When the party wins, Falric jumps for joy and goes to congratulate the dwarves and the smith. "Good job boys, you had me worried for a second with that slow start. I guess you just wanted to increase the drama, huh?" The cherubic halfling charms you with his smile.
During the dinner, he stands on his chair and fills his belly good. When he sees Kurst, who seems to have an unsure and sad look on his face always, he tries to cheer him up, "No worries, you should know never to challenge a halfling to a throwing contest. I have not yet met anyone who could best us...maybe them elves but they're so high and tauty in their ivory towers and maybe some goblins, but they like to throw fire and that's just mean. Anyway, all I'm saying is it is okay to lose to me." Falric gives him an innocent smile.
Falric laughs at Rodrik's comment too. "I'm not looking to take your job, Rod. Just looking to kill some orcs and help my friend Elly here find treasures. Maybe the dwarves and smith can help us. By the way, Rodrik, Elly here is single..." The halfling arches his eyebrows mischievously as he tries to play matchmaker.
"I'm too weak for guarding. Like my buddy 'ric said, I'm in the area exploring. I've read so much about this area being rife with famous artifacts, I've had to come look for them myself. He was nice enough to accompany me and keep me out of trouble. For the most part. The orcs make it really hard to make any real progress, though. I've not given up hope yet. I'll find something and make a name for myself yet."
Rodrik brushes his brown hair back, "Aye, those damn orcs. Always the ever present danger, even for our settlement, which is pretty far south. I wish you the best of luck with your treasure hunt, m'lady." He then turns to Ric, "Elisen is beautiful, but my heart belongs to another." His eyes grow somber but he quickly dismisses the feeling and takes another sip of ale. "And what about the rest of you? What are your stories?"
Morti frowns thoughtfully at the question. "Ye could say I'm tryin' ta find my place in the world -- but don't worry yerself, it's not my place t' take yours. My clan has a craft that I do not, so fer th' now I'm makin' a craft of learnin' from ye here. Both ye who are from Trunau and th' followers of Iomedae have a strength t' ye."
He winks and grins, "But I should likely take th' halfling up on his offer of treasure huntin' an' give Tyari a rest from my presence at the Sanctuary. Th' presence of a dwarf can wear on one after a time, I hear."
A small older halfling woman appears and grabs Falric by the ear, "Ric, you leave that pretty lady Elly alone and stop trying to set her up. Yes, I heard ya....you're not exactly what I would call subtle! I will not put up with your mischievous ways, young man! Keep it up and you will be sleeping in the street instead of that nice bed in the Ramblehouse." Cham Larringfass winks at Elly as she scolds Falric and everyone has a good laugh.
As the dinner turns into drinks and the night gets darker, Halgra bids all a good night as Ruby must sleep early. The young girl kisses each of her champions on the cheek (the dwarves' beards itches her face!) and leaves the feast. Rodrik and the militia also refrain from drinking too much and a couple of hours later, they also say their goodbyes. The party agrees to meet at the Ramblehouse in the morning to plan their treasure-seeking expedition.
Falric yelps in pain when his ear is grabbed..."Ow, ow, ok...c'mon auntie I was just having some fun. Elly knows that." He caresses his hurt ear. "Ya know, auntie, I am an orphan. You should be nicer to me!" He hides behind one of the dwarves when his aunt glares at him.
"Ok, so we have another one for our treasure hunting expedition. I am sure Barundar will join and you too, right Cabe? I mean, how much fun can smithing really be, after awhile? Right?"
After Morti has given his story, Barundar gives a firm nod and offers his own.
"Barundar Hammerfirst, at yer service. Ah come from Janderhoff, lik' Morti...we go back, me 'n' him! Come tae fin' oot that we hae ancestors wha liked tae go giant-hunting 'n' wur guid at it. Back hame, though...ain't na one thare too interested in thaim whit's come afore, at least nae as much as I'd lik' thaim tae be, bit ah did hear stoory through Morti o' a dwarf livin' 'ere in Trunau by th' name o' Agrit. She left hame efter a fallin' oot wi' th' fowk wha thought she wis tae much interested in book-learning, bit th' book-learning is whit a'm efter, 'n' a'm hoping she kin tell me mair aboot mah ancestry 'n' th' history o' th' Flintbreaker bloodline."
"You know my story. Nothing much to tell. Dragons took my folks, I was bandied around for a while, came here, worked in the smithy and pulled you lot into the water."
Cabe is happy to have an excuse to leave town for a while, uncomfortable with the notoriety that is sure to follow this exhibition.
