Freyja's eyes match Teasel's as Helgrim tells his tale. That bad. she notes. Then the Venture Captain was right. I pledge my sword and my voice to do what I can to help these people. She says. I can tell you already that I sense no magic at play in this specific crime. Its good to meet you all. Its good to find like minded allies in this task. I would have tried to help all by myself but with all of us working together I find new hope that something can be done.
Speaking to Teasel in a quiet moment Freyja offers her hand adds I look forward to getting to know you and learning more of your story. You are a walking song I think, so rare is your upbringing.
"We don't all need to check the body. Some of us can question witnesses and this Tim fellow. Nevertheless, we should roll this poor soul over to look at how he was stabbed."
"Let's see if we can poke holes in the Gavel's arguments against Ser Tim. Ah, no pun intended," he says to the corpse.
Kit recoils at the smell wafting out of the wine bottle, quite unaccustomed to sour swill that is Sauerton Red. Finding the dead body more manageable, he turns over the late Ergin Tock.
Your attention is immediately drawn to his throat, which has been slit almost ear to ear. The amount of blood around the wound almost certainly singles this out as the cause of death.
When a wolf pack attacks a stag, it is rare for any of the animals to come away uninjured. Even if the stag is brought down by the pack's jaws, its antlers and hooves will leave painful mementos for the hunters. Besides his slit throat, there are no other wounds on this man that would suggest he had been in such a bitter fight.
Although it is rather unkind to compare Mr. Lawrence to livestock, based on your animals' behavior while under the drug's effects, you sincerely doubt that the accused man would have been in any shape to start a fight that would lead to Tock's death.
The wine bottle and cups remain upright on the table, which itself still stands. None of the small wood carvings on the chest of drawers have been toppled or scattered. Absolutely nothing is broken.
The pall of death that hangs over the small back room robs Freyja of her normal charm. Fortunately, the two deputies are all-too-eager to share the observations they've made while securing the scene.
"The biggest oddity we found - or rather, what we couldn't find - was the murder weapon," Daphne explains. "Tock's throat was obviously slit, but there wasn't a knife to be found in here. Corin even got down on hands and knees to look under the bed and the drawers, but he found nothing."
Boggel picks up the herbs he needs and hurries back with his remedy for Tim. While the others are working on the body and crime scene, Boggel administers the formula and watches Tim to make sure he doesn't have any adverse reactions.
"How are you feeling now, Mr. Tim? Do you know where you are?"
Freyja shares her observation with the others and notes No struggle. No defense. No murder weapon. With no weapon here I suspect the weapon left with the actual murderer.
Teasel shows a concerned look across her face. Pointing to the single wound she says,"There is only one wound. You would think that if there was any struggle or fight he would have more cuts over his body. It looks like he died sleeping."
"Interesting. He wouldn't be able to do anything like this. Had some goats eat some of the same drugs Tim was effected with. Left them so intoxicated I thought at first they were dead, turns out it is similar to being incredibly drunk." He looks at the others.
"Like when ya' have been bar-hoppin' after a supply train guard post and ye get so drunk ya can't move." he says hearing that there was no weapon.
"Even with a weapon he wouldn't 'ave been able to do that let alone get ta his feet. All this here seems to look like a set up." He says as he goes over to Helgrim and leans in.
Kit stands up slowly. "I have no skill in medicine or healing, but my mind isn't so terrible," he says, equally slowly. "Say I am this 'Tim'. I slash this man here, Tock, and he falls."
Kit stands where Tim would have been, in front of the body. "They were arguing here and then Tim attacked, yes?"
He looks around him. "Does anyone see a spray of blood? I have seen a person's neck cut before. It is like a fountain if it is nicked, but I suppose...well...hmm, with this size cut I would at least expect a sizable amount to drip down onto the floor."
The deputies are impressed by the party's detective skills, but they seem at a loss to explain these discrepancies.
"There were a lot of people in the tavern last night," Corin explains. "And they were as loud as ever. One of them might'a been involved. We could ask around, see who was here last night and who might've seen or heard something."
"There's also Jalene, the barmaid," Daphne suggests. "When she came to work in the morning to help clean up the Duck after the previous night, she discovered the two men in this room. You might talk to her for more information."
"I'm...I'm at the Tribunal building," he answers. "What happened last night? I visited the Duck to discuss a...business proposition with Tock. I don't remember what happened."
"Easy, Mr. Tim. This must be confusing." He tries to use calming gestures, as best as he can anyway. "Perhaps you have noticed, you are in jail. Mr. Tock is dead. You have been drugged. But you were found near the body." He tries to say that in the kindest way possible.
