Ah, shame. he replies. Well not a huge amount. Urnsul was a bit of a loner it seems, didn't have many friends and that sort of thing.
She was working on Rodrick's Hopeknife but all of a sudden she just quit her work there at the smith. Very curious. And more than a smidge suspicious.
So we wondered if she might have come this way.
Shivarra scowls at him for the vague answer, crossing her arms under her impressive bust.
"Where does she live? Where is she from? Morninghawk would have to know at least this much of her worker, and we'll want to search this Urnsul's place and talk to people who have spoken to her next, among other things."
The guards have seen no one matching Urnsul's description.
Yverstrix waits a moment, until out of earshot, then sighs, "That would be adding to the likelihood of the 'loose ends' scenario."
Sam seems to not notice any barb in the way Shivarra talks to him but just the same is taken aback by Malthu's sudden defence.
Well we know Rodrick was working on something rather secret. Dr Ballard muses. And if something is secret there are usually people who would prefer it stay that way - hence the letter.
I'm going to see if I can find Brinya, it may even be that she hasn't heard the sad news yet. he says.
Sam is able to discover that Brinya Kelver occupies humble rooms in a boarding house just northwest of the Commons (area D).
Yverstrix waits a moment, until out of earshot, then sighs, "That would be adding to the likelihood of the 'loose ends' scenario."
"Not necessarily," Mortoth counters. "Remember, if our interpretation's right, this is an actual conspiracy, with at least 3 people involved, and Rodrik's murder was only a side effect. They're looking for something inside Trunau, and seem to be having difficulty locating it. If Urnsul is a member of the conspiracy, then she might still be here simply because they're still looking for whatever it is they seek."
Before Sam and his companions depart, Mortoth hands off the hopeknife receipt to the explorer, then turns to the others. "I'm thinking we need to know what it was that Rodrik was researching," the bounty hunter says. "Doesn't seem that he told his brother, but perhaps this Omast fellow has some idea. That's where I'm heading - you feel like coming along?"
"I'll go as well," the witch nods to Mortoth. "Not only Rodrik's work appears to be relevant, but I also refuse to believe that in a town this small and warlike it is possible for no one know where a given person lives. Hopefully a patrol sergeant would know whom to ask.
Doctor Ballard shuffles his feet slightly as he walks and he wrings one hand over the other as if deciding whether to say something or not to the massive half-oc beside him.
In the end he decides it is only right and proper that he should;
I..uh... that is... ummm. I wanted to say 'thank you' for speaking up for me just now. I, um... I know I'm not especially welcome here by most folk. They think me a damned fool. But that woman is... quite disarming. And so, I thank you. he says awkwadly.
I'm a pretty good shot. I mean, I've never fired at a person per se. Well, my dig team once disturbed a ghoul in some Barrows outside Chastel. I hit it square in the chest! he says proudly.
That didn't slow it down one jot so I ran like bloody Hell. he adds with a frown.
But I won the University archery championships two years running.
Sam strolls through the streets as though he is talking a walk in the park, politely saying 'Hello' to half a dozen people who have never seen him before and remarking what a lovely morning it is to a few others more.
When they reach the boarding house he looks around for someone who appears to work there and asks;
Good morning! I wonder if you could point me in the direction of Miss Brinya Kelver?
Grod will stick to following Shivarra, rhino at his heels.
Grod, Shivarra and Mortoth (and a rhino!) go in search of Omast. Trying the barracks first, they find that he has been assigned to cleaning graffitti off of the walls and towers. It is late in the afternoon by the time they find a very drunk Omast, hanging upside down from a rope, trying to scrub a white mark off of the central tower. It looks like it might be a sword?
Meanwhile, Sam and Malthu quickly find the residence of Brinya Kelver. She comes to the door and says "Hello?"
Sam quickly removes his hat and smoothes back his unruly hair, tucking the longer locks behind his ears.
Ah hello, Miss Kelver I presume? My name is Samuel Ballard. I'm terribly sorry to do this, to be the bearer of bad news that is, tragic news really... umm.. it's concerning the young Captain, Rodrick - I'm afraid he was found dead this morning.
"Were you friends of Rodricks?"
The doctor shakes his head.
Sadly, no. In fact I only met him last night myself. But Kurst asked us to to look into his death. Well, the circumstances around it that is.
You see there are certain facts of the matter that are... that is... were, out of keeping. In short we think that Rodrick's death was no accident, nor a suicide.
May we come in for a few moments? I know this is a difficult time but if there is anything you can tell us about what he was working on it would help immeasurably I'm sure.
"What!?! Come in, please!"
She leads you inside to a sitting room. "Now what is this all about?"
Mortoth squints up at the suspended guardsman. "Ho there!" he calls up. "You're Omast Rast, yes? Can we talk to you for a moment?"
"Talk? Sthhure! Buy (hic) me a drink?"
Sam follows the lady inside, glad that Malthu was with him.
