|
Um, Ma'am. We aren't trying to deputize our selves. I thought you would know of the Pathfinders renown, how we solve murders and mysteries around the known world. I didn't think we'd need her letterRobbin fumbles around his pack for a moment. Almara Delisen asked that we investigate. Here is a letter from her. I'm sorry. This is my first mission and we are out on a delivery for Venture Captain Drandle Dreng. I was hopping for a big mystery to solve. Naive of me to think I'd get an important mission first time out. We meant no disrespect. We just want to help. Robbin humbly hands the sheriff the letter.
Sheriff Feldane listens to Robbin with growing impatience and annoyance. It's clear she's never heard of Drandle Dreng and it appears that she's just on the verge of having you all arrested when Robbin produces Almara's letter. The sheriff snatches it irritably and quickly scans its contents.
When she finishes, she opens her mouth to speak, pauses with a sigh, takes a deep breath, and finally gives a little shrug. "All right. I can't say I like it, nor you lot, and you can be sure I'll be keeping a close eye on you - if you make things worse know that you'll be the ones paying the price for it. The jail here is newly built and we've got plenty of room for troublemakers, if that's what you turn out to be!" She glances back down at Almara's letter. "But it does appear that Mistress Delisen wants you all to represent her interests - though I hope she knows what she's doing - so far I ain't seen much to persuade me that you're some sort of world class detectives! But never mind, I've got enough trouble on my plate and if she wants you, so be it. By Desna's Drawers, she's got a world o' trouble comin' to her already, so maybe you foreigners can help somehow. Though I doubt it..." she glares darkly at the group.
"Right then, what do you want to know?"
"No, they've visited before and we've never had a problem with them. To tell the truth, I'm not at all convinced that the carnival folks had anything to do with it. But poor ole Walder's dead, murdered dead, there's no denying that, and his shop robbed, no denying that neither, and now people are quick to point the finger of blame."
She sighs and puts her feet up on her desk. "The mood in town is sour. There are stories all over the place about a great four-legged beast flying over town last night after the circus closed down, silhouetted across the moon. Of course, I’ll be damned if I can find a single eyewitness who actually saw the sphinx. Now poor Walder is left dead in some bushes. It’d be one thing if these deaths were accidental, but the robbery angle has people thinkin’ of a Sczarni heist. I’m not proud to say it, but this stirs a lot of unworthy opinions about Varisians."
The sheriff sighs sadly and looks grim, "Aye, more than one. First was old Archivin Walder, the town moneylender and sometimes pawnbroker. He owns - or I guess I should say "owned" - a local business called the Locked Box. Walder was found mauled while walking to his home after the circus last night. His wife went looking for her husband when he never came home, and she discovered the body."
Feldane pauses and shakes her head. "Agnes Walder begged her husband’s four full-time guards who lived at the Locked Box for help. Three of them left their post to search, and one guard stayed behind to secure the office. Thieves, presumably in league with the creature that killed Walder, burst into the Locked Box, killed the remaining guard, and stole many easily carried valuables (such as gems and jewelry). The robbery was interrupted when the guards brought Walder’s body to the office instead of his home, and they glimpsed two humanoid figures fleeing in the night. Upon finding the guard dead and the building burglarized, the three remaining guards secured the building until I could be notified."
"So now I've got two murders and a robbery on my hands, without much in the way of clues. Everyone's saying that it was th' damned sphinx what done it for old Walder, but no actual witnesses. Or at least none that I've found yet."
|
"Right-O. Seems like a complicated mess to me. We'll straighten it right out, never you mind it! Robbin here has the right idea, if I do say so myself. Wanting to avoid more miscommunications and all."
The half-orc turns to the other pathfinders.
"Looks like we can be going to the shop, or be heading to visit the sphinx. What will it be Mates? I am thinking the sphinx, since we already know the shop is under a nice and watchful eye"
Sheriff Feldane directs one of her constables to show the group the site of Walder's murder, and directions to the Locked Box. However, she balks at Robbin's request for a note. "I've already dismissed your request to be deputized. Almara Delisen wants you to represent the Carnival's interests in this matter, and that's her right, but don't think that means you're working for me now. Ye ain't! And I'll be keeping a close eye on you - if you can help solve these crimes, all to the good, but if ye makes things worse, well, it'll be the lock-up for ye, sure as I'm sheriff!"
It's a short walk to the spot on the road where Walder's body was found. The constable points out to you the location and steps back, with folded arms, curious to watch how these so-called pathfinders solve crimes...
|
|
Robbin looks around first before getting down low to look at the ground more closely. He looks up at the constable and asks how was the body positioned? After listening intently to the constable Robbin will, while being careful to not disturb the ground , walk around the bushes looking for any potential clues.
LOOK HERE! Robbin calls the group over to a spot near by These look like clawed tracks of a big creature. There seem to be no other tracks to indication where the creature came from or where it went. They just start out of nowhere— Robbin flaps his arms but frowns because of his lack of lift as if the creature could have flown to the spot and then flown out again.
|
From the other direction, a small grey furred Ratfolk heads directly for the party. Despite his size, he has the swagger of something 8’0” tall and 500 lbs. ”Hey you lot, Dreng is losing his mind about his mother’s gift. Send me to check on you and make sure the task was completed in no uncertain terms.”
