”Unless it’s the Old Woman right? I don’t see the fey consorting with Harpys and Hags, but I suppose anything is possible . . . I suppose I am also worried about how the humans are consuming the entire forest too. Are there any friendly fey left about? We could try speaking to them.”
”At any rate let’s go get those eggs.”
Looking from Helgrim to the girl, "do we know how long it will take the eggs to hatch? It sounds like the old woman is more of a threat than the unhatched eggs." Looking to Wulf, "When we head back to town we may have to deal with Deadeye as well. Do we go back to town or back to the woods?"
"I would hate to leave Bloodeye to stew and hurt others. However this Harpy/Fey coalition is bad news. I say we take it out figure out what the plan is and then come back." He says stroking his chin.
Boggel enjoys his breakfast with the two young ladies, asking them to tell him more about where they are from.
Olga talks at length about life on her family's farm in Dustpawn, finding surprising joy in talking about something so simple as goat herding. However, her eyes glitter when she speaks with reverence about her late grandfather, part of the last generation to dig away in the failing iron mines that once made the small town prosperous.
"We still have his old pick hanging over the mantle," she beams, as though speaking of a war relic. "It reminds us how strong and hardworking our kin are."
Izbeth sighs as she pours the last of the batter into the skillet. She seems eager to cut short Olga's rustic rambling.
"You should visit us up at the Gold Falls, Mr. Boggel. I can promise even better flapjacks than these," she says proudly. She then utters something under her breath, sounding like a hope for a decently paying customer.
"Are you more of a tree frog or a swamp frog?" the innkeeper's daughter asks. "I think you'd take well to our majestic waterfall."
Outside, as you weight the possible courses of action, Solana appears utterly detached from your discussion. Instead, she aims an arrow-straight arm and finger out beyond the farmyard.
Following where she points, you spot a small group tromping down the dusty trail leading to the farm, coming from the direction of town.
Three men approach, and a halfling travels among them.
Salk was once a farmer like yourself, but a combination of bad luck and a plain lack of dedication led to her farm to failure and her land ended up seized by the Consortium to cover her debts. However, Salk soon found a place as another of Kreed's cronies.
She now serves as the "inspector" for the High Market. She is notoriously corrupt, and a hefty bribe is required for farmers and artisans to sell their goods in the High Market, where they can earn better prices for their wares. Additionally, a good amount of such produce and goods are often seized by Salk as "samples."
Insulting her pride is a surefire way to earn a lifetime ban from the High Market, which can doom most farmers' hopes of earning a livable income from their crops and livestock.
”Go inside girl. Tell boggle we have company.”
The dwarf eyeballs the group looking for weapons and armor.
”This isn’t my sausage delivery and I am guessing it isn’t a social call either is it Wulf. Should I get my armor ready? We’re outside of town proper here right?”
"Worse it's a bought bearueacrat" he says with a sigh and stands straight.
"She is coming to collect her due. Damn city wanting this and that from us hard workers to allow us to do business in the Hallow." he says heading straight towards them with a stoic face.
"Ms.Salk is the chief Inspector for the High Market. Best place in town to buy food and wares, and just as lucrative to sell there. I do a little business there. Mostly I tend to show my wares then co tract out. Makes it easier." he says rigid knowing this wasn't gonna be an easy battle.
"Doubt she came down here on her own accord. Pretty sure we ruffled enough feathers that my standing deal's with some of the more notable citizens is at risk...so be it"
Seeing the approaching group, Naomi shift closer, to Wulf and Hegrim, placing herself near a tree, so if she needs to defend herself she will be able to use the tree as cover while she shoots.
Boggel isn't sure how to answer the frog question. "Umm, neither. Gripplis resemble frogs but are quite distinct. Though I do love both trees and swamps. And waterfalls," he adds, his tone still friendly.
Salk strides up to the farm's gate, her escorts striving to shorten their steps so as to not overtake or bump into their VIP.
"Ah. Good. You're out and about. I was hoping I wouldn't have to go searching for you," the halfling woman says to Wulf. To distance herself from her agrarian roots, Salk wears the clothes of a middle class merchant, imported from Olfden for her by Ayda Vorshin. However, the fashion remains provincial, and she would be shunned by the lingering noble circles in cities like Almas.
"Gavel Kreed will be hosting some representatives from Almas in a fortnight, and he wants lamb on the menu for these guests," she explains, "so I'm here to secure a purchase contract with you. If you don't have enough young animals, I will buy older ones for mutton, but don't expect nearly as much for them. Now, let's get this deal done quickly. I need to get back to town. I don't want to miss the execution."
