Finch's eyes widen at the mention of the priest's disappearance.
"I'll say, this mystery's growing like wild ivy. I dread to know what else we'll find."
Answering Corentin, Tyari says, "Katrezra was a kind sort, but a bit strange at times. He claimed to have visions, but we could never confirm if they were valid. He came to the town many years ago, an escapee of one of the northern tribes. His frail condition is a side-effect of the treatment he underwent there and some trials associated with a volcano." She goes on to explain that the man was a devout follower of Iomedae and was essential in the past to the defense of the town on numerous occasions.
Hannah recalls hearing some fuss this morning about white swords being painted around the town, but the locals seem to contribute the appearance with graffiti and the unruly youth of the town. Little mind has been paid to the appearance.
After a search of Katrezra's quarters turns up no leads, Tyari says, “Unfortunately I have no more insight into your investigation. Iomedae’s light shines on those who seek the truth, however, and you are always welcome at this Sanctuary should you need healing or other assistance from the church.”
Once they are out of church, Hannah will pipe up.
"There is something sinister afoot in our beloved town. Painted white swords have been appearing all over town."
"White swords, you say? I think I may have seen one on the way to the inn, though their significance is lost on me. Could it be the emblem of some nearby tribe? Perhaps a threat of some sort? This does not bode well to me."
Corentin thanks the High Priestess for her hospitality.
Once outside he listens to his companions statements about the white swords. "This is odd indeed. No sign of the book in the temple either. You know Kurst mentioned that Rodrik was keeping a journal but I wonder if he wasn't mistaken and that it was in fact this book that he was writing and protecting. It would seem it may be an important thing to find. Regardless shall we head to the Clamor?"
As the party makes their way there he adds, "If these symbols are showing up all over town it may be best that we keep our findings to ourselves for the time being as best we can. Both to avoid spreading rumor and in case those involved have ears about." he lets his companions consider the words and then asks Hannah and her kin, "The High Priestess mentioned that she overheard them talking of ghosts among other things. Can you think of any place around that carries such thoughts beyond the Plague House?"
During the short walk Corentin specifically keeps an eye out or symbols of crossed white swords.
"I still think that we should talk to the smith that he commissioned the hopeknife from," Sasha ventures.
"My thoughts exactly, Sasha. That's a lead we've yet to touch on."
"Just the inscription. Why would Rodrik commission a hopeknife engraved to himself?"
"Maybe he didn't. If this were a murder staged as a suicide, somethings might have been left for our benefit," Hannah mused. Though generally much livelier this morning had been draining and she had been particularly withdrawn since Coretin ambushed her.
"Let's hope Sara can enlighten us on this, because we're not getting any closer to the answer," Finch somberly observes.
Leaving the Sanctuary, the party walks the main road of the lower quarter the party moves past the Ramblehouse and on to the Clamour, otherwise known as Morninghawk’s Fine Steel. The outside of the building is squat and sturdy, with black smoke rising from several chimneys. To those who are natives, the place is familiar, and to anyone else it quickly becomes obvious how the place earned its name. A constant ringing and banging can be heard from within, all sounds of a very active smithy.
As you enter the building you are instantly struck with waves of stifling heat, as the interior of the building suffers from little ventilation from the burning forges. Standing at one of the forges is an impressively build half-orc woman with arms like tree trunks, her face and skin covered in soot. She turns from her work long enough to notice your entrance, giving the group a curt nod.
No stranger to the Clamor, Corentin waves to Sara. Knowing better than to interrupt her he looks around to see who is working the storefront today.
You recall seeing several of these "white swords" around the city the past couple of weeks, appearing in odd places. Most people have wrote it off as graffiti.
Scanning the room Corentin finds it empty apart from the half-orc woman.
The walls and displays show an impressive array of fine steel, both in the form of arms and armor. Many pieces stand out as exceptional works of the craft and likely would fetch a handsome price. It is rumored that Agrit occasionally takes one of the best of Sara's pieces for her own enchanting purposes.
The cavalier raises a hand to signal Sara and waits patiently for her to find a good point to step away from her work. When she eventually come over he greets her as he would a fellow warrior and asks, "Sara has the news about Rodrik reached you yet? If not I am sorry to say that he was found dead this morning. We've been asked to investigate by his brother and in the course of doing so we found a strange hopeknife order we were hoping you might be able to tell us about." he hands her the slip of paper. "Did Rodrik in fact place this order? Do you know if he received the knife? If so did he say anything about the inscription or as to why he was purchasing a hopeknife when he already had one?"
"Or, at that, why it was dedicated to his own name?" Finch adds.
Sasha remains silent, listening to Sara's reply.
