Thelladell, Nightal 20, 1373 DR - Midwinter
You've only been in the tiny wood elf village of Thelladell for a couple of days. They have welcomed you with open arms, however, giving you a safe place to stay and tending to your wounds from the running battle with the drow. It's small, but it's built in the same manner as the more ancient would elf cities of this forest, high in the trees, with platforms and small buildings resting on giant branches.
It's a happy village for the usually more stoic wood elves, especially right now. Many of the villagers are followers of Mielikki - a popular deity among wood elves, despite not being a member of the Seldarine - and excitedly prepare for the Fourth Feast tonight. Most of the villagers are dressed in white clothes with green accents, and the crisp morning air is filled with the voices of children and adults alike, singing joyful songs. Even those who worship members of the Seldarine exclusively are nonetheless enjoying the celebration.
Daratris Wisdomancer, the hunter who found you, approaches you as you leave the healer's hut. She's tall and particularly skinny, even for an elf, with long black hair and emerald green eyes. "Did she declare you healthy?"
Aelakoress sits up from where he was resting, running his fingers through wild, green hair which marked him as fae touched. "She did, my wounds were numerous, but most were scratches, cuts and scrapes. Nothing overly serious. Thankfully, their weapons didn't seem poisoned or I would have ended up in a much worst state." He says, rising.
He wore a simple tan tunic and white trousers dark green accents. "Which is odd, as they normally coat all their weapons with knockout poison."
Daratris nods, and gives a small smile, "You're lucky, then. I've never encountered them myself, but I've heard about that poison from the others that have survived them."
Kerubiel, the village elder (though, at somewhere around 500 years old he looks as spry as anybody else) who came to speak with you the day you arrived, practically dances past. When you met him, he didn't even really smile.
Daratris laughs, and says, "This is the only time of year that you'll see that." She looks back to you, and asks, "What are your plans now? I do not think that Gate will take you back home."
He's quiet for several long moments before replying. "Right now, I'm going to enjoy this festival. After that, I suppose I will try and find my place within Thelladell, at least for the time being."
She smiles, and nods, "Then you will be welcome. We could use the extra hands around here."
Considering, she adds, "Perhaps you can join us when we escort Kerubial to the Caerilcarn in a ten-day. It is the meeting of the wood and moon elf settlements in the Forest. It is usually just an exchange of news, but the journey is dangerous."
"I would be honored to accompany you on such an esteemed mission." He replies, giving a small bow. "However, that is not for quite some time. For now, show me how your people celebrate the Fourth Feast!"
She smiles, inclining her head in a nod. She starts to say something more, but then the joyful sounds of the celebrating village are interrupted by a child's scream.
Quickly looking up and around, her face suddenly serious in her concern, Daratris takes a couple of seconds to pinpoint the direction of the sound. "It's coming from the direction of the storage hut, I think." She starts to lead the way.
Grabbing his sword, just in case, Akor follows her. He scans the area, alter for any signs of trouble.
Outside the building there's no sign of trouble, the only people around are the other villagers who have come, concerned, towards the source of the screaming. The screaming itself has stopped now, not cut off but just stopped.
Inside, however, is another story. A young boy, standing now in apparent shock, stands staring at the body of Kerubial. His throat has been cut.
Upon seeing the dead body, the ranger's instincts kick in, and he begins searching for signs of an intruder.
"Somebody comfort and calm the boy, so we can talk to him later." He says matter of factly, as he scans the area.
It's challenging to look for tracks on the solid wooden floor, especially such a well-trafficked one. But there is the slightest of scuff marks of recent siding feet that your trained eyes can detect. You can see where the elder came in with a quick step, perhaps still dancing as you saw him minutes ago. You can see where the child came in, to find him.
However, you see no other sign of movement. If there was anybody else here, their steps had blended into the general wear of all the people who have come and gone for supplies for the celebration. There is also no sign of a struggle.
Kerubiel was an elder but was anything but frail. Like all of his kin, he would have had at least some training. However, whoever did this seems to have caught him completely off guard.
Checking the windows for any sign of entrance, Akor turns to Daratris "There's no other way in, right? No basement with a back door or anything?"
Daratris had, while Akor searched, taking the boy outside and since returned. She shakes her head, staring at the body with a distressed look on her face, but finally looking up again. "No, no other entrance. The only thing below us is a lot of empty air between us and the ground."