Wulf nods and holds up a hand."Ms.Salk, Let me make sure to get you a towel for your shoes. They may get messy" He says offering it, as he knew her necessity to stay clean. Appearances and all.
"I don't wish to make you stay too, long but I would also not wish to see your fine garments unnecessarily soiled." He says heading to the house.
"May I ask about how many and how much is Kreed willing to pay." He says walking towards his place."Also Ms.Salk I do have a bobby calf I have been saving for myself, but if you'd like I may or may not be able to part with it if the good and honest Ms.Salk sees fit to remain fair. I mean its the least I can do"
Wulf doesn't like doing it but unless the woman took the entire lot he would be fine. Besides some of them were earmarked for others.Some with neighbouring towns. He doubted Kreed would wish to go against those contracts.
'An execution?' Cocking her head, Naomi asks in as polite as voice as she can muster, "Execution? Who is the sheriff hanging?"
Salk opens her mouth to begin negotiations with Wulf, but she is preempted by Naomi's question. The halfling market inspector, at first, snaps her mouth shut with indignation at the interruption. However, her mood quickly recovers thanks to the polite nature of the inquiry, and she eagerly launches into a description of the matter for Naomi.
"That layabout Timothy Lawrence. He killed Ergin Tock last night. Word is that a little alcohol brought a feud between the two to a head, and Lawrence knifed Tock in his own tavern. The sheriff has him locked up at the Tribunal while he and the magistrate sort out the evidence, but it seems like a foregone conclusion. Most folks are expecting him to be strung up by nightfall."
Discussing the grim murder seems to excite Salk. It is easy to imagine that such a ghastly affair has caused a stir in town, energizing the Valers as they confront such a departure from the millstone-like grind of their daily lives.
"Wasn't Timothy one of Kreels' heels?" Wulf asked as he began to get some of better-looking livestock out for her.
"Ms.Salk, did you get that gift my sister sent you last month. I heard your alls meeting went well.' he said trying to just go about the transaction as normal.
Salk smiles graciously and thanks Wulf for his family's gift, although he strongly suspects she does not remember in the slightest. Eager to quit herself of the earthy smell haunting the farm, Salk agrees to pay four gold sails per lamb within its first year, and two sails for each adult.
"The Gavel will need at least six animals in total to prepare a proper dinner for his guests," she says, using the proffered towel to wipe clean her shoes.
"Six eh" He rubs his chin and then looks to Salk.'How great of a chef he got for this. Is it his usual chef or did he get him one of the ones from the south? I am just askin' as to whether or not you are gonna get the best cuts for him to work with without too much waste.'
The dwarf is satisfied to study all the players as they interact trying to glean what information he can from their body language and tones.
"I don't know who the Gavel will have preparing the meal. I'm just in charge of procuring the meat for the feast."
The Consortium men escorting her are the same type of hired muscle that you've seen and read about before. Although they seem eager for a scrap, you notice a thread of wariness among them - directed at Wulf. Your friend's reputation likely leaves them somewhat spooked.
Finally, you are relieved that Wulf and Salk seem to have reached an amicable deal. As best as you can read Salk's character, if she was not able to purchase the lamb from the veteran-turned-farmer, she would have returned with even more goons to simply seize the animals as some kind of phony tax to the Consortium.
Pressed for time, and not keen on chit chat, Salk agrees to pay Wulf a legitimately fair price for his animals - and not just the Consortium's definition of "fair." She waves for her escorts and they depart, marching back towards Falcon's Hollow.
In addition to the previous dilemmas about the harpy eggs, the women rescued from Bloodeye, and the scheme being woven around the town, now you must also contend with the fact that your former friend, Timothy Lawrence, is accused of murder.
What will the party do next?
Wulf takes the 20 gp (4 yearlings and 2 adults) and places it in his purse. He makes sure the goats are tied securely together and hands it off to one of the men that came with Salk. He then turns to the rest of the party and scratches his chin.
"We should make sure our guests are okay with staying here for a minute before we go investigate. I also would love to have them have weapons ready if someone decided to skulk about." He says before he turns to head to the barn and grab the weapons form in there.
Nodding her head in agreement with Wulf Naomi turns and asks Boggel, "What do you thing, could Mr. Lawrence actually have killed him?"