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Helgrim picks up a cup and fills it with a little water.
"Humans are basically just big bags of liquid."
then he wraps up a bar towl into a tight twist.
"If you plunge a knife into one. . . "
He thrusts the point of the towel into the cup and whips it out sending cast off onto the dry floor leaving spray like a painter on a canvas.
"The murderer will leave us his calling card in the blood spray. The concious victim with his throat cut will first feel the need to get to his feet, his hands rushing to cover the injury as blood drips, sprays or floods."
"If the windpipe is also cut he sucks blood in and spues it back out and then coughs sending phlemy blood everywhere."
"Now if it's just his neck he begins to panic, looking for help, someone to cast a spell, anything. Running around like a chicken beheaded."
He sways back and forth spilling a bit of water it splish splash pattern.
"Finally he falls to the ground and his life blood spills out."
He lets a small pool form.
"but this isn't a peaceful death in a poem . . ."
he rapidly stutter slaps the pool and moves to one side leaving a chatter pattern of water in his hand's path.
"No! The victim goes in to seizures and then spasms like a fish dying out of water as his body and all its systems and organs are dying from lack of oxygenated blood."
"So how does the blood look here?"
"If he was paralized already and someone cut his throat, then he might simply it there and bleed down himself and onto the ground."
"If he is drugged and was on the ground facedown and bled like a veal calf all his blood goes forward. his chest heaves trying to get a breath , but he can't get one."
He walks over to wulf.
"If I am cutting your throat from the front, the flesh doesn't just cut like a knife through butter. No, it binds and stretches and tears and the point is drawn across and driven through the throat."
"But, if I come from behind and draw cut with my blade across the neck. The skin parts and lifts up. The end of the cut ends higher that when it starts."
"Heh, not exactly hydrogeology, but the physics and mechanics are pretty much the same."
"Soo, what does the artist's work tell us here? What does this canvas and its subject matter tell us?"
He glances over and tries to read Wulf's face.
"Did I kinda freak you guys out with that?"
"Marhaa!" says, Kit, clapping, "well done. Oh no, I was fascinated by your performance, Ser Helgrim. I do wish you hadn't spilled water on the crime scene, but there's nothing for it. Perhaps we large sacks of liquid, and your smaller sack, should speak with other townsfolk and this Jalene. The light of the Dawnflower will illumine the truth, eventually."
He gazes down at the body again, rubbing his chin. "Poison will not go away overnight. I shall study that spell to detect it in the morning, and cast it upon our unfortunate victim. Lady Daphne, will his body be stored in an ice house or another cool place for a time? I am aware that in some places, a swift burial is preferred, including in many parts of the Kelish Empire."
Wulf just looks about and checks the floor for any broom marks trying to see if someone threw down sawdust. Remembering that taverns tend to throw it after a person throws up or if there is a fight, or gods forbid decides to relieve themselves on the floor.
Another examination of Tock's body confirms Helgrim's analysis: the tavern owner had his throat slit from behind, likely while incapacitated.
"That's amazing," Daphne says, awed by the dwarf lore keeper's explication before her attention is diverted by Kit's question.
"Ice house?" she asks quizzically. "We don't have any such thing around here. If they don't toss him right in the ground, the coolest place would probably be the cellar beneath the Tribunal."
A thin layer of sawdust coats the floor, but it is unclear whether it was added recently or merely what has been tracked in over time. Wulf is unable to glean any details from examining it.
Mr. Lawrence's normally cool demeanor is betrayed by his quickened breath, as he is clearly perturbed by the news.
"I didn't kill him, if that's where this is going," he says, casting a sidelong glance at the sheriff. "I wanted to convince Tock to speak against Kreed. He used to work for him as a legbreaker, so I thought he might have evidence about Kreed's crimes."
He pats the man's leg through the bars. "We will find the truth, Mr. Tim."
When there is a murder there is usually a motive. Who gains in Ergin Tock's death? I cannot see a motive for Tim. Also I wonder if anything was taken from the room?
"Where is the blood? Who cleaned the blood? There should be more blood.," Teasel says waving her hands frantically.
Turning to Freyja she says,"It sounds like neither of these people were friends to the constrictor people? Snake people? People running this camp. Why not frame someone else for the murder?"
Snake people? Perhaps I have missed something. Freyja asks in query.
"...Serpentfolk? this far north?" Kit looks truly confused now.
