Barring rain or someone inviting him along for more drinking and celebrating, the "slightly" inebriated Gnoll will spend the night outside so he can watch the stars.
With the evening winding down, and having to get Hvita out of trouble more than once, Lialda felt the day wearing on her. It was definitely time to go home. She slipped away when she could and made the walk to small house she had inherited from her mother. She slipped inside and threw the latch on the door behind her before. After preparing for bed she looked at Hvita and said, "Well my friend, another day is done and I live to see the next. It's been a good day." With that she lay down and pulled the cover up after Hvita jumped into bed with her snuggling up to the fox with and arm around her.
Kreagor shall stay at the Ramblehouse, his parents have never learned to appreciate him stumbling home drunk
Once everyone heads off to bed, the night passes with relatively little excitement. Cham Larringfass, the Ramblehouse proprietor, chased everyone out of the common room around midnight - so that decent Trunauans can get some sleep - and the place quieted down quickly. The sleep of wine and ale consumed most of the celebrators, and the entire town nestled in for a good night's rest. All but the watch, of course.
In the room, lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, lay Rodrik Grath. His wrists were deeply slashed, and a hopeknife was still held tightly in his right hand. Cham came running down the hallway, looked into the room, and blanched. He yelled, "Kaleb! Run and get the militia. Send 'em here as fast as they can get here. Tell them Roddy's killed himself." A young halfling nodded and ran out.
Cham looked at all the gawkers and said, "Well, what are you all standing about for? This isn't a circus set for your entertainment. A good man's death isn't something to stare at. Go about your busniess. We'll set breakfast out in a half-turn. Shoo!"
Brolga spent the afternoon with the brothers, just starting to feel comfortable with them. However, as he opened the door to the ramblehouse the sudden swell of noise and people sent him reeling.
"I , ah, just remember that I need to do s-something. I'll meet you all b-back here." The half-Orc quickly shuffles off and makes his way just outside of town. The small log cabin - made with the leftover wood he didn't sell - is waiting for him comfortingly. Brolga enters, jams the door shut with a large log, and spends the evening thinking back over all the people he interacted with that day. That wasn't so bad. They seemed to like me, I think?
Coming out of his room, Kreagor hears Cham yelling about Rodrik. Kreagor proceeds to go towards Rodrik's room, wondering if its true.
I find it hard to believe that Rodrik would do this. He was set to do great things with the militia
Hearing Garri's request Kreagor speaks up,
"Cham if there's any chance at all to save him it's Garri at this point, let him in to check"
Hopefully he lets us in, in case we can save Rodrik. I also find it hard to believe he would do this to himself...
If Cham will let Garri and myself in then I will go in to help Garri as much as I can. If I get in the room I will also take the chance to look around for anything indicating another person was in the room, or if there is anything obviously out of the ordinary/suspicious in the room.
Renliat comes out of his room squinting his eyes, quill in hand and fully dressed. He pushes back his lank hair with a look of confusion, then sees the crime scene and stares at it in dumb silence for about ten seconds. "Huh. Wow." He stands there staring unblinking at the scene and shakes his head slowly a few times. Then he feels it all hit him at once as his dinner from last night comes up and he turns into the hallway, dry heaving and bent over double. "Ed' i' Seldarine... He dry heaves again then stumbles down the hallway, pushing into his room and knocking over a table before reaching his alchemy supply.
A minute later, Renliat comes out of his room, looking even paler than normal. He has a quarter of a lemon in one hand and sucks on it as he walks out, going over to Cham. "I'm so sorry...I don't mean to pry or cause any hurt feelings, but perhaps I could help determine what happened."
Lialda woke up to the sounds of Gorkis already at work compounding his concoctions and the smell of his wife's cooking. Hvita was no where to be seen having long since woke up and made for the kitchen where all the food was. Rising from her bed Lialda made her way to the bath and got in, cleaning up good before coming out for breakfast. "It smells good Mrs. Meeson, flatcakes and sausage?" She didn't get any more of a response than a nod and smile, which was plenty for her, and busied herself helping. She ate her food quietly and rose when finished as she said, "Thanks, it was delicious. I'll be back in a while, it's time for our mourning meditations." With that she and Hvita, who had been snitching sausage all morning, slipped out the back door and made their way to the Hopespring.
As they arrived at their destination she saw Silvermane there and sign for good morning to him before sitting with Hvita on her lap and quickly dropping into a meditative trance as she and the fox stared deeply into each other's eyes. It took them around an hour to finish up and by then Silvermane was off doing whatever he did and the two began to make their way back to the apothecary to see what needed to be done.