Sara frowns and nods to the cavalier, "Indeed I have heard the sad news. This is a loss for the town to be sure, Rodrik was a good man, and his sword will be missed." As Corentin hands her the slip of paper her eyes study it for a moment, and she replies, "Yes, this is indeed the receipt for his purchase. He came in a week ago and placed this order. I did the initial work myself, and then passed the knife off to one of my apprentices for engraving and finishing. He did not mention the reason for the order and I didn't feel it was my place to question it." She walks towards a small counter and flips through a rather ragged book that she produces from behind the counter. After a moment she begins sorting through several boxes and crates along the walls where the main forge stands.
“I guess it doesn’t matter so much anymore,” she says, “but I wonder where it went—it must be around here somewhere.” After a few more minutes searching for the knife, Sara comes up empty-handed. “I’ll bet that clumsy oaf Urnsul put it somewhere before she up and quit the other day; it’s hard to get good help. I’ll let you know if I find the blade.”
Corentin raises an eyebrow at the news. "How long had she worked here? Do you know where she might be now?"
Turning to his companions he askes, "Do any of you know Urnsul?"
"Was Urnsul, by any chance, a blonde?" Sasha asks, as tactfully as possible.
Sara shakes her head at the halfling's question, "No, she was not. She had worked for me for several weeks. She came to the town as many do, fleeing the tribes of the northern reaches. I'll admit I took pity on her when the young half-orc explained her tragic story in broken Common." Sara thinks for a moment and continues, answering Corentin, "I do not know where she might have gone, and she left without a word, not even claiming her pay that was due."
Hannah waves at Sara when they arrive in her smithy -- the smith was well known to her as the wife of her mentor. "Sara, have you noticed the white swords painted on the walls?"
Smiling broadly as Hannah enters, Sara responds, "So good to see you little rabbit, although I'm saddened you weren't spared these horrible events." As Hannah mentions the painted swords Sara raises her eye and is silent for a moment. After a short pause she says, “I don’t know anything about that personally, but I think there’s someone else you should talk to.”
She moves to a curtain separating a side room and leans in for a moment, muttering something inside. Finished, she returns to the main showroom and is followed by an ancient looking half-orc man, his skin weathered like old parchment. He moves very slowly into the room, leaning on a heavy cane for support. "My name is Katrezra, and I understand you are looking into the death of my friend."
"Yes, we are! We were looking for you too, when we couldn't fin you in the Sanctuary, I feared the worst. What is going on with the white swords? Do you know who the blonde half-orc is?"
With his sister seeming to have the conversation well in hand, Finch is satisfied just listening attentively.
The wither half-orc says, "It is no great secret that I was cursed with preternatural visions many years ago, during my time with the Empty Hand. Since I left those savages, many have sought my counsel into matters ranging from the mundane to the dire, but I’m afraid the omens that assault my dreams are nigh indecipherable, even to me, and I have no means of directing them. I have, however, seen these white swords, for several months now. Only recently the dreams and visions came to me much more often." He motions to Sara and coughs, spurring the woman into action as she quickly disappears into a side room to return a few seconds later with a waterskin. She hands it to Katrezra, who takes a drink from the container before continuing.
“Rodrik originally approached me to ask for advice while courting Brinya Kelver. The love-struck fool, bless his soul, thought I might have some special insights into the traditions of her people or visions of the couple’s everlasting happiness...but come now, do I look like the romantic type?” He smiles wryly, then shakes his head and moves on. “I couldn't help him with his relationship, but we gradually became close friends. I’d been experiencing vivid hallucinations of the white swords or crosses, and dreams of the Plague House outside town. When I told him of them, he seemed to think my dreams might help with his investigation. I told him about my visions as best I could, but the muse of my nightmares is as abstruse as she is unkind.”
The old man pauses for a moment, taking another drink, and then says, "I know he was planning on checking out the places and things from my visions but, to be truthful, I don’t think even he knew exactly what he was looking for. Rodrik had run afoul of a flood troll in the Plague House not long ago, and the poor fellow was convinced it was not just an isolated incident. He came to me seeking guidance, and his curiosity was piqued by my visions. I told him that flood trolls are native to Belkzen, but they rarely roam this far south of the Flood Road. Since learning of his investigation, though, I have had nightmares unlike any before, and I fear that some greater evil may be at play within Trunau’s walls.”
“Rodrik had plans to go back to the Plague House, but because of the unease I felt from my visions, I suggested he leave his journal with me, which he did. The night of his death, my visions were even more terrible, though still indecipherable. When news of Rodrik’s death reached me in the morning, I knew it must have been foul play, so I fled the Sanctuary, fearful that whoever targeted Rodrik would come after me as well. His death grieves me to no end, but at least my efforts bought me enough time to share this information with you.”