"You know the evil snake people who engage in shady dealings throughout the world? I've heard their name in passing before but I can't exactly remember which snake. The Asp?," she says with a quizzical look on her face.
Ah, the Aspis Consortium. Those I do know. Not snake people at all. Its just a name. They are the enemies of the Pathfinders.
"Ah, yes. There is an 'aspis' or 'asp' in Garund...an Osiriani word...the other is the 'hoplon' or shield, of very old Jistka-Taldane...," says Kit, and then pauses, a bit embarrassed. "The study of languages is a dear hobby of mine. We shall have to deal with the Hoplon..er, the Aspis Consortium in addition to the...Lumber Consortium? This is complicated," says the arcanist.
The deputies listen, dumbfounded, as the discussion of the Aspis Consortium continues.
"We don't know anything about that," Daphne says, somewhat confused. "As for whether anything was taken...obviously the murder weapon is missing, but beyond that we can't say for sure. If you talk to Jalene, she might be able to identify if anything else was taken."
The other deputy, Corin, takes on a more thoughtful look before addressing a question that Freyja posed.
"Who stands to gain? Kreed, that's who," he states
Daphne casts a surprised look at her fellow deputy, unused to hearing such bold speech from him. Perhaps he is emboldened by the presence of the party.
"He's not wrong," Daphne agrees. "Tock and Lawrence both used to serve Kreed in different capacities: one as a strongarm, the other as a snitch. If he caught wind that the two of them were conspiring, he probably feared what damage they might do to his power."
Then I will talk to Jalene. Does anyone know where she is/ Can she be brought here to us?
"True, Kreed is not one to let loose ends stay alive too long." He says as he gets off his knees and dusts the sawdust.
"Let us talk to her. But not all of us or else she might get spooked. Say Freyja was it. How about you and I speak with her, and the rest of ya help the deputies here get the body back to the Sheriff's office and help the investigation that way" he suggests leaning on his staff, wizened looking despite his young age.
I do not look forward to meeting this Kreed, but fear that it is inevitable.
Agreed. Freyja says with a smile to Sir Wulf's offer.
"Move swiftly, Freyja, lest she fly from the scene. Sir Wulf, to the Sheriff's, then."
Kit looks around for something to wrap the body in--a tablecloth, perhaps.
Daphne suggests using the threadbare blanket from Tock's own bed to wrap and carry his body. Between Helgrim, Kit, Teasel, and the two deputies - both strong of arm and back - the swaddled body is easily conveyed out of the tavern. Corin further suggests carrying Tock behind the buildings lining the road, skirting the hill, to prevent attracting too much attention and disturbing residents. Of course, you suspect he's also wary of further interference by the Iomedaeans.
You arrive to find Boggel finishing his conversation with a now lucid Mr. Lawrence.
.....
Wulf escorts Freya down a road that leads west from the tavern, passing a shrine to Gozreh. A cluster of wooden hovels huddles at the end of the road. With directions from the deputies, you are able to identify the barmaid's home. It is a simple, single room dwelling whose sturdy door sits closed.
"Ah, friend Helgrim. You have returned." He looks at all the newcomers with his large froggy eyes and shrugs. "With many new people. How was your investigation?"
Growing concerned for the barmaid's safety Freyja knocks at the door while quietly calling through it Jalene, are you there? We are friends and would speak with you. Please let us know you are alright.
"Boggel, I am Kit, of Qadira, here to assist. The man in the place of drinking had his throat cut in some other place, as the blood did not spray on any items therein. Have you checked the alleged attacker's clothing?"
Boggel blinks. He did not think to check Tim's clothing because he was not sure how Tock died. "Hello, Kit Uvkadira. We welcome your assistance."
"Jalene, Its Wulf. I am sorry to hear about what happened at Tocks' today. If you don't mind me and my friend here would like to talk to you about it. Also do hesitate to ask me if you need any food or water. I have some to share.' he says politely as any neighbor would.
Teasel locks at Boggel with a huge grin on her face. "Hi I'm Teasel. Also here to assist. What is your name before we get to the more gruesome details? "
"Ah, hello Teasel. I am Boggel Samm. We welcome your assistance as well." He tilts his head to one side and asks her, "Are you a dryad?"
"A moment, please!" a woman's voice calls out. There are some indistinct sounds, which you presume are Ms. Artem making herself decent. After a few thuds and the rustle of fabric, the door swings open.
Jalene Artem, the lovely barmaid of the Sitting Duck, stands in the doorway. Her oaken-colored hair hangs disheveled, framing a face that looks quite haunted.
