Deep in thought, Scrabbler pulled out a juggling ball and threw it at his own head. He didn't fall over though. He just caught it again and looked at it, wishing he had magicy powers too.
How me's be more like Bupkis?
Tvari smiles down at the goblins, "From how Alicia tells it she and Bupkis are old friends, I confess I thought you were imaginary for quite a while Bupkis. And you are talking about the White Sword? I would feel a little conflicted removing it, I assumed it was a tribute to Iomedae, albeit a crude one. That is not the case? If it truly requires magic to remove we would need either a prestidigitation cantrip, or if that will not work erase, so you should probably talk to Agrit. She just headed over to Clamour not five minutes ago, not sure if she will have either of those spells prepared today, but I know she often has prestidigitation - I wish it was an orison, seems very handy."
Bupkis conferred with his new friends. "Maybe we ask around Katrezra near here? Sounds like not go far."
"There are several others about the town in addition to this one - one on the Commons, one on the Hopespring, and another on the South Tower. We don't know what they are, but given this persistent fog that refuses to burn off, we don't want people to jump at shadows or to wrong conclusions," Menrozzar says to Tvari, trying to keep his own worry about the purpose of the crosses from showing.
To Bupkis, he says, "Let's head towards Clamor and ask those nearby if they've seen Katrezra at all on the way. I'd like to see if Agrit can do something about the crosses sooner than later."
Tvari purses her lips, "I cannot see how that would be tactically helpful in any sort of siege, if they are able to access those points I would be happy for them to focus on them, rather than the towns people. If there is some motive behind these crosses it escapes me. Bring it up with Agritt she is a very intelligent woman, and Sara is always surprisingly insightful."
The group make their way back to Clamour. Sara stands behind the counter and Agritt, her dwarven wife stands on your side of the counter they both appear to be eating from a frying pan full of mushrooms and some sort of spatchcocked rodent and covered in a dark brown sauce.
"This is the lot investigating Rodrik's death," Sara says loudly.
"Oh, and how goes the investigation?" Agritt asks, the red haired solid dwarven woman raising her brows as she spears a half of rodent and tears off a leg with her teeth.
Bupkis replied to Agrit, "Rodrik investigate something; Bupkis not know what. Rodrik talk Katrezra Sanctuary often, maybe he know, but not there. We attacked by wolves in fog, inside Trunau! Danger for Katrezra outside! You see him?" He eyed the food that Sara and Agrit were eating, wondering what it was.
"Also marks like big sword painted around town. Alchemy paint; won't scrub off! Ramblehouse room, Sanctuary, south tower, commons, Hopespring. Agrit magic remove?"
During the walk to Clamor, Menrozzar had been considering his suspicions, and wondering if he was giving into bias - especially based on what Captain Kurst had said. He liked to think that he wasn't as prejudiced as others in town, but he'd lived here his whole life and fought against the Orcs. Could there, maybe, be something unconscious there - something that made him assume the orcs had been responsible for the marks? What if the orcs had found the marks, not made them? Sara had said Urnsul had showed up with nothing - if so, she couldn't afford to buy a fancy alchemical paint that needed magic to remove. Could he be looking at this wrong?
Once they arrived at Clamor, he nodded agreement with Bupkis. "We were actually coming to see you, Agrit. The marks in question were done with a type of alchemical paint that can't be cleaned by normal means - it requires some sort of magic. Tvari thought maybe a couple spells called prestidigitation or erase might work on them."
Turning to Sara, he said, "We were also looking for an elderly half-orc named Katrezra, who was receiving healing at the Sanctuary. Rodrik apparently talked to him often, and we were hoping we would be able to ask him what they talked about. We don't think he's involved with Rodrik's death," Menrozzar made sure to emphasize that point so Sara wouldn't think they thought he was guilty, "but, as Bupkis said, Rodrik was investigating something, and if we can figure out what he was investigating, that might help with solving his death. It's our best lead at the moment."
”Is that Brukt? I haven’t had that in years, most of the time we had to use skunk or squirrel, did you actually find a mole?” Edgar says as he walk in. ”have you seen or heard from Urusal yet, we need to speak to her.”
Out of habit Daseem nodded to Sara and started sweeping near the forge. When heated the hot steel oxidized and bits flaked off when the metal was being pounded into shape. This made a lot of mess, particularly if Daseem was trying his hand at blacksmithing - he often got the metal too hot or forgot to use enough flux. Sara appreciated a tidy workshop and Daseem found the mindless manual labor strangely relaxing. Of course he still kept one eye open and listened into the conversation.
Sara glances at Agritt as the door behind them swings open and an elderly half orc with white hair holding a cane, beckons to you before moving back into the room behind the counter.
Sara nods n the direction of the room, "Ain't seen anymore of Urnsul, but go have a talk in back."
Agritt nods, "I'll take a look at the markings tomorrow morning, don't have erase, and I didn't prepare prestidigitation this morning. Typical the one day you prepare read magic instead."
Moving into the backroom, which contains several well-worn but comfortable chairs, positioned around a low table, you see the half orc in more detail. His breathing is hash and rattling, his back stooped and his eyes are a misty white,
"Forgive me my flight, I am Katrezra, I feared for my life after I found out about Rodrik's death," reaching inside his robes he produces a leather bound journal and sets it down upon the table.