The windows show absolutely no signs of anybody trying to climb through them. The windows are designed more for specific airflow (to keep the temperatures cool year-round, to better preserve perishables) than traversing, though a halfling, gnome, goblin, or child could have slipped through them. Still, there is no evidence that anybody has.
"No sign of struggle, nobody seemed to have entered through the windows. I suppose the assassin could have come through the front door, but that seems rather unlikely. Unless it was somebody he knew."
He examines both the room, and the body for any magical auras(constant detect magic) and then kneels down to investigate the death blow.
"No. It can't be anybody he knew. Nobody in this village would've done it. Everybody loves - loved him."
There's a lingering trace of some strong magical effect.
"Is it possible his assailant wasn't from here, yet still known to Kerubiel? What enemies did he have?"
The magic was apparently from some kind of alteration effect, but you don't think it was from an actual spell.
Daratris closes her eyes for a moment, steadying herself, and then is silent as she thinks. "None in specific. It could be the drow, there are some in this forest, though not as many as in Cormathor. It could also be the Eldreth Veluuthra. Some of their fanatics have been reported in this forest, and our village regularly trades with humans."
She shakes her head, and says, "There's other threats, but I don't know of any others that could pull this off. But, we haven't received the news from the other settlements since last year's Caerilcarn."
"Hmm, could be drow. I do not know this Eldreth Veluuthra, but if they are fanatics, anything is possible."
"They are a group that formed after the Weeping War. They see humans as a plague and want to wipe them off the face of the world. They resort to tactics like this, though sometimes I've heard of them doing much worse."
"That's an interesting, and potentially dangerous viewpoint. While I don't necessarily think humans are the best of people, I don't think wiping them out is the solution. Who makes up this fanatical group?"
"In my experience, Sun Elves, Wild Elves, and some Moon Elves. They have a number of fey allies, as well." She's reciting this information as most of her attention focuses on maintaining control. She takes a breath, and says, "I don't think it was them, though. When they kill other elves, they are quite open about their involvement. They want to set an example."
After a moment, she says, "I can't do it. I can't stay objective. Would you take the lead on finding this killer?"
Having noted her unease with the death of the town elder, Aelakorsess gives her an easy smile. "Of course, why don't you go take a break and I'll go talk to the boy who found him. "
Assuming she agrees, he goes to find the little boy. "Hey little guy. Heard you pretty brave earlier."
The boy looks like he has only just begun to calm down. He looks up to you, and then shakes his head, "No I wasn't. I screamed."
He looks to be about the equivalent of nine or ten. Still a child, but old enough to easily communicate with.
"Maybe, but you didn't run away, that's pretty brave if you ask me. Plus, you're scream alerted us all that something was wrong." He says, trying to boost him up.
The boy considers you a moment, and then nods, sniffling, "I guess."
Though there are a number of adults around, most of them caring and trying to reassure the boy, not one of them has that telltale protective stance that would indicate a parent.
"You did a good job. What's your name? My friends call me Akor." He says, indicating that's what they are now.
"Palar," the boy says, his voice rather soft.
"Please to meet you Palar. Can you tell me what happened?" He avoids asking specifically about the dead body or murder scene, hoping to not upset the boy any further.
"I was supposed to get some cloth. I walked in. He was… He was there on the floor."
There is something not right. Though the kid is doing a very convincing job acting upset, it's not quite convincing enough. A slight twitch of his eye gives away that he's lying, and the body language is actually a bit too perfect for a traumatized child.
"So you didn't see anything? And who were you getting cloth for? I've been here a few days now, and I don't recall seeing you, though admittedly I haven't all that up and about till today."
He glances around for Daratris, just in case.
Daratris has stepped back outside, but she isn't paying close attention to what's being said. Instead, she speaking to someone, perhaps a family member of her or the Elder. (Or both.)
The boy shakes his head, though he pauses. "Weeeellll… there was… Um… something I saw. Something was going out the window. But all I saw was black, I thought it was a bird."
The boy is most definitely lying this time. Though, the adults around him seemed convinced, as they start whispering amongst themselves, "The drow!" "It had to be." "They're getting more and more brazen!" "We have to do something!"
Akor pretends not to notice the obvious lie. "Alright, show me which window whatever it was went out. I have a pretty keen eye, maybe I can spot something you missed."
The boy nods, and lead you inside. He takes you to a window on the east side of the building, outside of which there is nothing but open-air.