Solana seems eager (or as close to eager as her stony demeanor allows) to stay with the animals, giving her time to think. Although she looks forward to returning home, Olga also has no compunctions about staying behind - and even offers to take care of some chores while you are gone.
"You have my thanks for saving me, but that doesn't mean you can expect me to keep house for you - at least not for free," Izbeth teases, though you suspect she will give in and aid Olga not long after you are gone.
Wulf retrieves from his shed some of the weapons confiscated from the Consortium goons you dealt with back in the Darkwood grove. Solana and Izbeth accept them readily, although the innkeeper's daughter again snarks that she hopes not to need them. Olga appears especially worried by the prospect of having to defend herself and the farm, but she accepts the weapon, finding it almost as natural as carrying a farm tool.
Traveling the trail back into town, you can almost sense the buzz along the dusty roads and within the Low Market as Valers gossip about the supposed murder most foul. As you arrive within eyesight of the tribunal, you see one of the sheriff's deputies - a dwarf man in dark leathers and with a sturdy crossbow hanging from a strap - chase away a group of children trying to peek into the window.
Furthermore, local gossip also claims that he and Magistrate Harg are in a relationship. While Splint tries to encourage his lover to rebel against the tyrannical Kreed, Harg also tries to protect the dwarf from the repercussions of his outspokenness.
Helgrim cheers up seeing a fellow stout folk.
”Greetin’s to you and may your forgefire stay lit and your beard remain the colo of your youth . Its good to see another dwarf around here. We heard you caught that man Tim and have some powerful evidence against him, but why are the set to kill him before the sunsets?”
”Seeme a bit rushed, but what do I know? I’ve only been in your town a few weeks, maybe that’s how you do it around here? Would be a shame to kill a man before the investigation could be carried out though.”
The dwarf says conversationally.
'I know Tabrik is sympathetic to the plight of the regular people in town, I wonder if he will listen to Helgrim.' Watching and waiting to see what happens, Naomi keeps a keen eye out, waiting to see who shows up and if they get a chance to speak to the accused.
Boggel doesn't understand this execution thing. He turns to Naomi. "Was there a trial? When? We just saw him the other day?"
Hoping to learn more about what is happening, Naomi turns to Boggel, "I don't know Boggel, I don't think Kreed is very interested in a trial, or justice for that matter. The first question is if he was framed or if he really killed Tock. The second question is if the truth will matter. Sounds like Kreed is getting rid of two malcontents in one fell swoop."
A wry smile crosses Splint's otherwise stony face when Helgrim approaches pleasantly.
"The Gavel wants to make an example out of both men, I reckon," he grumbles, still on guard for trouble. "They were both company men, which is why I won't shed many tears for either of them.
"I don't believe Mr. Lawrence is guilty - he's too squirrelly to ever get blood on his own hands - and I'm darn sure the Sheriff agrees. Unfortunately, Kreed has put plenty of pressure on Vamros...I mean, the Magistrate to hustle this case along. He's even got the foremen whipping the workers into a bloodthirsty frenzy, braying for the hollow justice he's peddling."
No one else approaches the tribunal while you are present. However, through a window, Naomi spots Sheriff Baleson pacing like a caged wolf inside the law building. Presumably he is talking with the magistrate and possibly Tim himself.
Wulf just stands there silent his hands still a bit grimy from the work as well as his boots."Tell me, Tabrik do you think the workers will try something during the proceedings?"
"Also is she working today? I haven't had a chance to chat, was hoping to maybe take her for a pint if, she is available" he says now really invested in what Tabrik has to say.
Gesturing toward the interior, Naomi ask Splint, "do you think we could speak with the sheriff before the hanging starts?"
"If'n you're thinking the loggers might try to save Mr. Lawrence, I wouldn't count on it," the dwarf answers. "Not only was he a company man, but it's come out that he were secretly spying for Kreed. He'd supposedly pass along information on dissidents and rabble-rousers, including a few folk who ended up meeting bad ends. 'Cause of that, I'd wager most folks are eager to see the man hang."
The second part of Wulf's question leaves the dwarven deputy a little confused.
"I'm not quite sure who you mean, Wulf," he says scratching his chin through his short-cut beard. Tabrik then turns to Naomi. "Why d'ya want to speak with Baleson? Do you have information about this case? That's really the only reason I could let you inside."
"May we ask who met their 'bad ends'? And may we ask what evidence has been presented against him?" This all seems so wild. Where is the shaman who performs a divination to determine the real truth? Why is there not a council of elders to decide what should be done? These people are so backwards.
