"Yeah, Rekkart can check then. Maybe he has a better answer to gnome with knife problem"
Watching the spectacle unfold Ragnvald is caught between laughter and disgust. He did not think the gnome would do such a thing.
He answers Jezbazeel.
"Ask the paladin. He's so happy to speak on the reputations of others. Let's not search all the cells. The only one that may be important is the one Mord was held in."
Sir Rekkart: Ebin was a weak coward, but he should have been brought before a court...I mean ummm...
Killian: Oh yeah, the ever reliable courts of Absalom!
Sir Rekkart: Shut up, let's investigate the cell of Mord, like Ragnvald said.
The investigation of Mord's holding cell unearthes that someone carved a message into the wooden pallet:
I have served as an angel of justice my entire life. I shall have mine. Even if it be in death, justice shall be mine. Sveth, my only friend, you will find this when you clean the cell. You are my avenging angel now. Bring those liard and fools back to me after I swing, so that I might have my justice. Fifteen years to the day. When the true murderer of my beloved Malene and boy Gabe swings from my gallows as I did, on the fifteenth anniversary of my hanging, then at long last I shall be free.
"Oh... so there it is. What all this is about. We work out whodunnit, give them a big stretchy stretchy and all is forgived and forgot. So who is Sveth?"
"Oh... so there it is. What all this is about. We work out whodunnit, give them a big stretchy stretchy and all is forgived and forgot. So who is Sveth?"
"I concur with the ogre. Who was Sveth? And how badly do I want to maim him for bringin me to this place..."
Sir Rekkart: Sveath? Never heard that name...but surely some kind of criminal.
Patrissa: He must've poisoned and abducted us!
Halgrak: Maybe he is still hiding in the court-building?
Killian: And enjoys watching us...
"Sir Rekkart I imagine an executioner knows a lot of criminals...right before sending them to their graves."
Sense Motive
Sir Rekkart: I mean...what I just meant is...why should a lawful citizen of Absalom help a monster in taking revenge? Iomedae wouldn't allow that!
Jez begins to pick at something in her teeth.
Did any of you actually read or listen to this note? He was supposed to clean the cell. Obviously he was some sort of cleaner or maintenance person at the courthouse. As such he would have know Mort as well as the judges.
I turn and stare at Sir Rekkart. Irrespective of whether the judges were lawful or corrupt.
It sounds like Mort and this Sveth were friends and that a plan was hatched.
My guess is that Mort or Sveth are killing people in a manner reminiscent of the wrong each one brought upon Mort. Apparently Malgrim killed Mort's wife and child with Mort's own axe. Thus, Malgrim was killed with his own weapon, the chain. My guess is that the gnome cut Mort with his tongue, therefore, his fate was to have his tongue cut out.
Turning to the four jurors. So, the question is As this is going to be your fate and manner of destruction in a very short time. Tell us and perhaps we can find a solution. Continue to jerk us around, and I bet Mort will jerk you around, by the neck, from the roof, with a chain.
Sir Rekkart: That's ridiculous, never have I wronged someone in my whole life.
Killian: I'm often drunk, so who knows.
Halgrak: I voted against him even though I didn't know he was guilty, that is my crime.
Patrissa: I was just convinced he must be evil because everyone else was, really.
Sir Rekkart: And why should have Malgrim killed Mord's wife? I can't believe that.
I look at Rekkart. You may not have knowingly wronged him. But clearly you have a very pissed off dead man who thinks that you did. You made fast and rash decisions based upon very limited evidence. What would Iomaede say about that. I do not think that she instructs you to follow the rule of law without a though of the consequences - that is what Asmodeus' followers adhere to.
If I had to guess, your wrong was being so stubborn and close minded that you never looked at the evidence with a critical eye. You made your mind up and then once there was sufficient evidence to support your point of view, you convinced everyone else to vote with you. After all - - right?
"Easy." Ragnvald says as he looks over the note and heads out the door. "At this point everyone's wronged him in the same way. And Malgrim didn't kill them."
Sir Rekkart shakes his head and sighs, then he follows Ragnvald and asks him
You have a clear mind my friend, what should be our next step?
