Yverstrix frowns, his expression puzzled, "Would it be that Brinya wasn't after having the coin to pay for the knife herself? Or would there be a chance that Rodrik was trying to save face somehow?"
I don't think it's terribly romantic for the chap to buy a hopeknife inscribed to himself even if his good lady couldn't afford the coin. I think I agree that it's more likely that he lost the hopeknife Brinya gave him and rather than admit that he sought a replacement. Sam answers Yverstrix.
I mean wouldn't you want your lady to think that the gift she gave you were the most important thing in the world to you?
Sam looks somewhat crestfallen then.
Whatever the truth of it, if this Brinya were his love then I think she should hear the news of Rodrick's death from someone sympathetic, rather than through the rumourmill. If it isn't too late for that of course.
Before he leaves, he moves to the window of the room and looks out.
The window is locked. While it seems a reasonable climb, there is nothing to suggest that it was used recently.
"Unless magic was involved, that suggests our hypothetical killer entered through the door. We might want to try to get a tally of everyone in the building between the time Rodrik retired and when his body was discovered," Mortoth suggests.
"Unless magic was involved, that suggests our hypothetical killer entered through the door. We might want to try to get a tally of everyone in the building between the time Rodrik retired and when his body was discovered," Mortoth suggests.
I quite agree Mortoth, if I may call you by your first name. Sam says, quite agreeably. Perhaps the lady - Shivarra was it? - has been able to establish if Rodrick had any visitors.
I must say, you seem to have a singular eye, if this sort of investigation your profession?
"I see. I understand you keep records of the guests. I'd like to study them," Shivarra tells the innkeeper. She should be able to make a list of people who had a room rented during Rodrick's stay, and especially those that have left abruptly during that time.
Cham hems and haws at Shivarra's comments, then finally agrees and lets her see the registry. None of the names stand out, but one room has no name.
Malthu confirms that there are basic locks on the doors, but sees no evidence that it was tampered with.
I must say, you seem to have a singular eye, if this sort of investigation your profession?
Mortoth's laugh is really just a barking noise. "I find things people want found. Typically someone else decides who's a murderer and send me out to bring them back for the sentence; this is a new experience for me."
Yverstrix chuckles at Malthu, "Well, it's after being clear the door wasn't smashed down, which says something.... Or, at least, eliminates one type of invader.... It doesn't tell us if he let his attacker in, or if they were having a copy of the key... or lockpicks."
"Hmmm, a copy of the key. Interesting idea. Perhaps we should check whether or not any of the staff here had any particular history with Rodrik?"
"We can safely assume that the innkeeper has a copy, as it was she that found the body," Mortoth notes. He glances around the room, then shrugs. "I've seen all that I think I am likely to here. Perhaps we should check in with, ah, Shivarra?"
Shivarra is easy to find, being near the front door and standing over Cham in a very intimidating fashion. Cham appears a bit unnerved.
"An anonimous reservation? Is such a thing common?" Shivarra starts with an obvious outlier, other names requiring much more time to investigate.
Sam senses that the conversation is becoming more like an interrogation.
It's ok, miss, we are just trying to find out what happened to Rodrick. he smiles. And understanding who came and went could go a long way to telling us if this was something more than just a tragedy. Please, could you tell us about this reservation?
Not caring to merely repeat the others, Grod silently steps up behind and to the side of Shivarra and crosses his thick arms over his chest.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Sam senses that the conversation is becoming more like an interrogation.
"Yes, fine! I mean no, of course not. I mean... well, the man paid me..."
Cham breaks down into fearful sobs and quickly explains herself. “He refused to give me his name,” she manages between gulps of air, “and he paid me a fistful of gold. He said he’d be gone before sunrise. I didn’t ask any more questions. I had no idea that something like this would happen!”
The halfling can give a general description of the man - tall, human, dark hair - but she doesn’t remember any specific features that would really help identify him.
"Which room," Mortoth interrupts the sobbing.
"Of course, follow me." The halfling leads you to another room, and lets you in.
It is much the same layout - a bed, desk, small wardrobe, 2 chairs.
"Malthu, will you check to see if the desk has that same hidden drawer as the other desk?" Mortoth asks, as he begins to search the rest of the room.
Malthu does not find the secret compartment.
Frustrated, Malthu starts taking our drawers, turning them over, pulling on knobs, etc. Eventually, he does find a secret compartment.
Inside is a letter. (See exhibit B)
Aha! Sam says excitedly. The same boyish excitement he always felt when he made some sort of discovery. So now we have a name!
But it seems to me that if he was aware of what Rodrick was "poking around in," he would have mentioned it. Perhaps the good captain confided in his beloved though.
He flicks a lock of wild hair out of his eye.
I take it this Melire isn't familiar to any of you Trunians... Trunauites.... natives?
Grod shrugs at the woman's name. "Never heard of her. But then, I haven't been in town long. We should definitely ask around though. I still think we need to visit the smithy at some point, as well."
Oh quite. Sam agrees eagerly. Yes, absolutely.
"Efficient," Mortoth approves. "I agree."
Yverstrix nods, "That does be looking like an admission of murder... Or, at least, of planning to.". He pauses for a moment, the skin around his eyes tightening as he concentrates on the name, then he finally shrugs, "I'm not after being a native... But I'm not knowing the name that I can remember... I don't be supposing any of you are having a bloodhound or even a hunting dog?"
He nods at the suggestion, "That does be seeming like a good use of time.. and I do think that having a weapon is always a good idea."
Grod almost dismisses Yver's question about dogs out of hand, but then he pauses. Hmm. Y'know, Cera might be able to... "Are you looking to track the killer by scent? Cera has a good nose on her. It's worth a shot, I guess."
"Scent tracking within a town this long after the target left would be unreliable, if at all possible," the witch comments. "I will speak to the gate guards as well. They are likely to know who are the outsiders in the town at this time, and if there have been any unusual comings and goings at odd times."
You head to the Sanctuary, and it is a quick walk.
"May I help you?" asks a priestess, as you enter.
Good morning sister, I hope you're well. the doctor says, stepping forward and removing his wide-brimmed travelling hat as a mark of respect. As he does so a mop of brown hair topples over his eyes and he awkwardly pushes it aside and offers a wan smile.
We've come on grave business.... oh, that's a terrible pun, I beg your pardon. Completely accidental too. he adds, flushing now. That is to say, Kurst sent us, or rather requested us, look into the circumstances of his brother's death.
<Ahem!> I wonder if we could trouble you to inspect the body perhaps?
Sam takes a step back and looks up at the giant half-orc.
You two know eachother? Thank Abadar... he mumbles in quiet gratitude that Malthu seems to have dug him out of a hole.
"Of course, brother Malthu. Come in, we have the body down in the basement."
She leads you down, and you find a few attendants finishing their preparation of Rodrick's body for the funeral. Rodrik appears to have died of blood loss after slitting his own wrists.
Mortoth bends over the body to take a look at the wounds and search for any other clues.
Sam strides into the room but, upon seeing the body, he bets a hasty retreat. Standing with his back to the wall he takes great gulps of air to steady himself.
It's strange... Two years ago my expedition found the tomb of Anuk-Hatep in The Parched Dunes. And I had no problem with the... bodies.... and mummies in there. But... he's so.... fresh!
"We're all clear that that man goes nowhere near the Mindspin Mountains, right?" murmurs Mortath to the others who remain in the room.
"I'll make sure to remind you about not tempting fate when you end up escorting him," snorts the witch.