"What do you want?" she demands weakly. Her lips quiver, and she looks quite upset. "I was trying to rest. It's been quite a horrible day."
"There are clearly some serious doubts about Mr. Lawrence's involvement in Mr. Tock's death," he announces, confirming that he believes your investigation thus far. "If Kreed is behind this, our new suspect is likely someone in his employ."
Wulf takes off his hat and holds it in front of him."Sorry to trouble you Ms.Artem, But we are helping in the investigation and would like to talk to you about what you saw this morning at Tocks'. It shouldn't take long."
We wanted to make sure you were ok Ms.Artem. We know you have been through a lot.And we want to prevent an innocent man from being convicted of murder. We hope you can help. She looks hopeful.
"Ser Baelson, do you have a list of Mr. Kreed's employees? Is there any reason why he would not use a drifter or professional assassin to take care of this? As our presence can attest, many persons appear to be passing through town," says Kit, rubbing his chin.
"Oh, it was so horrible!" she cries. "I walked into the Duck this morning expecting just another, normal day - helping Tock fix the furniture and sweep up the mess from the night before. When I didn't see him in the taproom, I didn't think nothing of it. But when I walked into his room in the back..."
Jalene pauses to choke back a sob, her reddened eyes watering. After a moment, she composes herself.
"And did you say innocent? I certainly hope you don't mean that Mr. Lawrence. You weren't there. You didn't see him sitting there like he were only sleeping off a hangover, with that bloody knife still in his hand..."
The barmaid again finds her words cut off, and she turns her face aside to hide her distraught expression.
"Hells, almost everyone in town is technically an employee of the Consortium, and Kreed by extension," the half-elf sheriff groans. "Even I worked for them as a logger, up until I smashed Pay Day's nose when he tried to extort a tax from me on an axe I'd already paid for.
"Of course, it is as you say Mr. Kit - many folks pass through town, and that includes an ever changing roster of loggers and hired muscle working for the Consortium. Tock himself used to work as muscle for Kreed before the Gavel set him up with the deed to the tavern. Rumor has it that he also keeps a few moles hidden around town, lurking around the tavern and the Rouge Lady, and they report malcontents and troublemakers to him."
Sheriff Baleson goes on to at least rule out one suspect: Boss Teedum. Even though "Pay Day" is Kreed's top enforcer, he possesses absolutely none of the subtlety or intelligence needed to arrange a killing like this.
He also doubts that Kabran Bloodeye or his criminal Redrock Guild was contracted to do the deed, since it seems unlikely that Kreed would allow Bloodeye to hold such potential blackmail material over him.
"If he hired some professional assassin, then my deputies and I are well out of our depth. I'm just hoping that Kreed was pressed for time and had to put up one of his own pawns to do the deed."
"My parents are. Im human....," Teasel replies to Boggel.
"This whole situations sounds like such a mess. I agree that the killer isn't a professional. I don't think an assassin would make as much mistakes as this murderer did but that still leaves so many people... Maybe if we could find the murder site. It should be hard to clean up all that blood. ," she says matter a factly.
"All are innocent until proven guilty, that is what we are trying to do is collect as much evidence as possible so that the verdict is just and ill refutable. I mean no one wants the death of an innocent man on our hands.' He says pulling out a hanky and handing it over to the woman.
"I know this is hard, but please any detail will help." He says his hat back on his head as he needed a free hand to grab the hanky.
"And you said you found him on the bed and Tim was sitting there next to him with a knife. Was it thin, was it broad was it more of a throwing style, curved or was it more like a knife from a silverware set?"He asks as he looks to her his face soft trying not to look gruff.
I mean he had been on the other side of this conversation more than once and was empathizing with her. No one wanted to talk about something so tragic so close to the tragedy.
In that fleeting moment between when Jalene mentions seeing the knife in Mr. Lawrence's hand and when she turns her head aside, Wulf notices that her eyes widen in shock or fear.
"Oh, it's so hard to remember," Jalene says, whimpering with sorrow. "Even though it was only this morning, it was simply so frightful that I couldn't bring myself to look at the knife for too long. But yes, Ergin was on the bed, as though he had collapsed there."
"There was a good amount of blood on Tock's chest, around his chair, and on the floor where he fell," Daphne says, responding to Teasel. "Of course, the killer may have used a sheet or some such to catch the extra - assuming it didn't just get on their clothes."
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” . . . So in summary, we know the poison, there was no struggle, Tock’s throat was cut from behind with a blade, we looked at the blood pattern. I can’t wait to see what the barmaid says. I’d let her get in close behind me if you know what I mean!? Har! Har!”