I turn and raise my blue eyebrows at Mobo. What did you say? What do you mean eleven drag marks?
I turn and raise my blue eyebrows at Mobo. What did you say? What do you mean eleven drag marks?
"That someone walked or floated into the room." Ragnvald says plainly. "And then sat down in a chair to wait."
I carefully look where Mobo is pointing.
Wow, there is a benefit to being small. That is some amazing detective work Mobo.
Can we follow the tracks into the courtroom? Is there any sign as to which seat each person was dragged to?
Ok, assuming for a minute that no tongue and roof hanger did not come here to commit suicide, there are four original jurors here and six people related to missing jurors. My vote is for Attalas to pick up the four jurors one by one by their ankles and then spin them around and toss them into a wall. Eventually we will get an admission or have a fun time shutting you four up. So, who is first on the Attalas merry-go-round.
Or the six of us could just sit here in these chairs and wait for the four of you to wander off and get killed one by one. Eventually we will get the answer.
Sir Rekkart: One of us? Ridiculous again!
Halgrak: Mhhhm...
Patrissa: Oh Attalas, can we trust the goblin?
"So eleven was dragged and one walked, that's pretty odd. Reckon then the Goblin is right and there's a dirty fibber after all. Whilst thats important, it still doesn't say whodunnit, but reckon there's a few people who knows more than they are saying, and perhaps if they wanna be living they best start talking"
"Of course we can trust the Goblin, dear Patrissa..."
He looks at her again with a slightly leery look "...my precious"
Patrissa smiles seductively and purrs
Well Attalas, I guess we have to find how strong you really are later...
Sir Rekkart: The old paladin just glares at Attalas and whispers to Ragnvald
[b]I heard that they slay monster like ogres, trolls and giants in your homeland...we should keep an eye on Attalas. The black blood of his race is strong in his veins, I bet.
"You still standing there doing not much then Rekkart, very well, me not scared and will keep looking for clues"
"Pally man he talks and puffs
but Pally man don't look for stuffs
He stands and talks and talks and talks
while coming to kills us Mordy walks
He doesn't go and look for clues
Because he thinks his life he'll lose
Rekkarts too scared to do his job
So Mordy'll kill the lazy slob"
Attalas shakes his head at the Paladin who is apparently too busy standing about talking, and walks to the door in the South corner of the prisons.
He tries the door handle, and if that doesn't work, sets to simply smashing the door in.
Stretchy stretchy is no sin;
It will make tin man thin;
Grab his arms and grab his legs;
Pull until he talks and begs;
Instead its just complain and moan;
Which makes the rest groan;
The tin man is blind;
And not very kind;
When Mort comes to take him down;
None of us will be roun';
Tin man will go squish squish;
And become food for fish.
I ignore Rekkart and follow Attalas.
Sir Rekkart who notices your bantering, drags past Attalas once he has opened the door, showing some courage.
But he doesn't go far into the room which is full of brutal machines made to coax confessions from the accused ones. A flaying rack rests in one corner, an iron maiden against one wall, a restraining chair adorned with all manner of crushing vices and punishing screws sits like a throne at the chamber's centre. A rack on the wall bears rusted implements of persuasion: pulling tongs, pliers, eight-inch spikes and an array of rusty needle and scalpels.
Sir Rekkart: Oh....Iomedae does not support torture...ummm.
But Sir Rekkart, you keep telling us that the judge was good and honest. Perhaps he didn't know about this room full of torture implements which was just around the corner from his courtroom.
I am sure that the result of the trial was correct and Mort and his buddy systematically attempting to brutally kill all the former jurors is but a misunderstanding. Why don't we just close this door and leave you in here so that you can contemplate the justness of the speedy verdict following an abbreviated trial and your pushing others to agree upon sentencing Mort to death.
Perform(sarcasm):
I turn and begin to head toward the door.
Curious, Ragnvald explores the room in more detail. "Tell me Sir Rekkart did you know the prosecutor to have ever lost a trial?"
Iomedae beware, Alastir Wade never lost a case, he....oh...you mean he...
Sir Rekkart looks to the horrific machinations and furrows his brows.
