'Khar doesn't catch Urick's glance at first, but then when Urick speaks up, he snaps out of his disinterested state. "Oh, 's it time t'stop talkin' nice?" he says, no longer leaning against the wall. He walks up alongside Urick and looks down at the mayor, sizing him up. "Look y'got problems, we all do. That's why y'help us and we help ya. Cuz th'other choice is we get added t'your list a'problems. Y'don't want that."
Perdita thoughtfully removes the bottle of whiskey from any danger of violence. "A very pleasant drop. Much more palatable than the things the students produce from their stills."
She settles back, making it obvious she isn't going to interfere with any harm the Mayor might earn for himself.
The Mayor holds up his hands. "I dunno know what else you want from me," he says. "Do you have some sorta proof? Or am I gonna haf'ta get Leonard in here to kick y'all out?"
Tassa frowns.
"Help us find Mr. Kyle. Or his remains, if he's dead. Help us understand what happens. Then we're happy to help deal with your water wolf. That makes everyone happy, right?"
"We're not trying to pick a fight," Henry says, trying to prevent things from escalating any further. "We can help with any issues you're having, and we would rather be your friends than your enemies. But you are hardly one to demand evidence when you've provided none of your own. If you won't provide answers, then we'll have to find them ourselves."
The Mayor shrugs. "I've told you all I can. As I said, may be that somebody else in town knows more about where Mr. Kyle is. While you're here, though, you're free to stay in one of the spare rooms in my Manor, and you're free to take part in the Founders' Feast," he says. "I told you, we ain't a Bank. I didn't make notes about which bottles he drank, I just yelled at 'im and kicked 'im out."
By this point, you can tell that he's still lying about not knowing more. It's just the same lie that he's already told.
"You's the ones that's threatening me," he adds testily.
"Do remember you could have settled this peacefully by telling the truth." Perdita sighs and gets ready to leave. "Any breakages, violence and deaths are now on your head."
"We're not..." Henry sighs and rubs his eyes. He could have expected this sort of behavior from the warriors, but Perdita was a surprise. "We're here to find a missing person, not to cause trouble for the townspeople. And if there's nothing else to be done here, I suggest we be on our way."
Perdita nods sympathetically to Professor Lainor. While she understands his desire for a peaceful resolution to the matter she believes that this village, isolated for so long, has grown arrogantly secure in that isolation. "The townspeople know something about the missing man and seem to believe a campaign of clumsy lies and outright denial will serve to protect them. Either they decided that murder was cheaper than taxes, or they are trying to hide some dark, disgusting secret. Most likely both knowing these backwaters."
The Mayor calls for his brother Leonard, who quickly ushers the group out of the Mayor's Manor. "F@&!in' adventurers," he grumbles, "always coming around and causing so much trouble. Get outta here."
There is also the trading post that you've already visited, regular farmhouses of average farmers, and abandoned farmhouses on the outskirts of town. What do you do?
"I suggest we talk with the other townsfolk first, either the ferry or the weaver. Let's see if the rest of them are in on the lies, or if just the mayor is involved. Perhaps we'll be fortunate, but I'm starting to doubt that we will. At least we'll know who is against us and who isn't. But I admit I'm very curious to see if there's anything interesting around the old church or the amphitheater. This festival of theirs seems curious."
Urick grimaces at Perdita's remarks, not having really intended to follow up on his thinly veiled threat. Now the man probably thinks that they want to kill him. Realizing that they were getting nowhere, he vacates the mayor's home without protest.
"Good plan," he says with a nod. "Unless any of you want to split up, I suggest we all check the ferry first. I very much doubt that Elias fled to the River Kingdoms, but if the ferryman took him west, then the mayor was definitely lying... if that wasn't clear enough already."
The entire scene was bothersome and unsatisfying to 'Khar. He would've just as soon beat up the mayor, but there were probably enough people in town that it would've ended poorly for them, though he would've enjoyed beating the smug look off of the mayor's and his brother's faces.
