar fecal staining on the bottom hem, you find a small pouch with various spell components, including a few small leathery wings. With very little on him and no evidence of a featherfall token you're not sure he was intending to survive the fall.
As you handle the robes you feel something jagged from inside. You find a small hidden pocket filled with several broken vials. Most of the liquid from these has soaked through, but one holds a bit of an iridescent green pooled at the bottom.
You don't recognize the liquid, but the smell is potent and leaves you a little light headed.
Walking over to the guard, the Inquisitor nods in greeting "Excuse me sir, I have been asked to come investigate this crash site by members of House Phiarlan. Would it be alright if I entered?"
After getting the room, he makes sure to check the door, propping a chair up underneath just in case. A quick spell on the bed to hopefully clean it as best able before sitting down to rest for the evening.
You choke the stew down and head up another split staircase to a cramped hallway. The music fades as you climb. Your room is sparse and functional, a shuttered window overlooks the street below. You secure the room and settle in for the night.
The blond figure climbs up the short stairway to Pelo's Hideaway. The stairs are split down the middle between normal steps and a set of doubled stairs sized for smaller feet.
The guard suddenly straightens up. "Yes, please. The lead investigator is Lantern Toliver. I'm sure he can get you up to speed quickly." He points toward the arguing half-orc and half-elf.
The young man offers a slight bow "Thank you very much" and walks over a bit slowly towards the arguing pair.
You wake in the middle of the night to your door rattling. There are muffled voices outside.
"...meeting in Harrow's room..."
"Jhon's next door..."
"Then who...?"
"...idiot..."
"...we had all...rooms...?"
"...not...one...he still sleeping?"
Then silence.
Nadeem raises an eyebrow. "That's because it's become a plague in Sharn. I wouldn't be surprised if it reaches Karrnath soon, if it hasn't already."
"Dreamlily," the halfling says. He removes a thin metal rod from his instruments on the table and waves it over the body. It begins glowing a soft blue light. "I hadn't bothered doing a scan for poisons, since the cause of death was readily apparent."
"Yes, there is something foreign in his body." The halfling leans in to sniff the mangled face and pulls back in disgust. "No doubt the narcotic in question."
The halfling eyes you then begins pacing, his hands clasped behind his back, almost as if he's a college professor lecturing to a class. "Elixir of the Sarlonan dreamlily dulls the senses. Though a great painkiller, it makes the mind weak and pliant and is extremely addictive."
Nadeem chimes in. "We used it in the Last War until soldiers started getting hooked on it. Now it's gone underground. And being refined into Absentia, which I've seen firsthand knock out a dwarf for a good hour."
Nadeem takes a whiff of the green liquid. "This stuff here is probably mid grade. Still pretty potent."
Although it seemed like a longshot, Kaern knew there was much that was capable through magic that was outside his field of understanding and it never hurt to ask.
Pulling his hood over his face a bit, Syn steps carefully into Pelo's Hideaway, a bit anxious and wary of lies inside...
Nadeem folds his arms in thought. "Not off hand. We could probably get a hold of a House Tharashk divining rod which would pick up something similar within 400ft or so.
"If you're looking for Dreamlily production, the lower wards is where I'd start, and since this is an import Cliffside or Dura is a good bet. Still a lot of ground to cover. We've got a guy in Dura who keeps his ear to the street. Might be of some help."
"I'll see what I can do about tracking down a divining rod if you think that will help. Lord Sadran also requisitioned you House Jorasco credit and of course we still need to take of your wounds from the fire. Sadran's pulling out all the stops on this one, so anything else you can think of let me know."
He smiles. "I'll make sure to grab a couple featherfall tokens in case you feel the need to take to the skies again."
You pick up part of the conversation as you make your way over. The half-elven woman points toward the larger part of the wreck as her voice raises. "Half our cargo is either missing or unusable. Your king owes House Lyrander quite a bit."
Toliver looks to the side rubbing his forehead in frustration. "And I keep telling you. Talk to someone who's job that is. Mine is to track down the fugitive that your house let go free."
"Security leaks in your prison are hardly our problem," the half-elf says.
"It became your problem the minute he stepped foot on your boat..."
The half-elf cuts him off. "Ship. It's an airship."
"It was international..." Toliver trails off as he notices you approaching. He looks relieved to have an interruption, but surprised to see you. "Can I help you?"
You bide your time outside for awhile then climb up the short stairway to Pelo's Hideaway along the medium sized steps. Inside a dim blue light fills the mostly empty common room. Benches line the sides with a few small sized tables and chairs scattered in between with a couple halfling patrons. There's no sign of the man you were following.
On a squat stage on the far side a halfling perches on a stool hunched over an odd stringed instrument easily twice his size. His eyes flicker toward you from under a wooden mask crudely carved to resemble a dragon. Soft tones fill the room as his fingers dance, tapping along the neck. (Here's an image of the instrument).
You can smell the mixture of odd spices floating in from the back room behind the bar. It seems to all but mask a faint scent of some kind of meat.
A red haired halfling with grayish skin pops her head up from behind the bar. She stares at you with blank milky eyes. "Got no large rooms left. Stew's two silver."
[spoiler=Keeper]
Nul makes a slight bow "Perhaps, hopefully. I've been asked to look into what happened here by a friend, who has some vested interest in the crash."
He looks around, smiling a bit "I'm to also offer my assistance to any who is looking to figure out what happened."
The half-elf eyes you with pensive curiosity. "And who would have more vested interest than House Lyrander? If you're from the Karrnathi embassy, you can tell them we are as outraged as they are. The lax security practices..."