Thank you. he says as he enters, following her into the sitting room. After they have settled a moment, he plucks up the courage to meet the expectant woman's gaze and continues;
There is no easy way to say this so I'll just come right out with it. he breathes. It's better to just say it rather than beating around the bush, that doesn't do anyone any good. No, it's like pulling off a sticking bandage, better to just pu....
He suddenly feels the weight of Brinya's stare and he shakes his head as though clearing cobwebs.
He was poisoned my lady. We have no doubt about it, while he was sleeping so he didn't suffer, though I know that will be no comfort to you.
We are trying to retrace his steps and his last activities and we found a note that suggests he was specifically targeted, probably because he was investigating something.
Did he ever mention his work to you? Or mention someone called Melire?
Malthu doesn't see anything of particular interest.
When Sam finally gets to his question, she tries to speak, but has trouble finding her words.
"Work, well, he was preoccupied with some sort of investigation, what he called “his greatest work”—the details of which he refused to share... he kept a lot of notes in his journal, though, but I don't know where that is."
She breaks down sobbing again. "Oh, this is all my fault! I was so mad at him I kicked him out last night... if only I hadn't gotten so upset."
Oh my dear, I'm sure that's not true. You mustn't blame yourself. Sam says, a comforting hand about to b placed on her shoulder,hovering, and then being removed again.
She might break my arm if she's at all like Shivarra
Did you argue last night? May I ask what about?
"He lost my hopeknife! I told him to go away until he at least made that right... if I had only known!"
She sobs with grief some more, and then starts babbling a bit of their history.
"We've been seeing each other for months, and Rodrik finally proposed - using his mother’s ring! But he still wouldn't tell his father. And then his father found out, and boy does he hate me! Well, all of us with orcish blood, I suppose. "
"And that damn investigation. Just so much! And now I see, none of it mattered..."
More tears. More grief.
Dr Ballard frowns as a hopeknife is once again brought up.
I'm not from Trunau, Miss Kelver, so forgive me if I don't understand the hopeknife tradition fully. But there was a hopeknife found with Rodrik, made to look like he had used it to... you know... <cough>.
But that was before we found out he had been poisoned and also that he had commissioned a replacement knife. You must have meant a great deal to him for him to go to that trouble.
"That is not my Hopeknife... it looks like he was trying to create a new one. But it is clearly unfinished. He must have really lost mine..."
"Omast Frum... He was close to Rodrick. Or he also had a friend in the Sanctuary. Maybe he confided in one of them."
"Rodrik said he had a “thoughtful muse” there, but he never elaborated. I just assumed he was finding solace in devotion to Iomedae, but now I wonder if there really was someone at the church— someone who might know more about what happened to Rodrik, or worse, betrayed him!"
"That is not my Hopeknife... it looks like he was trying to create a new one. But it is clearly unfinished. He must have really lost mine..."
Your hopeknife? This is the one found with his body, isn't this Rodrick's?
"No, we exchanged hopeknives some time ago. Here is his," she says, pulling a chain from around her neck with a hopeknife attached. "Before I gave him mine, I had it inscribed... 'For Rodrick, my love.' This one has no inscription."
Thank you Miss Kelver, for speaking with us. Please don't blame yourself, that wouldn't do at all, and although I didn't know him, I'm sure Rodrick wouldn't approve of that. Sam says somewhat awkwardly.
With that, he says his goodbyes and he steps back out into the day, a little more confused than when he had started.
He turns to the warrior beside him and says;
Well we know he was working on something. But maybe this 'muse' at Sanctuary is the one to ask about it. Do you have the faintest idea to whom she might be referring?
Capital idea. Sam agrees wholeheartedly, and follows after malthu.
Yverstrix nods, "Agreed." And maybe we can be figuring out why somebody would be after going through all this... Revenge is usually after being too passionate for what we've been seeing....
Mortoth exchanges looks with his companions before replying, "We'd be happy to buy a few drinks for the man who helped our investigation... after he helped us."
Remembering the rumors he'd heard about the graffiti appearing around town, the bounty hunter allows himself to be distracted a moment trying to figure out what the sword-like symbol means, and perhaps why it seems to resist cleaning so intently.
"How curious. That's not any kind of paint some rabble could easily get - it's been specifically designed to resist removal. Most likely by a spellcaster, at that," the witch observes as she examines the subject of Mortoth's attention. "An odd choice of symbol, though. In this town it is too likely to be associated with the cult of Iomedae, and trying to cast aspersions on the Sanctuary in this fashion would be obviously futile. Unless whatever we're looking at isn't supposed to be related to the Sanctuary at all?"
Grod has been fairly quietly, being not particularly learned in religion or alchemy, but right then an idea strikes him. He looks away, outside the town, then back at the group. "How far away do you think these marks might be seen? Could they be some form of crude signal to someone outside the walls?"
Mortoth rubs his tusk thoughtfully, looking at Grod. "Maybe not outside the walls, but perhaps inside it?" he suggests. He looks up to Omast again. "Master Frum, can you come down from there for a moment so we can speak more comfortably?"