From the hallway, it was difficult to see anything. The halfling shook her head at Garri and Kreagor, but did nothing other than prevent their entry into the room. The halfling does allow them to poke their heads in where they clearly see Rodrik's face a pale white, obvious that death had come hours before.
About the time that Kreagor half-talks entry into the room for Garri and himself a commotion can be heard off at the entrance. It wasn't long before the sound of running footsteps could be heard rapidly approaching. The clump, clump, clump of boots sounded on the stairway, and a trio of guards rounded the corner. In the lead was Kurst.
"Cham, what's going on? Someone said Rodrik was dead. What..." His voice trailed off as he reached the room and peered in the open doorway. Cham stepped aside as Kurst slowly stepped inside, staring at the body on the floor. Then, a sudden howl burst from the man, and he sank to his knees. "Roddy, noooooooooo!
He sobbed. "Who did this to you? I'll find him, and when I do he'll wish he had never been born to this earth!"
He started to grab the body to roll it over, but one of the other militia stopped him. "Sir! Perhaps the two of us should look him over. I mean, I know he's your brother, but you don't need to see him like this, do you? I mean, knowing he killed himself is one thing, but..."
Kurst flung the hand away and glared at the man. "Rodrik would never take his own life like this. He had everything to live for. I have never seen a man so alive. No, this is murder. Someone killed my brother and made it look like a suicide!" He caught the sight of Kreagor, and it seemed to take him off guard. [b]"I mean, um, Kreagor, you, umm. Well, you saw him yesterday and last night. Did he look suicidal to you? No he did not!"
Both of the other militia looked at him, then back at the body. The one who hadn't yet spoken moved to the body and gently picked up the hopeknife. He held it against the wounds on the left wrist, and specifically against a blood pattern there. It matched perfectly. "I'm sorry sir, but it's plain as day. He killed himself with his own hopeknife."
The morning started out well enough, with breakfast and getting started the day's various task. Work proceeded well, though you did hear some odd rumors about Rodrik Grath. At about ten o'clock, a messenger arrived, and told you that Kurst Grath wanted to meet you at the Ramblehouse as soon as possible. "Actually, he said 'right damned now' when I asked him, but I can't say that, now can I?"
"Um, you just did." Sarada flatly replied before heading off towards the Ramblehouse. Were they going to ask him leave the town? It seemed odd to send a messenger to ask him to come to a specific place to do so though rather than just have the messenger say that.
Lialda ran into the messenger about the time she'd finished her meditations at the Hopespring, "That's excellent timing as I can come now, I just finished my meditations for the day. I'll head there at once." She started to walk off as Hvita stuck her tongue out at the guard and gave him the raspberries. She looked back over her shoulder and said, "Hvita, behave yourself and come on, whatever's happening it sounds urgent." The fox dashed off and led the way to the Ramblehouse as she looked at the guardsman and mouthed the word "sorry".
Brolga had always been an early riser, and so he was well into clearing out a small number of trees when the messenger arrived. When he realised the messenger was urgent, he left straight away, leaving the felled tree and assorted logs exactly where they were.
I wonder what is up? He must be angry that I didn't come back last night. I know it was rude, I just couldn't though...
Renliat inhales the tart citrus for a moment to settle his stomach, then steps forward. "I'm sorry to interject, but I don't think we know enough to say for sure what happened. For instance, there is magic that can force one to kill themselves. It's at least a possibility that shouldn't be ruled out, considering his normally non-suicidal demeanor. If I could check the room for magic auras I might be able to shed some light..." Renliat suggests.
Over the course of the next hour Brolga, Sarada and Lialda arrive where Renliat, Kreagor and Garri are already gathered. The three who stayed in the Ramblehouse quickly bring those who didn't up to speed. When Kurst arrives he takes them aside to question them about Rodrik's mood the day before and if they had seen or heard anything that might explain his brother's death.
After he had done so, he looked at everyone gathered. "There are too many questions for me to write off Rodrik's death as a suicide. My brother would not do such a thing, yet with no obvious signs of foul play the militia cannot get involved. Especially as my father, as Commander of the militia is not going to handle Roddy's death well. The militia isn't a police force. It's more of a standing army that is geared towards fighting the orcs, and occasionally breaking up a tavern fight."