"Excuse me. I should get back to actually working on tracking down the fugitive." Toliver cuts her off then abruptly turns to you. "Let me show you the site and you can tell me a little more about why you're here...and what you can do to help."
The Lyrander half-elf stares pointedly at both of you as Toliver leads you toward the large airship hull. Toliver does his best to ignore her, focusing instead on you.
"You're a welcome distraction. That Lyrander woman has been a thorn in my side all morning. Now who did you say you're representing here?"
Moving to the bar, he nods at the red haired one.
"Aye, I suppose I could eat. What I'm really looking for is information, though. A blonde fellow with a shiny sword came in not to long ago...could you tell me anything about him? I don't have much but I think I could probably part with 5 silvers."
Syn flasher her a smile and sits down slowly, watching to see if she shows any sign of having sight at all.
The redhead halfling plops a rag on the counter and starts to clean.
"Two silvers for the stew. One more to sleep on the floor."
She appears to be moving around as if she could see, though her eyes are completely white and don't seem to move.
Gryn remains as motionless as possible, listening to the words outside the doorway. When things become quiet, he silently reaches for his rapier, one hand on the hilt. He takes a quick inventory of the room, fastest way out, where he could fight and prevent them from flanking. Then he listens.
Nul eyes the Half-Elf back, with a slightly arrogant expression"I work for a variety of Houses, depending on who needs my skills most at a given moment"
Turing to leave with Toliver, he walks with him a ways before replying "I did not mention who I work for, though as I said to the half-elf, I work for several Houses. Currently, that would be Phiarlan. I do however, have a contact and friend in House Tharashk as well, a hunter by the name of Krajasik." He pauses to see if the Half-Orc notices the name.
"As to what I can do to help, well, I've got a pretty keen insight into things, so perhaps that can help. Beyond that, we'll have to see."
You creep up closer to the door and after a moment of silence hear the voices again.
"I don't hear anything."
"Fine, then. We don't want to keep Harrow waiting. He's ready to unleash on someone and it's not going to be me."
The voices start to fade as they head down the hall.
"Complications?"
"Yep, we've got competition. Someone's been asking around about the kid."
You hear someone coming down the stairs from the rooms above. A gravely male voice echoes down.
"Let me get a little more of that stew."
Toliver raises an eyebrow when you mention Phiarlan. "I'm not looking for any other House-related entanglements. But seeing how this investigation needs to go quickly and smoothly...and Krajasik does have a reputation for getting the job done without complications."
He pauses at the edge of the broken hull to let by a train of warforged loaded with debris. "I realize Phiarlan wants to make some coin out of this mess, and I appreciate you approached me uncovertly, but I can't let you in on the inside unless I can count on you to report everything to me first."
The young man gives a small laugh "Seeing as how you're right here, and a House Phiarlan rep is not, I don't think giving you any info I uncover first will be much of an issue"
Papers, please.:
Every legal citizen has identification listing their personal information. Should a person be convicted of a crime, the local watch usually notates the details on the papers. And of course forgeries are possible (10gp).Identification papers are printed on very sturdy vellum, and stored in a pentagonal leather case. Here's an image.
Identification lists the following information
- An image of you
- Name and title
- Occupation (if any)
- Nationality (Breland, Karrnath, etc.)
- Physical description and notable features
- Where you live
All:
Toliver nods. "Fair enough. A fresh set of eyes is always good. Just need to see your identification. It's procedure, you understand. Find me when you're done. I'll mostly likely be outside here."
You can see the various levels above you through the cracked open hull. The elemental binding strut below is splintered and shattered off. The ship rests on the what's left of it, leaning slightly to the side. The remaining binding struts you see are all charred, the ends fading to black ash.
You stare at the back end of the ship, the aft crew quarters and helm tower over you and swoop down to a large cargo hold at ground level ahead of you. The whole wreck tilts into the cracked tower wall.
Gryn waits a moment for the voices to quiet before listening to the door. If nothing is heard, he cracks it open and looks both ways.
You take your time going through the crash site. It seems to have been pretty thoroughly scoured, but you stop as something catches your eye from above.
Staring intently you see a flicker of flame at the end of the elemental strut sticking out from the deck of the ship, a good 50 feet above you. A few minutes later you see it again, then it begins pulsating seemingly in some kind of intelligent pattern and wavers almost like a finger beckoning you closer. None of the workers around you seem to take notice.
A mottled skin hobgoblin tromps down the stairs, an empty wooden bowl in his hands. His warm smile is focused on the red haired halfling behind the bar. He appears a little inebriated. "Got any more stew?"
"Two silver," the halfling says continuing to towel off the bar.
The hobgoblin awkwardly plops his bowl on the counter next to you. "Just put it on the group tab." Leaning one elbow on the counter he sneers back at the masked musician on stage. You see battle scars criss cross the hobgoblin's arms and face.
"Damn Talentas. Music puts you right to sleep, eh?" He nudges your arm with his elbow, his eyes slowly settling to focus on you.
You hear footsteps of the two men head off to your right followed by a door closing. After a few minutes of silence, you slide open your door and peek out down the hallway. It appears to be empty.
You hear a gravely male voice echo up the stairs from below. "Let me get a little more of that stew." The words sound a little drunkenly slurred.
Seeing the oddly flickering flame, the young man attempts to get as close as possible, while still keeping a safe distance. He then casts a minor spell to try and see if whatever he's found is mystical in nature.