You were all hired a couple of weeks ago by a merchant named Silas Gribb as caravan guards. The trip has been mostly uneventful. A few would-be bandits scared off. Some potholes forcing a broken wheel to be replaced. Nothing you weren't all more than capable of handling. The weather's been fairly nice as well with a cool breeze brushing away the heat of the summer sun and the occasional light mist of rain. Now you've all arrived at your destination: the small, sleepy town of Belhaim. It's not impressive like the large Taldoran city you left from, but it's charming in it's own quiet way.
Silas stops the lead cart out near a large building: an Inn called The Wise Piper. "Right now you lot, just help me unload these here things and then I'll pay you what I owe."
After a few minutes of unloading, you notice an official looking man approaching with what appear to be a small retinue of guards.
"Ahh, what can I be doing fer you yer sheriff-ship?" Silas addresses the man.
"If I could have a word with you over here, Mr. Gribb." The sheriff's voice is clipped and formal as he motions your employer off to one side. As he does so, a couple of guards peel off from his group and enter the building. The sheriff and Silas talk in hushed whispers for a while.
After a few moments, the guards that entered the inn return, pulling a feebly struggling young man. Upon seeing them, the sheriff waves one hand, motioning for two more guards to escort Silas away. As he goes, you can clearly hear him saying things like, "I'm innocent I tell ye!" and "I want a lawyer!" and "You can't do this!"
The sheriff then approaches all of you. He gives each of you an appraising look before he begins to talk. [b]"I am Sheriff Roberts, head of the law enforcement here in Belhaim. What is your business here, and what is your relationship with one Mr. Silas Gribb?"
The fuzzy man steps forward, his hands held forward in a non-threatening gesture. His hair and moustache, the color of orange rust, rustle and tangle in whatever wind may be present. Many weapons of dubious quality have been strapped to the back of his armor.
"This one iss called Tiger, Tiger Sher-man." he says, smiling. He has too many canine teeth. "We arre guards, hired by Mister Silas. Know leettle of his business, this one." And, placing his right hand on his chest. "Honest seetizen, I am. Do not wish trouble."
The sheriff's eyes narrow, apparently attempting to determine the truth of Tiger's words. "And how exactly did you come by this job? Have you worked for Mr. Gribb before?"
A pale man with long silver hair looks at the sheriff and Tiger before lowering the hood of his ragged grey cloak. He sniffs around with his strangely snakelike nose. His deep red eyes change to yellow color as he begins to talk.
"Mr. Gribb came to me at a bar I frequented in Maheto. He was looking for a group of capable guards to escort his caravan. When I inquired him of the cargo, he would not tell me." Arden looked at the cart with eyes that flashed red. "As I was desperate for money, I took the job and found others who were wishing to travel." Arden turned back to the sheriff with light green eyes. "This was when I first met Mr. Gribb, and have had no other jobs with him."
While the sheriff remains impassive, one of his guards flinches slightly when Arden lowers his hood. The other makes a small hand gesture when he thinks no one is looking.
Sheriff Roberts nods slightly when Arden mentions Maheto, steadily meeting the strange man's gaze and seeming not to notice the oddly shifting eye color. When Arden's done, he says, "And your name is...?"
Sheriff Roberts glances briefly over his shoulder at one of his guards. He then frowns at the man and snaps his fingers to get his attention, making a scribbling gesture in the air. The guard looks confused for a moment before understanding dawns on his face. He rummages noisily through some packs before pulling out some paper and a quill and quickly starting to take notes.
Roberts then turns his attention back to the group. "And you mean to tell me that for all the weeks you were in his company you had no idea at all what you were guarding? Mr. Gribb never made any reference or off-hand remarks to associates? Nobody got curious and took a peek?"
"Two weeks, iss not so many. And we are prrofessionals."
Sheriff Roberts looks the group up and down, clearly trying to judge just how "professional" you all are. "Two weeks with not much else to do but travel all day; there aren't exactly a lot of attractions Between here and Maheto."
After a few more minutes of questioning , the sheriff nods his head, seeming satisfied. "Very well, it appears you all knew nothing of Mr. Gribbs' smuggling. You are all free to go. Just keep your noses clean while you remain here in Belhaim." He then snaps his fingers and waves to a few guards, who start reloading the goods the party had been unloading in preparation for taking them off. He then briskly walks off in the same direction Mr. Gribbs was taken in.
As the guards are finishing loading the goods, a middle-aged woman comes out of The Wise Piper, drying a mug on her apron. She tsks softly and shakes her head. "Bad business, that." She then seems to notice the group of you standing around.