Elisen clasps her hands together excitedly. "Sounds like we have a team, then! Don't stay out and celebrate too long, boys. Fame and excitement await us tomorrow. We can figure out all the details in the morning."
Being a respectable lady, Elly heads to bed at a reasonable hour, and sleeps with dreams of countless treasures dancing in her head.
“The hopeknife is more than a weapon—it’s a symbol. To Trunauans, earning your hopeknife is a mark of your place in the community. When you earn your hopeknife, it means you are wise enough to make adult decisions, old enough to know what it means to fear, and strong enough to protect your neighbors, even if it costs you your own life.”
“Even though she’s the Chief Defender’s daughter, Ruby has to pledge to uphold the Standing Vow in order to receive her hopeknife, just like the rest of us. She must agree to hold Trunau against all comers and to never forfeit her homeland willingly. That is the Vow.”
“Rumor has it that Rodrik Grath is next in line for the position of patrol leader after his old man Jagrin retires. Jagrin’s a good commander, but he’s getting old, and it might be time for some new blood in the militia’s leadership.”
“Shame about the graffiti all over town. The militia’s got better things to do than clean up youngsters’ messes, but even stranger is how long it lasts. Try as one might, soap and water don’t do a thing to those marks!”
“Have you read Rodrik Grath’s latest work, ‘The Other Side of Contempt’? He’s our own home-grown writer. It’s a controversial poem, but that’s what makes Rodrik’s writing so strong—he’s not afraid to push limits.”
“Rodrik Grath is slated to replace his father as patrol leader, but from what I hear, he’s more concerned with his poems and plays than with militia matters. He’s diligent, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not quite sure either of the Grath boys is ready to lead the town’s defense.”
You all retire to your respective rooms with plans to meet at the Ramblehouse for breakfast and discuss your treasure-hunting plans or perhaps look further into those rumors you heard about the night before. However, as always the case, life happens and interrupts well-laid plans....
The morning sun's rays pierce through your room's window and wake you in a groggy state. You hear movement outside your room as Cham passes by the corridor waking some of the other guests, primarily halflings, but the establishment is open to all races. As you gather your senses and debate whether to get up or sleep in a few more minutes....suddenly a scream of horror reverberates through the Ramblehouse! You are sure it was Cham's voice!
Due to your craft and profession, you are an early riser, so you have been up about an hour studying and preparing your spells for the day, when you hear the scream! You easily recognize it as Cham's voice as well!
You are half a block from the Ramblehouse, having agreed to meet Elly and Ric early in the morning, to take advantage of the opportunity of eating Cham's famous porridge....when suddenly, you hear a woman's scream from inside the Ramblehouse!
Eli was sitting crosslegged on a rug in the floor with her spellbook in her lap. She smelled the aroma of the melting brown sugar into the cooked oats. Just as she finished and began packing her supplies, she heard the scream from her friend. She buttoned her bag, and threw it on her shoulders, before making for Ric's door. She rapped twice hard and called out, "You heard that? Something 's wrong. I'm going to check it out."
She didn't wait for the halting, instead heading downstairs to find the source of Cham's pained cry.
A groggy Falric leaps out of his bed, searching under the pillow for his scimitar. He tries to shake the cobwebs loose, as he finally grabs his weapon. He hears Elly's voice outside his door and screams, "I'm right behind ya! Auntie, we're coming!"
Elly and Ric rush down the hall to the source of the scream. You see a shaken Cham walking backwards out of a room, her face pale with fright. As she tries to speak, tears start forming. "I was coming to wake him...but there he was..just laying there, so pale...it's Ro.... ..Rod....Rodrik! He's dead! I think he committed suicide! That poor boy! Oh my goodness! We have to tell someone..his father, his brother!"
Cham steadies herself as she calls outs, "Milo, Davis! Get the milita now! Tell them to come immediately! There's been a death!"
Assuming Cabe and the dwarves rush into the Ramblehouse, they catch that last part as they walk in and see Cham and Ric and Elly on the second floor balcony. Two halflings dressed in aprons, presumaby Milo and Davis, yell out, "Yes, Ms. Larringfass, we will get them immediately." They take off their aprons and rush toward the Longhouse, where the militia reside.
By now, the doors of the other residents of the inn have opened and you hear a murmuring about who died circling through the Ramblehouse.
"Cham, keep the rest of the crowd out of this room while we look around. I've never heard anything that would make me think Rodrick would do that to himself.". She takes a deep breath, and casts a quick spell, tinging her in silver for the briefest of moments. She then starts a thorough search of the room.
