Grinner lets out a warm smile and smacks his lips a little. "I'm always up for helping people and a little adventure." *Ribbet* "Takes me away from the mundane."
"As long as there's coin in it that matches the risk, I'm in. Say Grinner, you have anything in that bag of tricks of yours for a fellow feeling a bit out of sorts? My brain is a bit messed up by that dreamspun mess thing and my usual charm and personality seems to be lacking some of its usual sparkle. I think we should check out that place this thing came from."
Terry cases heightened awareness on himself from a wand just in case.
"Say, any of you know who that guy is? Was he a drug user?
"Mayhaps. Is it affecting you all that much?"
...
Charisma: Damage to your Charisma score causes you to take penalties on Charisma-based skill checks. This penalty also applies to any spell DCs based off Charisma and the DC to resist your channeled energy. A character with a Charisma score of 0 is not able to exert himself in any way and is unconscious.
"No, hardly at all. Just not feeling quite right is all. If you think it best, it can wait."
As the creature howls in pain from the the dwarf's attack and collapses, he sees the spirit of the creature dissipate into the ether. "Hmm... these fellows aren't that bad." he remarks to himself.
Moving back to the square, Reigan searches the ground.
As he kicks over a few fallen barrels and such, he can't find his bolts. With a shrug, he turns to Cherry Terry. "Aye, let's get in there and put down whatever is sending these foul creatures into our realm." Reigan adds. "Usually, there are quite nice spirit treasures from high-level evil entities..." he says with a glint in his eye.
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Showing mild interest in her proposal, the Captain begins to escort you to Magistrate Drune's office in the old city hall. One the way she stays mostly silent about what is happening. When asked about the bodies identity her eyes flit over in a mild look of surprise. He wasn't important, but his uncle is.... And she leaves it at that.
*******************************************************
The official in charge of investigating the spate of recent deaths is Magistrate Stainton Drune, Korvosa’s Magistrate of Civic Order. He is a short, rotund man with thinning, greasy hair and a patchy mustache. Captain Crandon leans in and further explains to the Magistrate what happened and your role in the situation. he smiles and huffs as he begins into his pitch.
“Bridgefront is suffering a plague unlike anything seen since the days of the blood veil. It is as insidious as any disease, and we believe each death is feeding an unholy blasphemy: a terrible idol worshiped by a dangerous cult known as the Brotherhood of the Spider. We now know that this cult has not only seized control of the shiver trade in Old Korvosa, but may also be slowly poisoning the neighborhood’s wells, driving a flood of new addicts among our city’s most desperate and causing terrible nightmares among innocent citizens.”
The magistrate’s office has already correlated circumstantial evidence linking the deaths to the local shiver supply. In almost every instance, the dead were known users of the drug, and all had ash-gray corpses, so authorities have concluded that the deaths are the result of the users overdosing.
I assure you that, with the outrage sparked by the death of the Magistrate of Commerce’s nephew, the man you recently just laid to rest, I will have all the funding and permission necessary to pursue
the cult with vigor. My proposal is simple: You are to gather any evidence that ties Frell’s death to the Brotherhood of the Spider, and locate and apprehend the dealer who provided the toxic narcotic. Once the proof is in hand, I promise, your expertise in
the supernatural will be needed to undermine the cult and disrupt the trade of this dangerous substance. “If you can find the den where Frell died, you can find the dealer,” he says. “And if you can find the dealer, there is little doubt you will also uncover proof of the cult responsible for poisoning the wells and bringing nightmares to Bridgefront’s citizens.”
Drune offers you a reward of 8,000 gp to the party if they can acquire evidence of the cult’s connection to Frell’s death and help bring the cult to justice. There have been some two dozen deaths in as many weeks as of late.
"That's a serious mission you have on hand for us." *Ribbet* "It's horrible that they are addicting innocent people."
"Related, I recommend any of you with waterskins immediately dump them out. I will refill them with my magic."
The search proves fruitless, but the offer from the captain makes Terry's day.
"I think I speak on behalf of all of us when I say we accept your offer! I think our first step is to question the family and go trolling for info on drug dens. Should we get a letter of introduction or is the Magistrate of Commerce expecting us?"
