Menrozzar stops aghast at the two halflings painting the wall. ”Wait! Please don’t cover that map up until I can look at it!”
The halflings exchange glances shrug in unison and move over to sit on one of the beds one producing a hip flask. On the remains of the map, on what might be the Sanctuary and the South Tower there are white crosses, or possibly swords with the hilt up? If the halflings had not already painted over the rest of the map maybe there were more.
”do either of you remember anything about this map? Perhaps an insight in these marks here and here” Edgar says as he points to the white crosses. in any event we need to check out sanctuary... perhaps it and the south tower are related somehow...
Brinya told you that Rodrik was visiting the Sanctuary on a regular basis, and the South Tower is part of Trunau's defences and so is presumably visited frequently by the militia Captains.
The halfling not swigging shrugs, "Err, not really might have been another of them crosses in the middle near the Commons? What does it matter just orc scrawlin's right?"
Menrozzar looks at the half a map, a sinking feeling in his stomach. A map of Trunau, with certain places marked off? Why would these places be so important to them? More importantly, where are they now? He didn’t know what it meant, but something didn’t sit well. He would have to inform Captain Kurst - perhaps he would have a better idea. Turning to the halflings, he asked, ”Do you know where the half-orcs are now?”
"Guests draw on walls?", Bupkis asked. "Why they do that? This room, or other rooms too?"
"Last two buggered off last night. Not long after you all got in, so I don't think they could have had anything to do with Rodrik. Seemed in a hurry, probably so we didn't get a chance to charge them for the bleedin' havoc they wrought in here." The halfling replies to Menrozzar, before turning to Bupkis,
"Nah, all bunkin' in here, probably asked for the cheapest rooms, and that means sharing."
Do ye Think anyone 'ere remember what they look like?
Ivan asks, as he rests on his shield.
Quietly Daseem pointed out, "We need to c-check the Sanctuary and the T-tower." He wrinkled his nose, 'What did they do in here?! This place still reeks, no scratch that I don't want to know. I can't help thinking this is all a prelude to something awful. What if they where in league with the orcs? Still that's quite a leap given the current evidence, maybe there's a more mundane explanation.'
"Too tall, greenish skin, half orcs, tusks maybe?" The halfling replies uncertainty looking to his companion who hands him the flask and adds,
"Prominent chins? I think one of the male ones was pretty fat?"
"Bupkis thinks we go Sanctuary now," the goblin agreed.
”I concur. Thank you for your time. If I could ask, please don’t finish painting over this graffiti yet. Others may want to take a look at it before you do.” He didn’t know if they would risk Cham’s wrath over it, but he had to try and give Captain Kurst a chance to see it.
"Chief guard guy dead. Hungry dogses set loose inside town. Map plannings on walls. 'Spicious peoples coming and goings." Scrabbler counted on his fingers.
"Orcses gonna attack."
”two half orcs, ladies I think, came in at about the same time as us last night,” Edgar says,” do you know if they were part of this group?”
i certainly hope you’re wrong Scrabbler...
Daseem glanced at Scrabbler and nodded, 'So! Maybe it's not just my paranoia? Well I suppose the writing is literally on the wall. Yeah time we got a move on.'
Daseem was turning to leave when Edgar asked his question, stopping in his tracks he thought, 'That might be important...'
The group head out into the fog again and make their way across to The Sanctuary, a bright white painted building that you all know has an upturned sword mounted atop the peak of its roof in tribute to Iomedae its patron goddess.
Entering the building a high ceilinged Chapel lined with pews and decorated with elegant minimalistic icons of the sword goddess. Tyari Vlavatos the strikingly beautiful young Priestess who runs the Sanctuary looks up from the altar where she stands stooped working on a sheet of parchment. She is blond, blue eyed, and willowy with a piercing stare and palpable air of nobility.
"Ah, Captain Kurst told me to expect you. Do you wish to see Rodrik's body? He is layed out below for the time being."
On the walk to the Sanctuary, Menrozzar thinks to himself, How is it still foggy? Surely it should have burned off by now.
”Thank you. We will in a moment, but we had a couple questions to ask first. We were told by someone that Rodrik said he had a muse here in the Sanctuary. Do you know if he spent a lot of time here, or if there was an area he spent a lot of time at?”
"He was visiting our patient, a half orc by the name of Katrezra, they would talk for hours, they were forever pawing over that journal of Rodriks. He was devastated by Rodrik's death, but I am afraid you have missed him, he left after hearing the awful news, though he is not very mobile, so I imagine he will be back shortly." Tyari says setting down her quill and approaching revealing flowing white robes and a longsword strapped at her side.