The dwarf sobers his expression and his brows dip down in suspicion.
”Except I wouldn’t because you can’t trust a woman that looks that good in a town like this and she works at the bar!? Ha! She’s workin for whomever has the deepest pockets, the most influence or the biggest—“
The dwarf’s expression changes again.
”Oh! I forgot to tell you Sheriff, we had a run in with the church folk and the Lady. I talked em down, but I did have to promise we would go to her if there was somethin she could do to help us get Justice and whatnot and we couldn’t do it ourselves like clerical magic, etc.”
”She means well, but she is green like a first decade burrow Sargent. With the right leadership, I think she and her flock form a powerful ally. I think Wulf is very respected by her and she respects you too, but just feels you and yours are, uh . . . maybe cautious and more methodical than she’d like. But again, that’s just because she is green. Maybe a bit of communication and coordination would be smart.”
”We need more unity and a plan when the Gavel starts lowerin his heel down upon us and this community.”
The dwarf elbows Kit in the ribs chummily and whispers.
”And I’d like to get a little more time with that northern gal you swept into town with. Somethin about all those furs and makin oaths and whatnot sure got my beard hairs a tinglin. You know if she’s into stout guys?”
"Jalene. I understand, in the moment of shock when you see the blood flowing from someone, the first time is always startling.I know its hard but try to remember. I know you have seen some men and a few women flash steel at Tocks' just try to think about what it looked like" he at first he was distant and then shunts back in earnestly hoping she can discribe the blade.
"Communication and coordination requires compromise, and I don't think the priestess is keen on that," he states.
However, before he can offer any further commentary on his tense rivalry with the Iomedaean, the increasingly coherent Mr. Lawrence raises a finger and speaks in a loud, halting tone.
"Don't trust Jalene Artem," he says sternly. "Like Tock and me, she reported to Kreed on dissidents. I'm not certain, but she may have also been involved in making some of them disappear. Helgrim is right - as one of the most attractive women in town, she could easily lull men into vulnerability."
Although your attention focuses on Baleson and Lawrence, you dimly register Magistrate Harg on the other side of the tribunal office. He stands on his toes, leaning up to speak with someone at the window. You can see the grizzled hair of Tabrik Splint there on the other side of the window.
"It wasn't one of the broad blades, like the ones the loggers carry or that the customers use when playing a round of knivsies. It was a kitchen knife, taken from behind the bar counter. I'm sure of it," she says, turning back to face you with renewed courage.
"I think Tock had brought it for the cheese they shared with the wine."
There was no cheese on the table in the crime scene you investigated. This suggests one of two possible scenarios.
First, given the sudden confidence in her description, rather than incorrectly remembering this detail, she may be simply fabricating it.
Alternatively, if there was cheese that the men had eaten before succumbing to the sedative and Tock's death, it means that Jalene may have still been at the tavern late last night to witness the men's meeting.
Kit blinks and jumps.
"At first with all of that eloquence and insightful talk, ser Dwarf, I was rather surprised to see you caparisoned in the fashion of one who falls into the raging battle trance. However, with your prurient comments about my traveling companion, I am pleased to see you revert to stereotype. And I fear I am not her...gatekeeper. You'll have to speak with her yourself."
Kit takes note of Mr. Lawrence's statements. "The wines. She wouldn't need to lull anyone with her looks if he was drugged. Boggel, Sherrif, is there evidence that this man was drugged? Or just--ah--professionally drunk?"
"In any case, the lady Artem is either an unreliable witness or one of many a suspect," says the Keleshite. "Perhaps there is a list of more employees who would be around the tavern that evening?"
Teasel looks at the Sheriff and says,"You know I can't really blame anyone for not wanting to compromise or coordinate with anyone currently. Im new here and even I'm a bit dismayed at how many potential suspects there are with this murder. Given time Im sure she'll be a bit more trusting.."
Upon hearing Kit's suggestion she exclaims,"That is a great idea. I think we should even investigate deeper. If the sheriff is right in that she was responsible for killing others maybe there are other mysterious murders that have occurred recently that we can investigate."
Boggel cocks his head at Kit. "Mr. Tim was drugged. I am sorry, but I am not sure what professionally drunk means." He quickly explains about the symptoms that Lawrence was showing and how his cure was enabled with the medicinal herbs. Somewhere along the line, the sheriff explains the drunk comment to Boggel. "Ah. No. That would require a different medicine."