"Since we're hoarding spells, shall we visit a temple to heal up our wounds before we stick our necks out again?"
"I wish there were a better way to glean the information, rather than visit the wretched den of iniquity, but it appears there is no better option at the time."
He turns to the grippli. "Your magic doesn't summon fetid bog water, does it? If it is pure, then that is a clever suggestion."
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None in Bridgefront have escaped the plague of restless dreams. Posters for missing persons are wearily tacked up by glassy-eyed relatives, while lines for the district’s mobile coffee vendors—their hulking, spigoted barrels strapped over their shoulders— grow increasingly long. There is nodding recognition of everyone’s “hag-ridden” appearance, and in every market stall citizens speak of vivid, lifelike nightmares.
The city guards’ “hogslop” comments lead the group to look into local shiver dens in search of Frell’s dealer. Bridgefront is lousy with these dens, and you could easily spend weeks sifting through their hog pens looking for clues.
Grimnir asks around for information about the drug dens, but it's clear he has also been asking about getting himself a drink. He doesn't turn up with anything useful, though he does turn up with a tankard of ale.
meh.
Terry describes the man they are tracking backwards to the den, but since the only time he saw him he was a bit the worse for wear, he's not sure he's making much progress.
Also he has not been in the city for very long. Hard to relate with all the problems when he's an outsider. Still, he's a nice enough guy and polite and all.
Hope the Paladin's doing better. They always have a way with words!
Grinner, not being the best at asking around, tries to help someone else by staying in the back and interjecting how important it is to us to know this information.
Gerard also speaks with his contacts, asking about this Frell individual and his common haunts. He wasn't a fan of such places, but to complete his task, he soldiered through.
Diplomacy
Reigan looks to the group as they split off to find information and the man shrugs. "Oi! Meet at the Ticklefish Tavern in an hour. Cherry can give you directions!" yells Reigan to the group as they head further into the town's center.
"I am going to pay a visit to the outer boroughs..." he says as he disappears to the north, down a side alley.
---
An hour later, Reigan meets up with the boys at the Ticklefish Tavern and the keen observer notes some flecks of blood on his shirt that weren't there during their fight with the Hungry Fog. "So what did we find?" he asks.
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Splitting off in all directions the group spends several hours speaking with the locals.
Though Grinner, Grimnir and Terry weren't able to find out any specific drug dens that Frell used to frequent they do come across other tidbit's beard about town.
A half-dozen shiver users have hanged themselves within the infamous Fever Dream Alley (area B) in the last two weeks. Authorities ruled the deaths suicides, dismissing the thousands of tiny bites covering the corpses as “lice infestation.” Nearby vagrants report, however, that “the spiders got ’em”
The corpses of three young women were found drifting among the rotten piers of the Narrows, where authorities claimed they drowned after taking shiver while swimming. Their hideously crushed and broken bodies were attributed to the sea smashing them against the piers
To date, three victims have been discovered who were partially devoured, and authorities claim that the sleepwalking addicts must have been so malnourished and intoxicated as to unknowingly gnaw themselves to death. Others question why their faces were frozen in terror, and why the bites looked more bestial than human jaws allow
Citizens found two Night Market esoterica dealers dead in their stalls, their throats slit and bloody daggers still in their hands. Authorities say it is a typical manifestation of a shiver overdose gone horribly wrong, where users slit their own throats while hallucinating. Witnesses maintain the dealers’ associated with Barvasi’s Band—known Brotherhood allies and shiver dealers. Yet others claim one of Barvasi’s gang was looking to sell something desired by dark powers.
Meanwhile Gerard and Reigan's search proves a bit more fruitful as they narrow down Frell's hangout's to two dens. the Soiled Sow and the Rook’s Roost.
"Glad you guys found something. People didn't like how I smelled. I can't help the incense! I sell herbs!"
"Regardless, Good work! I have a proposed method of finding where they are..."
"Alphabetical order? Rook's Roost before Soiled Sow?" Grinner grins. He seems to already be assuming that this is a cohesive team.