"Rodrik's journal, I asked him to leave it with me on his last trip to the Plague House, fearful something would befall him. Ask your questions and I shall answer as well as I may."
Edgar takes a moment to look over the journal, “well let’s start at the beginning, what was Rodrik investigating?” he asks as he reads on,”and why did you have a change of heart in supporting it? And these visions? I should hope you have much to say on the matter.”
Katrezra slumps in his chair letting out a wet hacking cough, “To be truthful, I don’t think even he knew exactly what he was looking for. Rodrik had run afoul of a flood troll in the Plague House not long ago, and the poor fellow was convinced it was not just an isolated incident. He came to me seeking guidance, and his curiosity was piqued by my visions. I told him that flood trolls are native to Belkzen, but they rarely roam this far south of the Flood Road. Since learning of his investigation, though, I have had nightmares unlike any before, and I fear that some greater evil may be at play within Trunau’s walls. my nightmares made me fearful that Rodrik would meet his end in The Plague House, so I tried to discourage him, but in the end I was as blind as ever, for I saw nothing of his true death.”
That don't tell us what he was searchin' for though unfortunately. Ivan says as he reads through the journal.
Ivan then pats Katrezra on the shoulder. Weren't your fault lad. What do you know of Urnsul? Anythin' at all?
He passes the journal to another before speaking, his hand on his chin in thought.
And it looks like this plague house was on the poor lads mind something fierce. I say, after this, we go take a look ourselves. Its tha' only real lead we got that feels worth followin' anymore. Particularly due to the timin' of the murder.
Katrezra manages a pained wheezy laugh, "I am not so sure, the Empty Hand orcs made me inhale the fumes that ruined me to gain these abilities as a seer, and yet they have ever been a curse, even after escaping those savages. I thought perhaps I could help guide Rodrik from danger, but it was not to be. I am afraid I know no Urnsul."
Bupkis looked at the journal, mostly at the drawings. "Rodrik draw good!", he commented. He hadn't realized the extent of his friend's artistic talents.
"Man stay Ramblehouse; pay Cham extra for not give name. Note in room say 'meddling patrol captain poking around'. He not want Rodrik find something Plague House, Bupkis think!"
”Yes, I agree Ivan. Katrezra, do you know anything about the white crosses that apeared all over town?” Edgar says as he rubs his chin ponderously.
Katrezra's expression darkens, "I’ve been experiencing vivid hallucinations of white swords or crosses, and dreams of the Plague House outside town. for weeks When I told Rodrik of them, he seemed to think my dreams might help with his investigation. I told him about my visions as best I could, but the muse of my nightmares is as abstruse as she is unkind.”
“I have seen visions of the Plague House many times these past few weeks, and though I can’t say with any certainty what these divinations might mean, I believe there is more beneath the ashes of
the Burned Church than soot and rubble.”
”thank you for your help,” Edgar says as he stands up and looks to his companions,”I think Ivan will agree with me, it’s of utmost importance that we head to the plague house and check it out.”
Bupkis listened to Katrezra, and then said, "Bupkis only know Plague House as spooky ruins; not know history. Something happen there?" Goblins generally didn't care about the past; the present was all that mattered to most. Now, he was really getting a sense that things from the distant past could affect the present.
Katrezra nods and sighs, "I suppose telling you to be careful is not necessary. But I will point out that Rodrik only seemed to visit the place after dark. It may be that whatever he sought could only be found in the darkness..."
hmm. That, or he wanted to keep his visits there a secret to most. If he was indeed investigating something, that would seem prudent....
Wait a durned minute, didn't Rodrik's love say they always met at the plague house? How long ago did they stop meetin'?
Before we leave, I want to stop and ask Brinya anotha' question or two first. Ifn' its ok with the lot O' ye.
"I am sure one of your friends here could tell you of its history better than I, I am a relative newcomer to Trunau and do not get out much. But in brief The Plague House, also known as the Burned Church, was Trunau’s original church of Iomedae. When orc raiders burned the building down and killed the priests within, the church of Iomedae decided to build a new chapel inside the town walls. The ruined church became known as the Plague House following a tragedy 50 years ago, when Trunau was afflicted with a plague. The town’s authorities hastily rebuilt the structure and used it to quarantine the plague victims, but a mysterious fire consumed the building a few days later, killing everyone inside — patients and healers — and leaving the infamous site once again in ruins. None have attempted to rebuild it since."
Menrozzar nods in agreement. ”It’s a common superstition that the Plague House is cursed. You may have heard Ruby mention that some boys headed down there last night. A lot of the younger boys go down to the Plague House and dare each other to go inside. Few do - I made it as far as the doors when I did it, and that was further than most. Captain Kurst went down there to stop the boys last night - we should see if he saw anything. You say Rodrik only went down at night?”
"I do." Katrezra responds, "he would normally visit me before going, this past week at least. Before that me was meeting that girl of his Brinya, came to me thinking I might know of some orcish romantic traditions he could use to woe her, but neither myself or orcs in general are prone to romance."
hm, so he knows.