Katrezra ducks into the other room for a moment, coming back out shortly thereafter with a leather-bound book in his hands, which be passes to Johan.
Most of the journal contains personal information of little importance, however, there are two pages that seem to contain information related to your search.
Bellanie takes in all the half-orcs words and weighs them in her head thinking on what he has said then asks "Wait what are trolls doing so close to the town anyway? I could understand why Rodrik would be concerned. FOr your visions, there didn't happen to be anything about a blond half-orc would there? Also, it might be useful to relate your visions to us, that prompted Rodrick to investigate in the first place."
Katrezra regards the halfing before speaking, "That question is one I feel Rodrik was keen on answering as well, and is what drove his investigation. Flood trolls are creatures typically found more to the north. Most would consider them a lesser troll, but dangerous none the less. While it is very unlikely one would be seen this far south, it would not be impossible to fathom."
"My visions were not the source of his investigation, as he was on that path of his own accord, and honestly they come to me in such a jumble that they are impossible to properly understand. I have seen death, countless lives lost, and rivers of blood. And of course, the constant specter of the crossed swords." He thinks for a moment, "I have not seen this blond half-orc in my visions, nor did Rodrik ever mention him or her. I'm not sure what to make of that detail."
Turning to Johan the half-orc says, "Surely that isn't the case, you must be misreading his words. Rodrik thought the world of Brinya and would die for her." At the second question his face relaxes somewhat, "I stopped speaking to him of my visions because I felt he was going to get himself into trouble by digging into something he didn't understand. I did not want to lead him to his own demise. Perhaps it was all for naught, as he is no longer with us..."
"Thank you. Briszna*, Sasha says, nodding.
Hannah silently reads the pages, "That clears up the mystery of why he was having a new knife forged. I think we should investigate the Plague House together. There is safety in numbers."
My crush was still-born before it drew its first breathe. Poor Brinya, I should comfort her soon.
Bellanie nods to Hannahs suggestion "That sounds like the next logica place to look, though the blond half-orc still alludes us. Perhaps Desna will smile on us and we will catch up to him sooner than later."
After looking through the journal and listening to his companions Corentin says, "I agree, we should investigate the Plague House and see what secrets it may hold. Rodrik may not have found anything but it would seem his investigation itself may have drawn unwanted attention. I think before we depart though we should go and see Brinya. Rodrik says he didn't disclose anything to her but as close as they were I'm sure she must have noticed something."
"When we do go to the Plague House we should make sure we have fire or acid if there's a possibility of encountering trolls."
"We are grateful for your help," Finch bows to Katrezra.
"If we are to head to the Plague House, and I believe we should, I will need an hour's worth of time or so to prepare. I have yet to meditate today, what with the panic around Rodrik's sudden passing, and I would rather have nature's help at my disposal, should anything happen."
Bellanie nods to Finch's words "Yeah I should grab my gear, never can be too prepared."
Looking to Johan, Bellanie notes "Cor mentioned speaking with Brinya. I agree, it is probably best if we wait until light is on our side to investigate the plaguehouse, let's speak with Brinya tonight, get some rest and set out in the morning?"
"Right! To see Brinya, then!"
The party says their goodbyes to Sara, who begins closing up for the night, and start to make their way to the upper city where Brinya stays. The evening is cool and quiet as they approach the inner gates of the city.
As the party makes their way towards the gates, Finch and Sasha notice movement out of the corner of their eyes, and turn just in time to see the rush of five wolves from an alleyway. Their fur is ratty and matted and several boils and sores can be seen on their thin bodies.
Round 1 - Surprise Round -
Dashing from the alleyway, the mangy looking beasts quickly circle the party, looking for openings and nipping and biting at legs and feet.
These appear to be young wolves, and something does not seem right about them.
The wolves appear to be suffering from some sort of wasting disease. Without a closer examination it would be hard to tell the exact nature of the affliction.
Map is up!
Sasha casts speak with animals and emits a series of low growls and yips. As she speaks, she draws her longsword.
She is wary, keeping her sword between herself and the nearest wolf. If forced into combat, she will fight.
"Wolves within the walls? Something is very wrong here."
Corentin draws his axe, the blade gleaming in the late day sun. Hearing Sasha growling to the wolves he holds his attacks to see if her efforts are effective before striking.
"... It was unwise to go so long without meditation." Finch mutters, drawing his bow.
"There's something strange about these wolves... They're not acting as they should, especially for their age... I wish we had the means to capture and heal them, but in this conditions, putting them out of their misery may be our only choice."
He holds a hand up to the sky, readying to respond to any attack with a burst of rumbling thunder.