"Would you rather have a broken leg or a broken arm? Neither is better than the other. The Roost is a good a place to start as any," Gerard rolled his eyes. "Let's go break this criminal ring..."
"Why not."
I'm thirsty. Should've gone with Grimner and gotten a drink or two. Hope these inns have decent drink and not just that damned Shiver stuff."
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Rook's Roost isn't difficult to find as many people quickly point you in the right direction.
Wooden stairs crawl up an alley wall toward a second story awning that shelters a stout iron door roughly etched with blackbirds. Strange scents waft from the door’s barred porthole, and a thick haze blankets a large room within that is crammed with cots and couches.
Among the most well established of Old Korvosa’s shiver dens, Rook’s Roost provides customers with a large common room some 60-feet square, littered with cots and sofas, or a choice of private rooms, each secured by a barred door. The establishment’s back door opens to an alley balcony above a 20-foot-square pigsty, home to ten fat hogs rooting through a slurry of cracked bones, muck, and other detritus.
Enforcers at the barred and locked door of the establishment bar entry.
Reigan moves up to the enforcers at the entrance to the Rook's Roost and leans against a nearby wall, taking selective bites from a red apple in his hands. "Greetings, boys." he says with a grin.
Crunch!
He takes a bite of his apple and chews methodically before swallowing. "Me and my crew would like to... partake. Care to let us get inside?" he asks as he fingers his gold pouch. When the enforcers notice the obvious movement of his hand, Reigan gives them a wink. "I'm sure you won't be sorry."
Terry casts a heightened awareness before approaching the door and tries to act like he blongs. Take 10 bluff for 16.
Grimnir takes a long drink from his tankard and begins to look tipsy.
"Aye, it's bin too long."
Gerard sneered. It would be so easy to crush this petty thug's mind, but that would create undue chaos for the group. I must complete the job, he tells himself, trying to not lose his temper. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out two gold pieces and hands them over to the man.
Grimnir reaches into his belt pouch and pulls out the required coins.
"When ye need it ye need it," he groans and hands over five gold.
"Here ya go." Grinner takes out 5 gp and hands it over.
Terry shakes his nearly empty purse and says "looks like I'm waiting out here. Unless you want to give a first-timer a break? I mean, these guys are paying..."
because he actually does have exactly 5 gp
to wheedle his way in with his charm.
If there are no breaks given, Gerard sighs loudly and pulls out three more gold pieces and tosses them to the thug.
Reigan smiles at the man as his men process into the building after paying their five gold pieces. He drops the necessary gold pieces into the man's hand as he enters the building as well. "Good day, chaps." he says, as he moves past Cherry, who seems bound up with the other men.
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The guard grabs Terry's arm. Ye cause any problems and I'll be calling the boss... first timer.
Turning around he raps on the metal gate three times and it is unlocked and opened from within. The gate is quickly closed behind you all after you pass through.
You walk into what is essentially a large common room appointed with thick curtains, cushioned divans, and once-decadent finery now soiled and shabby. Customers navigate the crowded room to take their pick of any available cot and indulge in their vice. Those who don’t fall asleep can immediately exit for a partial refund of 4 gp or stay and enjoy the security for the duration of their high. Those who sleep can rest easy knowing that Asnaan’s enforcers will prevent them from being awakened prematurely. Those who die during their dreams have their bodies discreetly dumped in Asnaan’s back alley pigsty, giving rise to the locals’ derisive “hogslop” moniker for Bridgefront junkies. The environment does have its benefits: the mix of incense and comfortable atmosphere increases the duration of shiver intoxication by 1 hour within the establishment’s walls. Private rooms and personal guards are available to the Roost’s more genteel clientele.
The establishment’s back door opens to an alley balcony above a 20-foot-square pigsty, home to ten fat hogs rooting through a slurry of cracked bones, muck, and other detritus.
matching Frell Tann’s silk shirt lying in the mud.
Sitting in a room overlooking a good portion sits a man behind opaque thin curtains. He is an aging and frail Vudrani with a deeply creased face crowned with a bright red turban. A bushy mustache curls upward, and he speaks with a thick Vudrani accent. This must be the owner of the fine establishment, Asnaan Sharoosh.