"Oh my! I didn't see y'all standin' there!" She moves closer, peering curiously at all of you and smiling warmly. "Why, I don't recall seeing any of you 'round here abouts before. You new in town?" The question seems rhetorical as she continues talking without waiting for a response. "Mah name's Talia. Talia Orem. And I'm the owner of this here fine establishment." She gestures towards the inn behind her that she came out of. "What brings y'all ta our lil' ol' neck of the woods?"
A man in rough brown leather armor steps forward, smelling of gunpowder. He is wearing several bandoliers that hold various shells and holds a battered musket against his shoulder.
"Well met Talia, we're just humbled caravan guards passing through. You wouldn't happen to know who that young man is that got pulled from your inn, and why the sheriff arrested those two? We don't want any trouble but we can't get paid if our employer is in prison."
"Well now, I don't mean ta be a Miss Dorcas, but that was young master Williams. Bit of a scamp, he is. Always talking 'bout these 'get rich quick' schemes of his. Seems his most recent plan must've taken him wrong side of the law. No doubt Sheriff Roberts'll straighten him out. Don't know what'll happen ta th'other fella though. Since he's not from around here abouts, t'wouldn't surprise me if he taken South ta be dealt with."
She looks the group of you over, taking in your well-traveled appearance. "Iff'n you're waitin' for him ta pay you, well, I imagine you might be waitin' some time. Say, why don't you come in and have a bite ta eat? You can stay a couple of nights free of charge while you figure out what you want ta be doing next; wouldn't want your first impression of us ta be that we're an unfriendly sort."
A free meal? This changes everything. Tiger steps forward and bows.
"Thank you, fine madam. This iss a great kindness you do for us."
"Thank you, a meal would be most welcome."
Talia nods, seeming pleased, and ushers you all inside The Wise Piper. She seats you all at a table together and goes off, presumably to get your meal.
The Wise Piper seems to be a decent place. It's nothing fancy, but it's clean and comfortable. The inside is pleasantly cool after being out in the sun for so long. It's late enough that you've avoided the lunch rush, but early enough that the local drunks haven't come out yet.
Despite this, the place isn't quite empty; there are a few other customers scattered about the room. There's a middle-aged woman sitting with two young men next to a window. They seem to be discussing something. Near the door is an older woman, who seems to be rushing through the second half of her meal and keeps glancing at a time piece. Finally, there are two young women sitting and chatting happily with each other as they sip some beverage.
It's not too long before Talia returns with your meal. She's brought you some kind of breaded meat and mashed potatoes, smothered in gravy, some corn on the cob, biscuits that look to have come right out of the oven with a tray of butter sitting nearby, and a light salad with what appears to be iced tea to wash it all down with. For desert there's a steaming plate of apple pie. It all looks, and smells, delicious.
Huh, guess this tavern is also a good place to gather information. Tiger Sherman will take the time to pretend to doze off and use his daily Detect Thoughts ability.
Arden walks over to the woman rushing through her meal and sits down near her. He asks her, "What is the rush, mam? Are you late for an appointment?"
"What sort of arguments arise between them?" Arden says looking at the woman.
"As travelers who appreciate the uses of all the gods, we appreciate your hard work in mediating between those of different faiths. Perhaps we could be of assistance in mediating these conflicts?"
She shakes her head at Sharpe. "That's very kind of you, but unless you've been trained in the ways of law-" Her expression suggests that she finds this doubtful. "I think we'll-". She's interrupted mid-sentence.
Just then, the walls of the inn rattle as though shaken by thunder. However, looking outside, there doesn't appear to be a single cloud to mar the sunny day.
There's a brief moment of silence before whispers of "What was that?" and "Could it be an earthquake?" start to be murmured.
Florace strides in looking very upset. He is garbed in a brilliant white raiment, with a golden trillium painted on his breastplate. The same flower forms the crossguard of his bastard sword. He is just about to speak when he stumbles as the walls shake. His hands go at once to his sword, though he doesn't draw it.
He clenches his jaw. "This must be wicked sorcery. Sharpe, Arden, Tiger, to me!"
Tiger frowns. "This iss no normal thunder, Mister Sir Florace. An earthquake we would've felt. Maybe sorcery, yes." And, looking at Florace's hand on his sword, "But everybody in here seemss safe though."
"It sounds more like a land slide to me. Has it rained much recently?" Arden asks the woman. He stands up and turns toward Sir Florace.
She shakes her head. "Not especially. If you'll excuse me, I should go make sure nothing has gone amiss at the temple." With that she hurries off.
A short while later, another man bursts into the tavern. Out of breath, he manages to gasp out, "The Witch Tower....it's fallen."
There's a collective gasp from the local in the room, all of whom immediately rush outside.
