Greta moves forward, enveloping Brinya in a bear's hug. She holds her while she sobs and strokes her hair. "There, there, let it out now. No harm in feeling what you feel, my dear."
"Rodrik was a good man an' a true defender of Trunau, Miss Brinya. We're very sorry for your loss," Drosk says to Brinya.
"We found this in the Plague House," Drosk adds, retrieving Rodrik's engraved hopeknife. "We thought you should have it," he says, handing it to the half-orc woman.
Bormann, generally distrustful of orcs and their half-orc kin, hangs back and observes the exchange. As he does so, he casually scans about the room as well. Brinya may have been Rodrik's lover, but lovers have been known to murder...
Not the most emotional nor the most empathic Kurag still tries to relay his condolences. Rodrik was the best man I ever met. He gave me a second chance and the guidance I needed at a tough time. He may be gone there are those of us that will remember him. I will not forget what he did for me. I am sorry Brinya.
He hangs back though and lets Greta do the hugging.
When Drosk hands the weeping half-orc the blade she gives him an extremely grateful look. Oh! My hopeknife that I gave to Rodrik! He had lost it while investigating something at the Plague House. When he told me he lost it, I was furious and I told him I never wanted to see him again until he either found it or made things right. Seems like such a silly argument now... her voice trails off.
After Kurag compliments Rodrik, Brinya says, He thought very highly of you as well. That is why he didn't mind entrusting you to solo scouting missions. He would always say, 'Two things I can count on at the end of the day-Omast will be drunk and Kurag will come back!'
Not having ever received such praise directly from Rodrik himself Kurag is at a loss as to how to respond. He simply lowers his head in grief and whispers, Thank you, I did not know that. Grief stricken Kurag holds his tongue and silence descends upon him for a few minutes before he looks up at Brinya, fire in his eyes. I will avenge his death Brinya. You can count on that. If it is discovered that more are involved I promise you I will not rest until they have fallen.
"Did Rodrik ever give ye any hint of what he was investigatin' at the Plague House?" Drosk asks Brinya.
He just mentioned seeing something he called a flood troll there and he kept going back hoping to catch the troll there.
Bormann snorts in agreement. "Aye, there was a flood troll there after all. We killed him rather than caught him, though we caught his fellow. How well do you know of a half-orc named Daktani?"
"Or Sara Morninghawk's apprentice, Urnsul? Does the name 'Skreed' mean anything to ye?" Drosk adds to Bormann's questioning.
Greta continues to hold the woman as she answers questions, trying to lend support to her.
Brinya scowls at the name Daktani. I've heard nothing good. He believes that us half-orcs are mistreated by the humans of the town and that something should be done to put them in their place. Is there a lot of prejudice in Trunau? Sure. Rodrik and I found that out from his father, but it is not as bad as Daktani and his ilk make it out to be.
She looks puzzled, Urnsul, Urnsul...I can't say that I know Urnsul, but Sara Morninghawk is a fine craftswoman.
She looks at Greta and mouths a silent Thanks!
"His ilk? Does Daktani have friends who feel the same way he does? If Daktani is possibly involved in Rodrik's murder, close associates of his may be as well. That may bear investigation."
Kurag quickly tries to remember Daktani and any associates he may have had as Brinya talks.
know local
There will always be prejudice here until people figure out that it is a worthless endeavor and start talking to people. You're right though. Most people here are good people. there are just some rotten apples that get the rest of the bunch riled up.
Brinya dabs her eyes. Unfortunately his rants did not find unsympathetic ears, but there is a big difference than sympathizing and murdering my Rodrik. With that she begins to sob again.
"We found a signet ring in Daktani's possession. This was the symbol on it," Drosk says, sketching out the symbol that was on the signet ring for Brinya to see. "Do ye happen to recognize this symbol?" he asks.
She looks at the ring. No, it is nothing that I recognize. Oh! I wish I could be more help! She begins to sob uncontrollably.
Don't worry yourself at all about it Brinya. You have done enough and we will see to the rest of it. Perhaps some tea will help you relax until this is over. Kurag looks to Greta wondering if she is able to fix some tea as Kurag is not one that is a tea drinker himself. Give him an ale or dwarven stout if he has the choice.
Were she a dwarf, Bormann might have told Brinya that she needed to harness and channel her grief into a weapon to be used against her enemies... but as she is not, he keeps any hints of that secret to himself. Instead, he speaks in a low tone to Kurag, "Some merchant guildsman probably knows it. Maybe Sargent Frum knows. We can track him down next."
Kurag nods to Bormann yes, Once we are finished here I will take you to him next.
You leave Brinya as she continues to sob and is starting to get ready for the funeral. Kurag takes you in the direction where he knows Sargent Frum to be when Bormann, Drosk and Gnok see a familiar face coming at them at an intercept course.