"See what I see?" as he gestures towards something in the pig pen.
Perception
Through his ever present kerchief, shielding his delicate nose from the awful scent, Gerard points out two distinct clues. "That red scrap of fabric matches Frell's shirt. And even more, that half eaten finger had a ring with the Tann family's crest on it. I think we've found out what happened to Frell's body.".
"Since I found it, one of you need to go collect that ring as evidence, I think."
"I missed the ring. Good eyes Gerard. Any of you have a mage hand spell? Will that even work? Or maybe Grinner can charm one of the pigs? I'd go in, but hey, I was told to stay out of trouble! You heard the guard."
Terry fastidiously adjusts his clothing.
Gotta put that prestidigitation spell on my body one of these days. Soon.
"Sorry. Charms aren't my thing. I could have a different spirit inhabit me tomorrow, but today I am more about firepower."
Grinner eyes a fly on the wall, sticks his tongue out, and has a little snack. They'll appreciate the reduction of flies, I hope.
Reigan looks to the other four with incredulity. "Surely, you jest." he says with a scoff. "I surely cannot leap off a balcony into a muddy pit full of flesh-eating pigs and survive." he says as he peers over the ledge.
"Perhaps we keep investigating the dealer and retrieve the ring tomorrow morning after the nightly activites have died down." he posits as he wanders back inside without waiting for an answer.
He scans the room and looks for anyone who looks suspicious, preferably not a customer or a bodyguard.
Grimnir looks at the heap, including the hand his sharp-eyed companion pointed out, with disgust.
Still, he turns his back on the grippli so he can do his work, and instead goes to talk to the proprietor.
"Ye know wa we're here...we're lookin' fur a high an' a safe place tae relax. Whit can ye dae fur us?" the dwarf asks, perhaps too eagerly.
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Asnaan Sharoosh twirls the end of his mustache and smiles. In a thick accent he easily replies with a snap of his finger to one of the guards who hands Grimnir a small bag containing what looks to be shiver.
Take this and find a nice comfortable spot on the cushions here. Enjoy your sample and relax. You are safe here.
Gerard moves toward the proprietor. "While the others partake in their vices, if we wanted to have a discussion of a private nature, would you be willing to talk to us?"
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Reigan decides to play along with the farce until he spies something to tie the dealer to the Brotherhood of the Spider. He finds a couch and waits for Gerard finish with Asnaan, not wanting to directly associate himself with the man at the moment. He keeps his eyes peeled for any possible evidence, however.
Terry tries to move into position to overhear Asnaan's discussion.
While Gerrard is talking , Grinner is going to climb on the wall and see how difficult it's gonna be to get the ring.
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"While the others partake in their vices, if we wanted to have a discussion of a private nature, would you be willing to talk to us?"
I am always willing to speak of business. What is it you have in mind?
As Gerard begins to speak with the proprietor Grinner scampers across the wall with his suction-like fingers and disappears out the back with not a soul noticing.
Asnaan gets a bit distracted as he sees Terry wandering and stumbling closer. Snapping his fingers he nods to one of the guards. His shiver didn't take hold. Sit him down in the corner and make sure he doesn't hurt himself. Asnaan grimaces and tosses one of the small vials to the guard. Here's another dose. Make sure he takes it and gets a good rest.
The guard grabs ahold of Terry's shoulder and guides him back to the corner, sitting him back down on a pile of cushions. The guard gently tosses the vial of shiver into Terry's lap as he looks down at him and crosses his arms.
Meanwhile Asnaan turns back to Gerard. As you were saying....
"If you are fine with discussing discreet information here, then that is fine. Ive been hired to find a fellow who was purported to be a shiver efficiando, a kid named Frell. The Tann family is looking for information on him. Let's be blunt...I've narrowed his haunts down to you and one other pleasure house. Do you recognize the kid?"
Sense motive on answer
"If you are fine with discussing discreet information here, then that is fine. Ive been hired to find a fellow who was purported to be a shiver efficiando, a kid named Frell. The Tann family is looking for information on him. Let's be blunt...I've narrowed his haunts down to you and one other pleasure house. Do you recognize the kid?"
Sense motive on answer 1d20+11