“I simply can’t handle the investigation and tend to my family duties at the same time. I may be a patrol captain, but right now, I feel my responsibilities as a brother outweigh my other duties. Still, I can’t just let this lie. I’m afraid I’ve exhausted all my other options—the members of Trunau’s militia are competent defenders during siege times, but they’re not sleuths by any means."
"I need your help. I want you to look into Rodrik's death. Find out what you can, and report to me every day with what you have learned. My brother was killed, I am sure of it. And yet, I have no idea where to start looking for his killer. You have shown yourselves resourceful, and some of you have skills that cannot be found in the militia. You've already taken an interest in this. Will you help me further? I can pay. Not much, true, but some."
Renliat listens quietly, resting his chin in the nook between his thumb and forefinger. Even in a lawless town such as this, politics are in play. He glances at the goblin and gnoll with them. And now I must work with these creatures. Wouldn't my father be proud. He quickly pushes away thoughts of his family and looks up at Kurst. "Don't worry about money, your goodwill is all that I require. I, for one, will do whatever I can to find the truth of the matter."
Why us? "This one will do what he can to help. This one will also take their share of the pay." Sarada offers with a bow. "I kid, I kid, this one will not ask for payment for this."
Brolga steps up to Kurst. "I liked Rodrik. I liked him a lot. He was kind, and warm, and bold. I can't t-take your money Kurst. Use it to give Rodrik the b-burial he deserves."
Kreagor listens to Kurst and finds himself feeling no hesitation in answering,
"I'm with the others on this, don't worry about the money. I want to see a good man get the justice he deserves."
comtemplating his next words for a minute, Kreagor asks of Kurst,
"I know this tragedy is still fresh in your mind. But what can you tell us of Rodrik's last few days. Was he doing anything out of the ordinary or get into any confrontations with people?"
Lialda considered and glanced down at Hvita who was sitting in her lap in consultation. It took only a moment before she said, "We'll help as well. You can keep my payment as well, this is a matter of grave importance, it'll cause problems that could make the town vulnerable, something we can all agree isn't needed." She looked around at the group and asked, "Has anyone examined the room yet?"
Renliat inhales the scent of the lemon again. "Briefly. I wanted to examine the scene, and I'm hopeful that I still can." he says with a glance to Kurst.
Kurst blows out a sign of relief as you all accept his task. "I cannot express my gratitude enough, thank you all for this. Trunau thanks you. "
He looks back towards the Ramblehouse and motions for you to follow him. "I've already informed Cham you will be returning to view the room. Follow me."
Once you are in the Ramblehouse and alone he continues, "You asked about Roddy's past few days. I suppose you should know relationships and such. I also suppose the secret doesn't matter now, but he was seeing Brinya Kelver. She's a half-orc - you probably already know that - and Father is too much of a bigot - hard to say, but it's true - to let him see her openly. Roddy wasn't to be dissuaded though, so he took their relationship out of open sight. It's why he lives here and not at home, I think. Easier to get to see her that way. Father and he had a huge row about it a few months back, and forbade any of the family to see her. I'd thank you if you could look in on her for me. Someone's bound to tell her of Roddy's death, and she'll take it hard."
"As for anything else, well, you know that white sword graffiti that's been painted everywhere? Roddy told me he was looking into that, seeings how no one can scrub it off. Some kind of magical hoojoo, and not something he'd seen before. Maybe Renliat or Lialda might know something about that?" He quirked an eyebrow at the wizard and witch.
As he was talking, the pair of guardsmen returned with a stretcher. They were obviously there to take the body away. Kurst holds up a hand to tell them to wait for a moment and nods to the party to proceed to enter the room. He explains that the room has been examined by multiple individuals.
This sparse room contains only a single cot and a writing desk. The cot is a cheap affair with a straw-stuffed mattress, now stained red with blood and stripped of its linens, while the desk is a slightly nicer piece of furniture that has nonetheless been chipped and worn by time. A cracked window in the southern wall is the only exit other than the room’s door.
"Please, stay and look over the room for clues if you need to. I'll tell Cham you're to have the run of the house. You might ask her if she saw anything strange? I don't know. I can shoot a bow and swing a sword, but knowing what questions to ask...? anyway, she'll not like it, but she loved Roddy as much as everyone else, I think. That's what makes this so damn difficult. I mean, Rodrik's run some criminals in, but we all have. Until this morning I'd have said not a soul in town would have a serious problem with him."
He checked on the militia's progress and coughed. The two men put Rodrik onto the stretcher and take him away. "I, um, need to go. I have to be there when Father sees him. This is going to be hard on him." Kurst excused himself, and began to walk from the room, already lost in grief once more.