"Talk t'the ferryman sounds good. Should stick together, lest the mayor attempt t' 'drive us outta town'"
Having decided on their next course of action, the group gathers itself up and walks over to the ferryman's cottage, a rickety-looking small wooden building next to the river. It looks one-room except for an outhouse along the side. Adjacent to the house is a small wooden canopy, a muddy path down to the riverside, and a rope which hangs across the rope over to a similar canopy on the other side. Sitting on a stool cleaning underneath his toenails is the ferryman. The ferryman is probably 60 years old, and is bent and wrinkled with age. He looks up as the group approaches, waving cheerily. "Hello, y'strangers!" he calls. "Y'here to use the ferry? It's three copper each."
"Perhaps later," Henry says, trying to sound jovial, though he's still a little off from the stone-walling at the manor house. "Actually, we wanted to ask you a question. Has another outsider come through here recently? We were told he might have been heading down river."
The ferryman smiles, his teeth a collection of jagged and yellow specimens. "No, I'm 'fraid not," he says. "I mean, there was an outsider here, but he never left this way."
Henry was not surprised in the slightest to hear that. "I don't suppose you spoke to the man while he was in town, or perhaps heard anything around town. We're trying to figure out where he might have gone. His family is quite worried that he's so late coming home."
Perdita stays quiet and lets Professor Lainor talk to the ferryman, watching and listening carefully to see if she could detect any falsehood?
'Khar yawns, standing off to the side a ways and scanning the surroundings. They hadn't picked a fight with the mayor, so he assumed that roughing up the ferryman was also unlikely to happen. He looks at the water, wondering if bunyon or whatever it was called was likely to be around somewhere nearby.
"How about the water wolf?" Urick asks, deciding to change the subject. He could not think of any reasons that the man might lie, unless he was involved in whatever the mayor was hiding. The half-elf gestures at the river. "I take it that this is a part of the territory it has claimed?"
"Yeah, I talked to 'im." he says. "He asked me, real rudely-like, whether I had paid my taxes and where to find the full amount."
"Didn't like him for one second. Don't know where he went, though."
The old man gets a wide grin on his face at the mention of the water wolf. "Oh, the water wolf? Yeah, 'e's hunting around here. Lost another babe just this last winter. Nobody knows where 'e lairs, though."
"Hey!" he adds, "Are you folk gonna join in the Founders' Feast? We'd love to have you."
He seems sincere enough, although a little too excited about the water wolf, considering that it eats babies.
"It sounds like Mr. Kyle wasn't the world's most subtle tax collector," Henry says dryly. "But I suppose we'll have to keep looking. We'll try to deal with both problems while we have the chance." His lips turn down into a small frown. "We've heard quite a lot about this Founder's Feast. It must be quite the celebration to have everyone in town so excited."
Tassa's stomach rumbles (audibly, she fears) at the mention of the feast. "I'd be happy to hear more of this Feast. That said, we need to find Mr. Kyle as soon as possible.
"We're prepared to offer 50 gold to the person who leads us to him...or his remains, as the case may be. If you come across anything that could lead us there, please let us know.
"Otherwise, is there anyone in town you suggest we talk to?"
The old man grins. "I'll let you know if I hear anything! For now, though... you should talk to the Mayor. E's the one who knows everything."
"What he knows, and what he says are two different things sadly." Perdita remarks lightly, making a polite goodbye to the ferryman.
"The Founders feast?" She says once out of earshot of the man. "I wonder who or what is the sacrifice for this celebration?"
"We've spoken to him already, but thank you anyway." Henry nods politely as the party moves away, assuming that no one else has any questions for the ferryman.
"I fear that I've become a little paranoid in my age," Henry says glibly as Perdita's comment. "Because that was rather close to what I was thinking. Perhaps they're merely proud of their local traditions, but I'm beginning to feel nervous." He sighs in frustration and rubs his eyes. Then he pulls his glasses off and begins to polish them on a handkerchief. "So on to the next location?"
A procession of people head out to an empty field on the edge of town at this point, bringing pavilion tents, great long wooden tables, digging ditches, planting fences and so on. Seems to be set-up for the night's Feast.