Before following Palar, the ranger calls out to his friend "Daratris, would you mind coming with me back to the storage unit? The boy who found the body claims to have seen something black escape out the window, and I could use a second set of eyes."
Even if she doesn't come along, he's at least given her a heads up of what's going on.
"It might've been a bird," the boy says again, sheepishly, as he indicates the window in question.
Daratris comes in a few seconds later, moving over towards you and the boy. "There are many crows around here, and they are active all winter. So it would be a fitting disguise. There are Druids in the… The group we talked about," she finishes, perhaps not wanting to say the name in front of a child.
Akor investigates the window again, but he knows there's nothing there.
Once Daratris comes in, he turns back to them both. "Alright Palar, you're obviously lying, and probably hiding something. I suggest coming clean."
Daratris is instantly alert as she hears you say that.
The boy blinks, trying to give you an innocent look that really doesn't do the job, "I'm not hiding anything!"
Daratris frowns, and steps forward, "This isn't a time for games, tell us the truth… Palar?" The way she says the name, she didn't seem to know it. Which seems to surprise her.
The elven warrior fixes the boy with a direct stare. "I know none of the people who were around outside are your parents or guardians. Which isn't too odd, but coupled with the rest, paints a rather dim picture for you."
The boy sighs, but then in one smooth motion draws a hidden dagger from somewhere inside his tunic. However, you're quicker.
As he wasn't trying to kill the boy, who could still provide information, Akor summons vines to wrap around his foe, hoping to hold him fast.
The vines appear out of the wood, trying to wrap around the boy's legs. But, agile, he takes a step to the side, avoiding the squirming plants.
Daratris glances around quickly, and snatches up an iron off of a nearby shelf. She makes no move to attack, though, just saying "Don't make us hurt you, whoever you are."
Palar grins, slipping another hidden dagger from his tunic, and then his spell drops. Instead of a small child is an adult elf. An adult elf with the daemonic features of a tiefling, including bat-like wings on his back. "Please, do try." There is no magical aura, even with the change.
Akor, of course, would recognize what he is. Fey'ri.
"Well, alright, if you insist." Akor flicks his blade out twice, attempting to cut his foe down.
The blade slips past the Fey'ri's defences twice, slicing first into his neck (though not enough to kill him), then into his hip. For a split second, it looks like he's going to flee, only to take a slight step back to bump into the wall. He's trapped.
Before you do more, Daratris steps up, swinging the hunk of metal that is the iron by the handle.
The fey'ri ducks aside easily. Looking for an escape now, he flaps his wings and tries to leap over you.
As the demonic fae attempts to leap over him, Akor whips his curveblade overhead, slicing through it's midsection, cleanly splitting it in two.
He wipes his blade on it's tunic, he turns to Daratris. "Well, that settles who the killer was. But not why. I also tend to doubt it acted alone." He says.
There's a flash of magical aura as it dies, as the effect that was hiding it when he was transformed fades, revealing itself before vanishing.
If you search the body, you'll find a suit of very fine mithril chain protecting its upper body. The daggers are masterwork.
Daratris stares at the creature, and says, "There were rumours. Rumours of House Dlardrageth returning. I thought they were just that." She looks up, and says, "If there is more, how do we find them? If he hadn't been such a bad liar…"
Akor looks a bit surprised and taken aback when you mention House Dlardrageth. "Truly? That fell House still exists? How unfortunate. I am a rather competent demon hunter, hopefully my skills will lend themsevles to exposing more of the Fey'ri. If there are more, that means they have some sort of established base, possibly nearby."
Daratris shrugs, and says, "As I said, rumours. It was a topic at last year's Caerilcarn, but nobody took it seriously. It could be just some Fey'ri being spotted and people jumping to conclusions. But, if they're assassinating important leaders?"
She nods, then, at your words, and says, her voice more angry now as her control slips again, "I'll help you any way I can in tracking them down."
"Thank you. I'll handle cleaning this up. You don't need to be here for that. I can come find you later, and we'll talk about what to do next."
Daratris is quiet for a moment, and then nods, "Thank you." She inclines her head, and then turns to walk out.
The valuable mithril chain shirt and daggers aside, there isn't much to be found on the body.
As you're cleaning up, you notice a small flower petal piece that seems to stand out, caught in his clothes.
You recognize the piece of petal to be a petal from a variety of primrose that only grows high in the mountains. It is quite common in this part of the continent, however, and could be any of the nearby mountains.