A dwarf, tall enough to pass for a human, were it not for the fact that he is as broad and muscular as any dwarf, trudges down the street.
Dressed in a solid suit of banded mail, emblazoned on the front with a large depiction of Torag's holy symbol, he resembles nothing so much as a mobile bulwark. Across his back rest two weapons - a well-crafted silver warhammer, and an equally well-crafted iron battleaxe.
His most striking feature, however, is his long, bushy beard, which is a fiery red color that reminds viewers of a cascade of living flame, tamed into a series of plaits, separated by iron beard-rings emblazoned with glowing Dwarven runes.
When he sees the party, his eyes light up, and he lets out a booming laugh which echoes off the nearby buildings.
"Bormann! Drosk! Gnok! I was wondering when I would catch up with you lot. What trouble have the three of you managed to get mixed up in without ol' Sergei? You'll have to tell me all about it, over a pint..."
"If it is trouble, it is not of our creation for a change, Sergei. A popular leader in the local guards was murdered and his kin set us the task of finding the killer if we could. They're hoping to rely on our objectivity as outsiders. We're hoping that succeeding at doing so will make our mission here a success."
"Ah," Sergei frowns. "That 'twas not what I was expecting... That is serious! What leads have you discovered thus far?"
"Ho there, Sergei! It's good to see ye!" Drosk greets the newcomer dwarf. "So far we've uncovered a conspiracy of some sort between some half-orcs an' at least one flood troll. The murdered militia captain, Rodrik Grath, had been investigatin' them as well. We slew the flood troll an' captured one of the half-orcs - the new militia captain, Kurst Grath, has tried to interrogate him but he's not talkin' except to say that he's goin' to be free soon."
"There's also a mysterious human skulkin' about," Drosk adds. "He checked out of the inn early the same mornin' that Rodrik was found murdered there. The human left behind a note at the inn sayin' that Rodrik had been snoopin' around but that he wouldn't be a threat for much longer. So far we haven't found any other sign of this mysterious human around town."
"Good to see you, too, Drosk! Hmmm... This sounds serious. Any further leads to follow up on, or do we need to start leaning... heavily... on the half-orc?"
Greta steps forward. "Sergei, is it? Welcome to Trunau, though I wish it was on happier terms. I'm Greta Bolkasdottir." She smiles and does a slight curtsy.
"Greta's a fine healer, Sergei. And, as a local, she knows the people we have the unfortunate job of questioning when they're in mourning."
Bormann expresses his concerns, "I do hope that our investigation doesn't harm any of your families and friendships, Greta. So far we've been fairly gentle, but we may need to press harder in some quarters."
"And this last stalwart with us is Kurag Urlot, third to bear that name. He also is from Trunau and knew the deceased man."
"Relationships can be mended and if we err on the side of justice, no one of good conscience will hold it against us."
At the introduction Kurag steps up and gives the man's hand a shake. More dwarves are always a welcome experience but sadly now is not the time to welcome ya properly. Perhaps tomorrow after the funeral and the investigation is over we ca all grab a drink and toast each other's good fortune then. Until then though welcome to Trunau.
Kurag leads you to where you see a man who is unsteadily trying to paint over graffiti while taking sips from a flask.
There was a pretty bird sitting in a tree!
Oh! Won't you sing a pretty song for me!
He sings as he slops fresh paint on the wall.
Oh! Kurag! Are ya here to help me paint? Oh! And it looks like ya brought friends! Uhhh...I don't think I have enough pain..hic..paint brushes BURP though.
Bormann leans in to ask Kurag a quiet question. "Drunk on duty? Kurag, is this a reliable man?
Bormann also looks about the scene. Is there some particular subject for the graffiti?
know local if needed to answer Bormann.
Kurag gets a disgusted look on his face as he sees the man had been drinking. Yes these are acquaintances of mine. However I am more concerned about your condition right now than anything else. When did you start drinking today soldier? If I recall there is to be no drinking while on duty. I would suggest you sober up quickly before the funeral tonight so no one else sees you like this.
Soldier? I outrank you and don't you forget it! He then tries to throw a clumsy punch in Kurag's direction, but all it does is throw him off balance and he sprawls to the ground spilling his soapy bucket of water. he sits up resignedly. What difference does it make who sees me like this-HE SEES ME. He has haunted my dreams saying the same thing over and over again. 'Why didn't you protect me?' I says to him, 'Who did this to ye, boy?' but he just keeps saying over and over again, 'Why didn't you protect me?' He shudders and starts feeling his pockets. Now where is my flask?
Greta sighs deeply, her heart hurt by seeing a good man in pain. "Omast. Rodrik's death wasn't your fault. It was the work of someone vile, who murdered him and made it look like he killed himself. We're on the trail of this murderer, but we need your help. We need you sober enough to speak."