Smiling a wicked smile, "Maybe to save his own skin Lawrence would tell the sheriff all the evil he did for Kreed. Either way, if he's not guilty he shouldn't hang."
A worried look crosses Tabrik's face, as he clearly debates whether to speak further on the matters. Evidently, he finds something trustworthy about your group, eclectic though it may be, for he answers Boggel's questions.
"There were a few folks who 'went missing' some time ago. I don't know all of them. One was Miss Milara; she served food and mended clothes around the logging camp. There was also Atux Stonebeard; he was the only other one of us stout folk around until you came into town," the deputy says, nodding towards Helgrim.
"Anyhow, Mr. Lawrence began pestering Miss Milara. Some tongues wagged, saying he was awkwardly sweet on her. Others said he was just spying for the Consortium. On a few nights, the two were seen together, even meeting with some others. Within a month, though, the lot of them disappeared."
Tabrik shakes his head sadly, and when he speaks again, it is in an even more hushed tone.
"Those of us who pressed for answers were only ever told that they were part of some druid cult, and that they were executed for scheming against the town and being in league with foul magic. But I tell you, neither the sheriff nor any of us deputies had a hand in any such execution. We never even heard of such a thing. I tell you, the Consortium was just making troublemakers disappear."
The dwarf deputy sighs and leans against a post supporting the tribunal veranda. It seems as though this is the first moment he's eased himself in many hours.
"As for evidence regarding the current ghastly matter, Mr. Lawrence was found unconscious in a back room of the Sitting Duck with Tock's body nearby. A bloody knife was still in Mr. Lawrence's hand."
"Sounds fishy" Wulf says scratching his chin as he speaks.
"And it is Daphne, the tall built redhead..the one who drank me under the table about a month ago" He says blushing a bit has his hand goes from chin to the back of his neck nervously.
"If you killed someone, would you lie down near the body... with the weapon in your hand? That seems fishy indeed."
hearing that Lawrence was found unconscious, Naomi rolls her eyes and asks, "Boggel is right. Why was he unconscious? Was he knocked out? If Tock was dead, who did it? Has either even been evaluated by a medical expert or a cleric?"
"Closest thing to a doctor we have around here is Miss Gebre, and there ain't no way Kreed would let her get involved, even if she were keen to," Tabrik answers Naomi. "He'd be even less likely to involve Lady Cirthana - and she has actually tried to look into the matter!"
He shakes his head with a groan and tugs at his short beard, clearly grappling with a weighty decision. He leans in and whispers.
"I agree, the whole matter is fishier than a day-old popcarp. Unfortunately, the Valers are braying for justice - or what passes for justice around here. They're scared and looking for some measure of reassurance of security. If you want to look into the matter, please do. Nothing would please me more than to connect this to Kreed and snare him in a trap that even he cannot escape."
His eyes dart towards the tribunal door.
"I'll let you in and vouch for you, but you'll still need to convince Baleson to let you investigate."
”Fair enough. We’ll take you up on the offer. Remind me again whom Lady Cirthana is again now?”
At first, Tabrik leans back, as though surprised by Helgrim's question. He quickly realizes, though, that Helgrim is not a local.
"Lady Cirthana is the priestess who runs the temple of Iomedae," the dwarven deputy explains. "She's also what you might call a polarizing figure around town. Her congregation is small but very loyal, while a lot of other Valers see her sense of justice as just another form of oppression.
"You see, Falcon's Hollow doesn't exactly have a knack for attracting upstanding citizens. The families you see are but branches of long-standing family trees with roots in the Vale. Most of the loggers and laborers who come to town looking for work, though, are drifters at best and outlaws at worst. North of the River Foam, Andoren law is about as thin as its ideals of liberty. That attracts a certain kind of character, looking to leave something unpleasant behind them. Church folk, like the ones Lady Cirthana rallies with her sermons, are exactly the types they hoped to escape."
Tabrik groans and smooths out his greasy hair.
"The cutyards manage to turn some thieves honest; others, not so much. However, for the most part, they abandon the worst of their old ways. The fact that this is a last chance for them, and the threat of frontier justice, is quite the motivator. It's strange, though. A murder like this actually unites the families and the drifters in a common cause. None of them want to see such brazen foul deeds in their town."
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Tabrik opens the door to the tribunal and brusquely ushers you inside, following close behind.