"Did Hunclay finally talk Devy into demolishing it?"
"Naw, can't be. She'd never give in to that. Not with what happened."
"He's creepy anyway. Who knows what he does all locked away in his mansion."
"I wonder if anyone was hurt."
Sharpe runs outside and sees the plume of smoke. "What happened? What is this Witch Tower? We should go there and make sure no one is hurt!"
Arden runs outside and heads to the source of the smoke. On the way, he asks a few of the onlookers, "Where can I find Hunclay's Mansion?"
Florace goes outside with the others. Sharpe has the right of it. It doesn't sound as if this Hunclay is going anywhere. We should go to the tower first.
He heads toward the remains of the tower.
Arden, still making his way to the tower, continues to ask onlookers the whereabouts of Hunclay's mansion.
Once we see the tower and help those there then we may want to head to Hunclay since he may know something about this. Knowing about the proximity of the mansion to the tower may be useful when investigating.
When you ask for directions to the mansion, they're pretty similar to the directions you're given to the tower as the two are right next to each other.
When you reach the site of the collapsed tower, you see two locals puttering about aimlessly. One wanders about scratching her head, and the other stands with hands on his hips, chewing on a stalk of grass. Both are wearing the same uniform the Sheriff and his men were wearing earlier, but you don't recognize either of them. There are a few more guards about keeping the crowd of gawkers from getting too close to the ruins.
Someone from the crowd yells, "Maybe old Hunclay knows what happened! His house is right on that hill after all!" The man in uniform pauses and seems to talk this over with the others. There seems to be some disagreement about who will go to check it out, until finally, an older woman from the crowd shakes her head in exasperation and heads up the hill towards the house. The man with the stalk of grass quickly jogs to catch up with her and then continues towards the building.
Shortly after they've left, another woman shows up with a young man who looks to be her son. Upon seeing her, some of the sheriff's men jog over and start talking to her. After a moment, she looks over the men with a slight frown, taking in their slightly lost appearance. She turns and slowly scans the crowd. Her gaze finally setting on the group of you.
"You all, over there." She approaches you, the crowd respectfully stepping aside. "I have not seen you in town before. I am Lady Origena Devy, baroness of Belhaim. Who are you? Are you, perhaps, adventurers?"
We are, my lady. My pardon, but I must ask: do you know if anyone was inside that tower when it came down?
We ought to introduce ourselves to the noblewoman, but I have more pressing concerns, hence my apology.
"That's part of what was strange; it seems that a couple of kobold bodies were found in the debris. Why they were here, I have no idea. We don't really see than many in this area. I don't think any villagers were in the tower, but we can't be sure."
The man and woman who set off to the mansion then return and whispers in the baroness' ear. She frowns and then addresses you again, pointing to the man and woman in uniform that you saw poking about the rubble earlier. "Mulle and Hodd here can't handle this without the Sheriff to hold their hands, and I want to know what happened here. You seem to be a capable bunch. If you go in there and look through the rubble—find out what happened and why there are kobolds in my town—I'll pay the lot of you 625 gold pieces. While you're looking around in the ruins, keep an eye out for any signs of our local eccentric, Hunclay. It seems somewhat suspicious to me that he’s not answering his door. Let me know what you find."
Tiger will attempt a huddle with the rest of the party. "Six hundred gold, to look through a few ruined rooms? Quite a bit of money, and more I think than Mister Silas even offered."
"What he means to say is that we'll take the offer."
Sir Florace formally introduces the party to the lady and graciously accepts her obviously unsuspicious proposal.
Lady Devy nods at your acceptance and leaves you to get to work.
When you look at the tower, you can see that only fragments of the first and second floors still stand. It's little more than an enormous heap of cracked stone and splintered wood lying in a mound here, tumbled partially down the hill to the southeast. The mound of rubble forms a natural ramp that leads up to the now-exposed second floor of the tower above.
"Lady Devy's voice seemed a bit strained, I wonder why. The tower seems safe and won't collapse."
Gives Sharpe a flat look.
Sharpe cautiously climbs the mound of rubble and examines the second floor.
Sharpe skillfully clambers up the ramp without dislodging even a single stone.
Tiger joins Sharpe up on the second floor. After a bit of stumbling, so does Sir Florace.
"Gentlemen, a hand with this beam, perrhaps?"
Certainly. Florace tries to move it out of the way.
With a few grunts, you're able to move the heavy beam out of your way. As you toss it aside, a cloud of stone dust is scattered into the air, making it difficult to breath for a few seconds.
"What do your tiefling eyes see?"
"Corpses. Small, scaly thingss. Kobolds, I believe. From underground, perhaps. Also, this iss a room, with closed doors."