Did Rodrik ever say if he stopped seein' Brinya in the past week or so that he has been investigating whatever it that he was investigating?
Katrezra's wrinkled brow crinckles further, "I believe it was more Brinya stopped seeing him. I think he was waiting for the Hopeknife he commissioned after loosing the none she gave him, I know he felt wretched about it. I do not understand the rest of your sentence."
Daseem read the book and listened to the conversation. One thing was so clear to him that he blurted it out, "W-we must visit the Plague House a-after d-dark. Tonight!" He then added as an after though, "M-m-maybe find the f-first hope knife..." . Of course everyone was looking at him now, awkward...
Bupkis thought that checking the Plague House was a good idea. He had always been afraid to go very far inside by himself, but now he had friends.
"We go Plaguehouse tonight. Goblins see good in dark; dwarves too, Bupkis think. Humans need light?"
”Yes Bupkis, we need light. Humans are basically blind in the dark.” Edgar says,”although Edwin will be fine.”
Its is currently around 2PM, with sunset falling at around 8, so the group find themselves with at least six hours to fill if they wish to visit the Plague House at night.
"Ivan, I believe you wanted to visit Brinya again? After we do that, we should head back to the Longhouse and report to Captain Kurst about Captain Rodrik's journal. Is there anything else we should do before heading down to the Plague House? If not, we should take the rest of the time to rest and prepare ourselves."
An idea struck Menrozzar. "One more thing, Katrezra. Does the name Melira mean anything to you?"
"What we do until night?" Bupkis asked. It looked like they had several hours until it would be time to go to the Plague House."Ask gate guards if see wolves wagon?"
”Aye, we should visit Brinya again, then the gate guard. Maybe take a nap from then until night and we can go to the Plague House.” Edgar says.
Hmmm. No, no, I think I got the answer I wanted to me question I was going to ask Brinya. Lets be off to tha' gate house then.
Scrabbler knew lots of ghost stories. Most of them were funny more than spooky. Chief Ringsmaster used to say the right mix of scary and funny was how to warm up a crowd. Scrabbler was kind of excited about seeing a real ghost story place up close.
"How's we stop ghosts if there's ghosts?" he asked his companions.
Bupkis considered Scrabbler's question; he didn't know much about such matters. "Maybe Tyari know about ghosts?", he offered.
"It might not be ghosts - just because rumor says some place is haunted doesn't mean it is. Since Captain Rodrik went there often, it might not be that dangerous."
'Ghosts?! No I don't believe that, which is not to say the place isn't haunted, just surely the locals would know if there where ghosts or something similarly awful there? If there's anything it's probably mindless undead.' thought Daseem shaking his head. He looked at the goblins and muttered, 'Your're j-just scaring yourselves. M-menrozzar's probably right."
"Never heard the name I am afraid," Katrezra says looking drained.
"We go gate; ask about wagon?" Bupkis suggested.
Sure, lets go ask the guards at the gate if they saw the wagon being brought in. Ivan nods,
"Agreed. They may not have seen anything, but it won't hurt to ask."
Daseem nodded, "C-come it's this way." He started walking north towards the gate. He wasn't scared of ghosts, and hoped the guards would let them out tonight (and more importantly back in again) without too much fuss.
"Wagon? I mean I don't recall any like that, but this is the first time I've been on gate duty this week. what about you Gilly?" one guard says scratching his head, and looking to his companion, a half elf with a nasty claw scar on the left side of his neck that looks almost like a ragged gill.
"Think I might of seen it, well smelled it, fellow just said mhe kept his dogs in there. Got to admit I never thought to check for wolves... If I remember rightly he was a, well, normal looking bloke, not tall, not short, err, brownish hair, average weight? no real distinguishing features.@
Bupkis listened to the guard's explanation. He asked the man, "Know where came from? How he pull wagon — horses?" He was nervous about horses himself, but the wagon seemed awfully heavy to pull by himself from... where could the man have come from?
He commented to his companions, "Not tall, not short, not thin, not fat — sound like 'average' man from Ramblehouse!"
"I think they were mules, looked on their last legs if I recall right," Gill says looking uncertain, "Guess he wasn't exactly an animal lover hey?"
Aye... so now what? do we just wait fer night to come? Or did any O' ye have other ideas? Ivan ponders to the others.
Bupkis responded to Ivan, "Look for mules? Not sure we find man."
”We could try, although if they were in the same condition as the wolves, they may already be dead.”
Menrozzar didn’t like this. A perfectly average man snuck wolves into the town, likely killed Rodrik, and they had a bunch of half-orcs who, he was beginning to suspect, may not actually be involved in this, but made for an excellent patsy. Whatever this was, he didn’t like it one bit.
Scrabbler came to the decision right then that this average-man needed to be stabbed. Horses still made Scrabbler nervous, but he'd learned a love of animals from his circus family. The wagon master and the beast tamer had both talked a lot about how important it was to take good care your animals. Working animals were family, not slaves. Even dogs and horses didn't deserve to be starved or worked to death.
"Check stables?" Scrabbler said. "Not many in town.