Pity and disgust fight within Kurag as he sees what Omast has resorted to. Yes I called you soldier and know that you outrank me. However I also know that you are better than this and can handle it. Yes, Rodrik's deaths was tragic but it wasn't your fault. If you want to prove that to yourself and others then do something about it rather than drink. You are a good man otherwise you would not have been in charge of raising and protecting them. Now get up and show the shade of Rodrik that you are protecting his momory by getting a hold of yourself.
Omast looks at Greta balefully, Yeah, I heard you and Kurag here brought in a stinkin' half-orc! If I would have found him, the only thing I would have brought in was his carcass! I would have expected better from two Trunauans. Maybe if Rodrik hadn't become friends with that...that Katrezra, he would still be alive! Katrezra! That stupid crippled oaf who lounges in the Sanctuary’s beds spouting curses and lies of prophetic dreams. It was one of his stupid dreams that led that poor, young Rodrik, that magnificent bastard to the Plague House. Katrezra was probably setting him up for his half-orc friend! If I had my way once Katrezra is found, he can share a cell with his filthy buddy! Omast spits in disgust.
When he hears the rebuke from Kurag he rises unsteadily to his feet. He looks like he is about to fall again but somehow keeps his footing. As for you, Kurag, It seems like it is up to me to show you how to deal with the stinkin' half-orcs! I never thought I would have to say that to a dwarf! He kicks over his spilled bucket. Bah! Stupid graffiti isn't coming off anyway! First we have all these new, stinkin' half-orcs running around and now we have these white swords painted all over the place. Dang things won't come out!
""New, stinking half-orcs?" There is a group of new half-orcs in town? Ones not integrated into the tight-knit community?" He adds under his breath, "... as odd as that sounds to my dwarven ears."
"And did these swords start appearing shortly thereafter?"
Greta looks at Omast reproachfully. "And bringing a dead body back helps vindicate Rodrik how? Dead he's another carcass. Alive he can be questioned and examined. Really Omast Frum, I expect better of you! What would Rodrik think if he could see you in such a state now?" Greta assumes a square stance, her fists on her hips and a stern reproachful look on her face.
Sergei watches Omast's outburst stoically, before quietly asking the others:
"Is this normal behaviour for him?"
He ponders for a moment, before continuing:
"Perhaps we should have a chat with this new group, if only to smooth ruffled feathers?"
Puzzeled at the response he got Kurag changes tact slightly. Omast, what is bothering you? We have gotten along before and we both have benefitted from being friends with Rodrik. We both are suffering from his passing but we are better than this. Now please tell me what is bothering you and don't blame halforc a at this time. Rodrik taught us to accept others for who they were based on their individuality. Stereotypes are there for a reason but individuals are exceptions. Rodrik was engaged to a halforc. Surely she is not a problem. Who are these other halforcs that you are referring to? Also I did not know that Katreza was missing.
Sergei watches Omast's outburst stoically, before quietly asking the others:
"Is this normal behaviour for him?"
"This is the first time we've met him, although we heard he had a bit of a problem with the drink... Drosk whispers in response to Sergei.
"Also I did not know that Katreza was missing."
At the mention of Katrezra, Drosk glances quickly toward Bormann and Greta but refrains from mentioning that the group previously met the blind seer for fear of further antagonizing the drunk guardsman.
Omast turns to Bormann quizzically, Why..uh..now that you mention it, they did start appearing then and I haven't seen anymore since they checked out of Cham's!
Omast tries to stand tall to the female dwarf, but even he cannot withstand her withering stare and sheepishly lowers his eyes. Apologies, Greta. is all he can mutter.
Omast is rocked back on his heels when Kurag tells him that Rodrik was engaged to a half-orc. Wha..Engaged you say? To a..a..stinkin' half-orc! Surley you must be trying to confuse me? Never would he...I would know if he had done such a thing...I..uh...uh..It must be all Katrezra's doing! He must have casted some spell on him!
Kurag stands up straight as Omast is ignoring the truth before him. Omast, snap out of it. rodrik was a man who could see beyond race. He took me in when I first arrived and helped me. He looked beyond the fact that I was a dwarf and different than my typical kin. He could do the same for anyone.
Now as to the marriage, we found no duplicity in talking to Brinya. Is it so inconceivable to believe that Rodrik accepted her for herself? Now if you want to help Rodrik's memory and remove the shade that haunts you come with us and help us find those responsible for his death. Help us find the half orcs that left recently. Help us find Katrezra. You helped me before, help me again.
Omast turns to Bormann quizzically, Why..uh..now that you mention it, they did start appearing then and I haven't seen anymore since they checked out of Cham's!
Drosk's brow furrows at Omast's words as the dwarf struggles to remember the various places around town that he's seen the strange white swords painted.
Bormann avoids getting entangled in a conversation about the merits of racial harmony and takes a look at the paint that won't come off the wall. He draws his dagger and tries to flake a bit of it off.