"These people are certainly... quaint. But let us not jump to any hasty conclusions," Urick says, not entirely surprised that the ferryman couldn't help them. Still, knowing that Elias did not take the ferry out of town narrowed down their possibilities significantly.
'Khar shrugs, "Even back where th' rajas are monsters, feasts are still feasts. Donno why it'd be different here," he says.
The weaver's house is small and humble. Decorative tapestries waft in the light wind from the house's porch, and the inside is filled with yarn strung from one place to another. It's unclear whether this is storage or decoration, and there's half-finished textiles everywhere. An old lady's voice can be heard from inside as the group shows up. "Just a moment," it says. You can hear some tools being shuffled around and put down, and then a bent woman in her 70s comes out of the back of the house. Her frown deepens as she sees you. "You must be the outsiders. I hear you killed young Ornigaard's pet."
Henry fights the urge to sigh. Everything is going to be trouble in this place, isn't it. "Not all of us were actually there for that, and those of us that were tried to make recompense." he says. "But if we might have a moment of your time, we had a few questions to ask. We're trying to put together just what Elias Kyle was up to while he was here. Did you meet him when he came through town?"
The old woman crosses her arms with some annoyance. "He was here, yes," she says. "Demanded tax money like some feral thing. Has he gone missing?"
"If so, that a%&#$!$ deserved whatever was coming to him."
She shrugs. "Maybe he got eat by werewolves. We're close to the Shudderwood, and the Demon Wolves have been extra active lately. Or maybe that bumbling fool just fell into a hole and starved or something."
Perdita listens to the woman carefully.
Perhaps if young Ornigaard didn't let his pet fly off and attack people it might not have been killed?" Perdita suggests, trying to draw some of the old hags ire her way. Hopefully this will enable Professor Lainor a smoother conversation.
One of Henry's eyes twitches in frustration and he grinds his teeth together for an instant before he takes a deep breath. "It was a child's pet, and not a horribly dangerous one. Blaming him is hardly fair. Frankly, he deserves more than an apology." He takes another deep breath and rubs his eyes. "My apologies, I should keep my temper in check. There's little that can be done to change to past. The best that can be done is to try to make recompense and move on. Do you remember anything else at all, or perhaps know anyone who might have?"
Urick winces, realizing that their investigation just hit another hurdle. He has to repress the urge to outright scowl when Perdita makes her remark. At the rate they were going, it was only a matter of time before the villagers chased them out with torches and pitchforks.
"Anything you can tell us would be of assistance," he adds, trying to smooth things over. But his exasperation shows.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
The old lady looks right on at Henry. Her facial expression is one of mild disdain. "You talk to the Mayor yet?" she asks.
The constant run around from all the people in the town grated on 'Khar. They were common peasants in some podunk town that no one cared about. He didn't care if they'd murdered the damn tax collector in cold blood, so long as they just admitted to it and let them go about their business.
"Yeah, talked t'him, was 'bout as useful as the rest of y'folks," 'Khar says, stepping up to the woman. "Listen, lady, we don't wanna be here, but we ain't leavin' 'til one of y'folk tells us somethin' more than 'good riddance'. Less time we're in town, less problems for y'to worry 'bout, if y'catch my drift."
The old woman draws herself up. "Are you threatening me?!?" she shrieks. "Andretti will hear of this!"
She gets up and attempts to storm out of the house, marching in a huff up towards the Mayor's manor house.
"This is getting us nowhere," Urick remarks to the others as the woman storms off, pinching the bridge of his nose. He no longer felt the need to refrain from expressing his irritation. "If she already knows about that blasted stirge, then everyone else in town surely knows by now."
Henry's face is nearly identical to the half-elf's as the old woman storms off in a huff. "If anyone was going to talk to us before, they're not going to now," he grumbles. He momentarily considers digging out his alchemist's supplies and making a tonic for his growing headache, but decided it wasn't worth the effort. "The sooner we can get out of here, the better."
The sun begins to set.
"What better time to investigate an abandoned building than the dead of night," Henry says, half to himself. "Unless someone has a better idea."