Ragnvald picks up a choice rusty implement of pain and smiles wickedly in his direction. "I mean nothing. Though I wonder who it was that extracted the confessions and false witness here?"
Although I disagree with choices made on all sides, I will not allow this kind of insanity! Nymeria says, stepping in front of the questionable paladin. Let us leave this room and explore elsewhere, it seems that we are gathering valuable evidence...
"Hmmm. Not sure about playing whacky hammer. Just check the room for any more clues, I'm going to go boot another door in"
The Ogre ambles back up the hall and kicks in the door of the room he walked by on his way to the cells.
Attalas opens the next door: Gloom reins here and the room scorns light. An unnatural cold pervades this place cutting right through cloth and flesh. A raised gallows with a noose hanging from its crossbeam stands sentinel in this room where hundreds of souls died with either a quick snap of the neck or jerking freakishly. The air in this dark chamber is absolutely still and unusually cold. The silence suddenly breaks when a single creak echoes from the rickety stairs of the gallows. Another follows and dust shakes from the steps as a figure comes into view. His hands are bound before him and he lurches with a palsied gait as he comes. His head is shrouded with a black bag, hanging impossibly at a right angle off his mangled neck. A sound like an old door hinge or leather dragged over wood curdles from his shredded throat and he reaches for you with arched fingers curled into white claws.
Patrissa: The beauty staggers back and stammers It's him, it's Mord!
Again you find yourself swinging on the end of a rope as a crowd of onlookers cheers and jeers. Their heartless laughter washes over you and leaves you drowning in a sea of hate, as you desperately try to draw breath with lungs that no longer work. As darkness washes over you, you notice a man in particular smiling at you with a satisfied expression. He is a handsome young man with blonde locks and piercing blue eyes, and he fingers a long thin scar, freshly healed, on his lower left cheek.
Attalas realises that a toe to toe confrontation is probably a bad idea with a ghost, and backs up westward...
"I never did nothing Mordy!"
I do not think that he is going to be as concerned about stretchy stretchy as the rest of the jurors. Lets move back and think about this.
Gasping for air and grabbing at his throat Ragnvald sputters and coughs he stumbles back from the doorway and away from the monster as he gives a raspy roar. "I'll...kill ...you!"
Knowledge, Arcana:
I, too am innocent! Back, creature of darkness! Seek those who have wronged you, or tell us your issue with us! Nymeria says, raising her hands in a swirling motion as flame begins to gather in her palms.
I suppose we should stop him from choking himself. After Malgrim hung himself and the gnome cut his tongue out, we might want to stop the northman from doing the same.
Looking back at the Mord.
Actually all, he is kicking up dust, so we should be able to hit him.
I draw my sword, but move back with the others to see what the apparition does.
As you all stumble out of the room, Mord follows only to the door. Then he grabs the handle and pulls it violently shut - the whole while laughing maliciously with his raspy voice.
Sir Rekkart just reaches the scene as the door closes and he asks
What's happened? What is the commotion about? If ound something inside the iron maiden!
Mysteriously the knight is gone;
When we meet the Mord spawn;
Then he arrives with great news;
Found while out of our views;
The Iron Maiden searched he did;
Inside was found something hid;
Two Minutes to Midnight we are getting close;
Time to Run to the Hills I suppose.
If we are not Running Free soon;
Beneath The Number of the Beast we will swoon.
"What did you find?"
Sputtering Ragnvald comes to his senses. "That was...unpleasant."
Then turning his gaze he narrowed his eyes at killian. "Blonde man. Fresh scar on his cheek when Mord was hanged. Who was he?"
"What did you find?"
Looking at Ragnvald:
What blonde man?
Whew! Nymeria sighs as the spirit shuts the door.
Well, that must mean it recognizes me as innocent! And maybe you others too... even if you are all bloodthirsty maniacs!
She walks back to the room with the iron maiden and Rekkart.
...or maybe it means that we aren't supposed to go hanging anybody...yet... she says, looking back and forth between the rhymers and the jurors.
We'll deal with things one at a time! Now tell me, Ser Rekkart, what did you find? she asks sweetly.