At seeing the blank looks, he growled. ”Two drinks in and everyone in this town knew who you were. Not keeping much of a low profile, Eh? I’m Ninnic, and I’m here to help.”
|
|
"Well mates, you could just head on down that way to..."
The tall, impecibly dressed half-orc begins to gesture down the path.
"That is unless of course any of you can help solve this little mystery we have found outselves in. In which case, you gents are welcome to speak up. Whaddya make of these tracks that go on disappearing like this?"
|
|
Robbin's shoulders slump, Oh my! I guess we. . . I. . . underestimated the importance of the delivery. It felt like a . . .waste of resources. When we were asked to help solve the murder. I felt like it was a chance to prove our . . . my. . . worth to Dreng. Then Xeveos Mann got pulled out for another mission. . . . We have some places to look for clues. Robbin proceeds to fill in the 3 Pathfinders on what they know and near the end he interrupts himself mid-sentence with wide eyed embarrassment.Holy mid-season casting switch, Apologies for my rudeness. I'm Robbin Redfist. This is my first mission out from the academy. They are Gorak and Courtland, indicating each in turn.
It doesn't take long for the group to find the way to the Locked Box, one of Ilsurian's better pawn shops and moneylending establishments.
The building itself is sturdy and solid, with 12-foot-high ceilings, heavy wooden doors, and no windows. The pathfinders find Agnes Walder, with two guards, sitting mournfully amidst the wreckage of her showroom.
Lamps illuminate the interior of this large showroom, even by day. Glass display cases, broken in a few places, line the walls, while two additional cases sit like islands in the center of the room. The cases contain an eclectic mix of valuables such as unusual tools, masterwork weapons, jewelry, fine china, antiques, and artwork. A set of merchant’s scales rests on top of one of the display cases. The glass cases are 4 feet high and individually locked, though some were smashed open by the thieves. Broken glass has been swept up into careful piles.
Teary-eyed, Agnes blames herself for the death of her husband. She believes if she had gone to the carnival with him, events would have been different. “It just bothered me to think of him ogling that winged she-lion whatsit—all that prancin’ about without a top on. But none a’ that would matter if only Archie was still here with me!”
"Who - who are you?" she sniffles a bit as she asks.
|
|
The Half-Orc gives a formal bow, sweeping off his deep purple top hat. As it comes off of his head, it's color seems to shift almost immediately to a dusty and worn red that matches his doublebreasted coat. He stands and, placing the hat back on his head, its color again shifts into the deep purple from earlier.
"Top of the mornin' to you, M'dear. I am Gorak and these are my expert traveling companions! Expert at what, you might ask? Expert at finding answers and investigating, and what not. We want to help you M'dear, if you would just let us!"
Mrs. Walder looks perplexed and confused. "Sheriff Feldane and her deputies are on the case, though I have to say that haven't been much help so far. I don't understand why you are here? Who sent you? You're not insurance claims adjusters, are you?" She begins to cry again. "Oh dear Archie, dear dear Archie, why, .... Can you bring him back to me?"
Agnes Walder snivels some more before blowing her nose like a trumpet into a fine lace handkerchief. "All right then. Though I don't know I can tell you that I didn't already tell the sheriff. I went out looking for Archie when he didn't come home. I was the one who found him - it was, it was - terrible! That beast scratched and clawed him! He didn't deserve that, no sir. Archie weren't perfect, but he were still me husband, an' he outa had a better end than that."
She looks around at the wreckage of their shop. "After I found Archie I asked the shop guards to come help me. These fellows -" she gestures to the two guards present - "came with me, along with Ole Rutabags, but Thom Turnip stayed back here to keep a guard on the shop. Afraid I am to say it, but that weren't too lucky for Ole Thom, no sir. Cuz, while we was out fetching Archie's body, someone done broke in here and poor Ole Thom! When we came back with, with, with Archie's, his, his body, that's when we saw 'em running off, two of 'em, burglars for sure."
"Anyway, that's where things be, 'n I'll be much obliged if ye kin actually get me some justice, or at least revenge, though I got me doubts. Feel free to look around if ye want."
|
|
"I might be asking an unusual question, Miss. But, do you have any item or possession of your husband that the gent might have been wearing or using at the time of this murder?"
Examining an item in this way requires him to spend 1 minute handling the item. If the item is a magic item, the occultist learns its properties and command word as if he had successfully examined the item using detect magic and succeeded at a Spellcraft check. This ability does not reveal whether the item is cursed unless the occultist’s class level is equal to or greater than the caster level of the item. If the item has any historical significance, the occultist learns one piece of information about its past (as determined by the GM). Finally, if the item was last used no longer than 1 day ago per the occultist’s class level, the occultist learns one piece of information about the last creature to use the item. This information might be a glimpse of the creature’s appearance, a brief vision of what it saw while using the item, or perhaps its emotional state when it last used the item. The GM determines what information is gained in this way. This functions like the psychometry occult skill unlock, but doesn’t require a skill check and can be used at will.