Inside the tribunal, you find Mr. Lawrence sitting with slumped posture on a chair, the sheriff standing beside him. Magistrate Harg is perched upon a stool at his desk, furiously jotting notes. Your entrance draws the attention of both Baleson and Harg, although Mr. Lawrence does not turn his head.
The sheriff's indignation is cut short as his dwarven deputy provides an introduction, vouching for you. Sheriff Baleson turns his stern, appraising eyes upon you but remains quiet, waiting for you to speak your case.
"Ugh, I hate church, so much...church" He says at the mention of the good lady of the town. Him and her had never seen eye to eye on philosophy,but for the most part she did little major harm and gave people some hope.
----------
"Magistrate, Sheriff" Wulf says tip his hat to the men before he looks over at Timothy.
"Came here t' help make sure he is healed an' stuff" Wulf says pointing to Boggle.
"Also came to make sure he makes it t' da' trial, can't have the Law fall t' some mob or t' hired goons' Wulf says noting that if they could make a stand for Andoran law at least they would be doing something.
"Good day to you, Wulf," the sheriff says with a nod. "With or without Tabrik's word, you're one of the few men I'd allow in here, under the circumstances."
A sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan gurgles in Baleson's throat. Mr. Lawrence looks up as you enter. His face shows a slight reprieve from the gloomy disposition that haunts him before he returns his eyes to the wooden floor boards of the tribunal.
"He's been quiet," Baleson says, shaking his head. "Hasn't even said two words in his own defense. He knows you, right? Maybe you can get him to open up about what happened."
Boggel sighs. "This seems such a rush to judgement." He walks over to address Lawrence. "Mr. Timothy. It is said you were found knocked out. Are you injured? May I examine you?"
Mr. Lawrence offers no protest as Boggel begins to examine him.
There are still smears of blood upon his arms, but there are no injuries of his own. He seems unhurt, although very disoriented.
As you look him over, you realize that rather than simply being stunned by what has transpired, his mind is actually clouded by some manner of substance. You recognize a grogginess and sedation commonly induced by cabble-weed or flayleaf.
.....
Meanwhile, Sheriff Baleson paces the floor restlessly.
Finally, he sharply turns on his heel and marches to the open window. He motions for Tabrik and whispers to the deputy.
"Where's Tock's body? Daphne and Corin should have been back from the Duck by now."
'So Boggle what do you think?"he says looking over Timothy and then grabs timothy by the chin and shakes trying to get him to open his eyes.
Boggel turns to Wulf with a serious look in his eye. "He appears physically unharmed. But he has been drugged. I cannot say for certain that he did not take the drugs of his own will, though it seems unlikely."
"There may be another complication," he says quietly, nodding his head in the sheriff's direction. "It appears they may have misplaced the murder victim's body."
'That is bad, With no Body means the court has enough hearsay to say whatever. Especially when Tim here can't up and say anything. Bet they were planning on the whole thing honestly"Wulf says looking to the two.
"Let's see if we can help them get the body Unless you think you can try and get him outta this drugged state Boggle? If not I say we help get the body and let the good sheriff and Tabrik guard Tim." Wulf suggests not wishing to push his suggestion as an order. He left the service to avoid such things as well as not wind up more injured then he was at the time.
For the most part, it will simply take time for the drugs to work their way out of Mr. Lawrence's body. However, Boggel can think of a pair of relatively common herbs - yaran and basil - whose leaves, brewed into a tea, could mitigate the sedative effects.
This treatment would likely cost 1gp from Laurel's shop. Alternatively, given about an hour's time, Boggel could find the ingredients and prepare the tea himself.
The dwarf chose to watch the humans interact first. Wulf was from this community and Boggel was so far removed from it that he would be allowed certain graces Helgrim wouldn’t enjoy.
He tries to read the situation, especially the mood and demeanor of the magistrate.
Finally he speaks.
”I’m no friend of this fella here, but if he’s this doped up now a half a day later, how could he kill a man? And what do you mean the body is missing? Also, I thought this guy was in thick with the one he allegedly killed?”
I guess my words are getting ahead of myself though, I should introduce myself properly. I am Helgrim Ironstar, Engineer and Warden of the Lonely Tower, though that title holds little weight in these lands.”
”If this man has been poisoned wouldn’t it make sense to call on the Priest of Iomade? I saw the church. It seems a servant of the ideals of honor and righteousness in the defense of good and the battle against evil, might come in handy and this man could use a spell or two.”