"Something could have happened to Lady Brinya to make him do this, if he did do this, we should go check on her as soon as you are done here." Sarada flatly states.
So the little one is a... goblin? Reminds me of a pugwampi. I wonder what orcs look like.
A bigot against half-orcs in Trunau? That's out of place considering their normal acceptance of them. But the heart wants what the heart wants. We should question his love interest. He looks up. "Yes, we will check out the graffiti to see if anything can be learned."
Renliat reluctantly turns to the goblin. "Garri, was it? How long ago did it appear that he died?" As he asks this he scans the room and the surrounding area for magic.
So everyone in the town's a suspect basically. We've little to go on and naught to do but search the room and inspect some graffiti. Oh, and corner Rodrik's beau and ask her a few questions
Back at the scene of Rodrik's death Kreagor looks around the room carefully, paying special attention to the window, both inside and out, and Rodrik's desk. He take care to see if it looks like anything has been taken from the room in the last few hours, regretting the need to think of the militia as potential suspects.
Kreagor will use detect magic on everything, just to ensure there are no lingering auras... lingering...
After searching the room, Kreagor turns to the others,
"Have any of you found anything of importance?"
Lialda considered the issue of the marker dye and said, "I haven't looked at the stuff but I'll make sure that I do so. Perhaps we can figure out at least how to get rid of it." As the discussion continued and the body was brought out Lialda quickly shifted to her healer mode. She took her emotions and shoved them in a corner of her mind and then placed a block of thick ice over them to keep them out of the way for the time being. She carefully examined the body before it was moved looking for anything that might show signs of foul play.
When she finished with that task she moved on to examine the room, as did Hvita. It was unlikely she would spot anything out of the ordinary but Hvita was another matter entirely.
Lialda's check of Rodrik's body reveals much of the same information that Garri spoke aloud. The wounds look self inflicted, no signs of a struggle, time of death sometime in the night.
Kreagor's attempts at searching do not reveal anything of significance, though he does point out that the hopeknife covered in blood on top of the mattress was likely what Rodrik used to kill himself.
Lialda's attempts are more fruitful. Looking under the bed finds a scrap of paper stuck between the headboard and the wall. The scrap is a receipt for a new hopeknife from Morninghawk’s Fine Steel ordered by Rodrik. In addition, Lialda finds that the writing desk has a false bottom in the desk drawer, though the compartment underneath is empty.
Given the circumstances Sarada couldn't help but being nosy, being taller than most of the others present also unintentionally encouraged this.
Rather than speak up he simply read the discovered note quietly while the others went over the room. Why would he commission a dagger with his name displayed that way? I didn't know him that long but he didn't seem that egotistical to me. Maybe... it was supposed to be from Brinya... but he has the receipt... hmm...
Without saying a word the Gnoll will look over the hopeknife for any words or inscriptions that might be on it.
Sarada finds nothing of note on the hopeknife, it appears completely bland and ordinary in every way. The inscription notated on the receipt are not present on this knife.
Renliat nods as Sarada inspects the hopeknife for any inscription. "Somebody should question the innkeeper on who was in and out last night."
"Blood usually reveals, not hides..."
Renliat frowns when the hopeknife has no inscription.
"We should visit Sara as well. She might know something."
"Sara?"
Renliat detects no magic from anywhere in this room, but shouldn't be surprised since the body has likely been laying here for several hours now.
Lialda held up the scrap of paper and said, "This is interesting, another lead at least." Renliat's comment on the knife Rodrik had supposedly killed himself with and said, "This receipt says that it should have an inscription on it, are we sure this hopeknife was his?"
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** spoiler omitted **
Renliat detects no magic from anywhere in this room, but shouldn't be surprised since the body has likely been laying here for several hours now.
"We should question his family as well, and those close to him. Learn if his hopeknife..." Renliat breaks off. "No, Sara will know if this is his hopeknife. She made it, she makes all of them." He picks up the knife and examines it. "But first let's make sure we didn't miss anything."
"It says 'my love'," Sarada started, thinking aloud. "So it may have been from Brinya, but why does he have the receipt and not the knife? Perhaps, since his father did not approve of their relationship Rodrik had the knife commissioned himself so this Sara could not inform his father whereas if Brinya had it made?"
Renliat goes over the room a third time, taking his time and looking at every square inch of the room. Once he's satisified he has checked everything he notifies the party that he doesn't beleive there is anything additional to be found here.