Bupkis knew they should examine Rodrik's body, although he didn't know what to look for; he had already seen the corpse once. "Bupkis seen body already. Tyari examine? Knives kill?
"Some ask poison — you know if Rodrik poisoned?"
When he heard that the patient that Rodrik had talked to had left the Santuary, he was immediately concerned. "Someone bring crazy wolves in Trunau — they attack us. Not safe by himself!"
"What, wolves? Is anyone injured?" Tyari asks her expression kind, but some skepticism creeping into her tone, "As for Rodrik, I am fairly certain he died from blood loss so I did not check for poison, and the cuts were consistent with a hopeknife. I suppose I could check tomorrow one I say my prayers again. As for Katrezra I am afraid I do not know where he went, feel free to wait for him if you wish.
'None of us have any medical training.' thought Daseem, 'I have no reason to mistrust Tyari's diagnosis so seeing the body once more is pointless. Lets hope we don't tarry here too long, we must investigate the tower.'
Softly Daseem replies to Tyari, "C-cubs more than wolves, mistreated, starving. Came in a w-wagon."
"Horrible. Perhaps someone was trying to host some sort of dog fight? What did you do with their bodies?" Tyari asks, "I will never understand how people can think such practices are acceptable, but dog fights do happen, and if they were as mistreated as you say they may be diseased. Would it be possible for you to dispose of them I know the Longhouse keeps a large fire going, or perhaps you could throw some oil around that wagon and burn them with it, a fire does not seem likely to spread. I have some oil you could use if you are willing?"
”that seems reasonable, disease is a terrible thing for a town to host.” Edgar says. especially if the Orcs are planning an attack.
”If you see Katrezra, please tell him we are looking for him and are staying at the Ramblehouse.” he says to Tyari with a smile.
Edgar looks to his companions, ”we should head to the tower and take a look around, on the way we can clean up the wolves and maybe scavenge anything of worth from the wagon.”
A cursory inspection of the wagon reveals that it is in far from good condition and is unlikely to be saleable without a considerable amount of work, or a creative argument to the right individual. It is a high wood walled cart with a ragged canvas roof, there is no beast attached, but it could likely be moved by strong men with some effort.
The wolves themselves are frail and pitifully light, more tragic than terrible in death.
Daseem nodded and took the oil when offered, muttering "We'll burn the carcasses." 'Why hadn't I considered they might be diseased? Should we have taken precautions?' Daseem wondered, 'What does this all mean? Could it have been a deliberate strategy to weaken the town? A prelude to invasion? Or am I reading way too much into what is simply a case of neglect and cruelty... Either way who would do such a thing?'
The wagon is about fifteen feet from the nearest building and with the rain and fog there seems to be little chance of a fire spreading.
Ivan grunts. Colour me half impressed ifn' ye get a fire to hold at all in this weather. Ivan says as he gives the cart a hard kick out of frustration. Having grumbled while they were constantly what seemed like just an hour too late for all of their leads.
”We need to go to the Longhouse before the South Tower. We need to see if Captain Kurst is there and tell him about the map.”
Bupkis agreed with Ivan, "Wagon wood wet; need big fire to burn. Otherwise go out. Pull wagon to Longhouse? But wagon too heavy for Bupkis."
Aye, the map has me worried. What would hooligans like that lot have need a map of the town for? An' why try ta cover it up at all? I don't like it, Lets go find Kurst. Ivan gives the cart another kick for good measure.
”I agree we must get to Kurst, but we can’t just leave this cart potentially riddled with diseases. I’m sure between Ivan, Menrozzar, Daseem, and Edwin we can get the cart to a place we can burn it.” Edgar says, hoping the stronger ones wouId comply.
"I'll help pull the cart to the Longhouse so we can burn the wolf bodies. Let's get them into the back of the wagon and then get moving. Quickly."
Morvan wanted them to hurry up with it, since there could be Orcs upon them at any moment.
"And does anyone know when this accursed fog will burn up?"
Edwin will move up next to Daseem and assist in pulling the cart.
Despite his small size, Bupkis joined in to help move the wagon. Mostly though, he just got in the way.
Despite nearly running over Bupkis the group manage to navigate through the fog to the Long house. The large firepit in the common room seems to be the most likely place to burn the wolves and only a single young man stitching his leather tunic occupies the room moving accomodatingly away you enter with the carcasses,
"Wow, you guys must be really hungry. You know we have a magic stone that makes as much porridge as we like here right?" He chortles, referring to the Siege Stone the artifact that has sustained Trunau through many a crisis.
Not that he said anything but Daseem wasn't best pleased by being asked to move the cart. 'Reduced to a beast of burden?!' he fumed internally. The thing was he could kind of see the logic to it, nobody really wanted to touch the carcasses so maybe it was best. Still he didn't like it and his anger lent him strength.
While the others pulled, he pushed from behind, "NNnuugh!" and with a great heave it started to move.
Menrozzar gives a chuckle at the guardsman’s jest. ”Unfortunately they need to be burned - in case of disease. Someone brought them into town in a wagon, then let them loose. Do you know where Captain Kurst is?”
"Better eat porridge than disease meat," Bupkis replied to the guardsman. The idea of porridge was disgusting, but Bupkis wasn't keen on finding out if the wolves were a deliberate attempt to infect the town.
Those familiar with the militia recognize the man as Pool Whitlocke, a hard working, but rather uncoordinated young man, who has inherited his fathers ability as a cook, for better or worst. If you want something hot and salty his cooking gets the job done without being burnt or undercooked, which is about as close to haute quisine as Trunau gets.
"Aye, Captains upstairs arguing with the Patrol Leader. I would leave it a while if I were you... Feel free, don't use this for cooking much and fire purifies in any case. I can let Captain Kurst know if you don't want to wait."
The fire pit is large enough to accommodate all three of the small canine forms, and the brittle bodies burn swiftly giving off a foul smell that dissipates quickly enough in the large common room.
The militia man gives Bupkis a mildly affronted look, "You can do a lot with porridge you know, goes well with most anything, bacon, snails, bird, acorns, fish, venison... Boar. And especially salt. Honey at a pinch."
Aye, porridge can be made ta' test mighty fine.
As they start to burn the wolf bodies he waves a hand infront of his face.
By the stone that stinks. He moves further away from the fire pit.
I think, that we be needin' ta' talk to Kurst. Ifn' ye would be kind enough ta' get him fer us. Ivan looks to the militiamen and gives a nod.
Scrabbler took a long, happy whiff of the burning dog smell. "Mmmm. Now me's hungry."
Ivan gives a slight look of disgust at Scrabblers comment.
Blasted goblins... He mutters under his breath.
Edgar covers his nose with his sleeve,”I agree master dwarf, we need to speak to Kurst, perhaps away from this fire?”
"We be careful!", Bupkis urged. "Kurst argue with father, Bupkis think. Father argue with Rodrik, before."
"Ha, nope. You can wait, or you can try going up, I suppose," Pool says, his tone and expression indicating that he would not suggest doing so.
Those of you in the militia are aware that the upstairs officers quarters is strictly off limits as a rule, you have almost certainly never been up there. Jagrim is a stern rigid man who is much keener than his sons on maintaining rigid discipline. He is probably the most powerful single individual in Trunau, in authority as part of the Council and head of the Militia, and rumor has it in combat. A few of you might have sparred with him, Ivan certainly has, but he was never serious and was still capable of easily matching you.
Pool rises squints at his work on thee tunic and nods, "Anyway I need to get lunch started, be about an hour if you are wanting any. Going to be lamb, bread and dripping, and blood sausage," he looks to Bupkis, "porridge. Maybe carrot mash."
Not being familiar with the militia rules, Edgar looks to Menrozzar, Daseem, and Ivan for direction.
Ivan will sigh. best not ta' anger them anymore. Or give 'em reason ta reprimand us. I'd rather keep in what little good graces I am in with Jagrim. Not much ta' be done bout it.
Ivan then sits down and pulls out what looks like a schematic paper. He finishes up making notes and a few sketches. If anyone looks, he appears to be finishing blueprints on what seems to be plans for full plate armor.
Over the next ten minutes a half dozen militiamen emerge, greeting the group and starting up a dice game at one of the long tables. A short while later the smells of roasting meat begin to waft in from the kitchen much more appealing than roast wolf and more men appear some moving over to a large ale barrel and helping themselves.
It is nearly a half hour before a red faced and irritable Kurst appears teeth gritted and fists clenched, he takes a long look at the ale barrel and shakes his head before making for the exit seemingly without seeing you.
Menrozzar shakes his head to Edgar, and says, "The upstairs office is off-limits. We'll wait for him down here while we burn the wolves."
Once Kurst appears, Menrozzar moves towards him, saying, "Captain Kurst, a moment if we can. It's rather important."