Perception
"Yeah, I agree with Elly. He said his heart belonged to another. He would not kill himself all of a sudden." Falric ducks into the room and examines the body first for any sign of foul play and then looks around for a suicide note or such.
He also signals the dwarves and Cabe to come give them a hand.
Barundar immediately changes direction from his appointed rendezvous, heading straight in the direction of the scream he heard. As he runs, his grip tightens on a length of chain in his hand, attached to a heavy iron ball on the other end. "What's goin' oan? Whit's th' trouble?" he hollers as he gets to where it seems like things are urgent.
Cham agrees to Elly's plan but warns her, "Hurry up, if the militia catch you in there, there'll be hell to pay!"
Barundar walks in to the inn and sees the commotion on the second floor and two halflings dart past him into the street. He sees Falric motion for him and the others to come upstairs. When he reaches the 2nd floor, the whispers of Falric and his suicide circulate through the Ramblehouse.
Rodrik's room is identical to the ones belonging to Elly and Falric. It contains only a single cot and a writing desk. The cot is a cheap affair with a straw-stuffed mattress on a wooden frame, now stained red with blood, while the desk is a slightly nicer piece of furniture that has nonetheless been chipped and worn by time. In the corner is a washstand with a porcelain bowl and water jug. A cracked window in the southern wall is the only exit other than the room’s door.
On the bed lies the pale body of Rodrik Grath. The silent corpse is quite a contrast to the gregarious Patrol Captain you were speaking with only hours ago. He seems peaceful and you can clearly see his wrists fatally lacerated and his bloody hopeknife in his limp hand.
You do not see a suicide note anywhere, but as Falric looks around and examines the corpse, he notices an odd discoloration around the corpse's lips.
.
Falric gets a closer look at the corpse and wracks his mind for knowledge from his alchemical hobby.
The clever halfling attributes the discoloration on Rodrik's lips as the aftereffects of a type of poison, specifically Oil of Taggit. It is an ingested poison that causes unconsciousness in the victim immediately upon onset, usually for a couple of hours.
Cabe turns almost as pale as Rodrik, thinking about his own last words to the watchman. He mumbles a silent prayer to speed the dead man on to the Boneyard, and kneels down reverently to examine the corpse for any more clues that might be there, like how long he has been dead.
"He didn't do this to himself. Not the Rodrik I knew. But why?"
Falric whispers to the party, "Someone drugged him with a poison that knocked him out. An ingested poison. He did not kill himself. But why? And why was he sleeping in the inn? He's a local, right? Doesn't he have a place to stay? Let's keep searching."
Falric looks around the body for anything else suspicious.
Morti barrels in on Barundar's heels. killed--wit' 'is own hope knife? Wouldna ha' did that to himself, from all I've seen here. Somebody must ha' been sendin' a message, t' use 'is knife as th' weapon."
He joins the others in quickly looking for signs of a struggle or anything out of place.
"I dinnae know much aboot anatomy, bit wouldn't it be pure tough tae slit baith o` yer ain wrists?" Barundar asks, scratching his head as he watches the others survey the scene. He takes particular care to look at the direction the slits are moving in; that the slit on his left wrist moves from left-to-right and that the slit on his right wrist moves from right-to-left.
After that examinination, he helps Morti and Falric search for other evidence.
Seeing Cabe inspecting the body, Morti asks quietly, "'ow long's the man been dead, then? Poss'ble the killer is still in the building, or long gone b'now?"
Unless he spies something in the room to investigate further, he'll then step out in the hall and eye the other patrons longering around. "Th' militia's been sent fer, and should be 'ere shortly. Let's all back inta our rooms, then, to stay outa their way."
"Someone needs to tell Cham what we have found out. And someone needs to tell the brother. He might have more information about why Roderik was here last night. But I agree, for someone to have used his very own hopeknife, in this town, has a dark soul."
Cabe determines that Rodrik has been dead between 7-8 hours ago. As it is now about 7:30 am, you surmise he was killed sometime around midnight. The priest can also tell there are no defensive wounds on the body and that suspiciously, there are no hesitation marks on the cuts on the wrists, which are common in suicide victims. Also, his expertise leads him to believe that the cuts were not self-inflicted but made by a third party.
Ric searches around the corpse and bed and is about to give up and move on elsewhere when Morti suggests searching perhaps under the bed. Falric follows the dwarf's advice and looks under the cot and the wooden frame and finds a crumpled up note stuck to the upper part of the frame under the bed.
Note under bed
Meanwhile, while everyone else concentrates on the bed and the corpse, Barundar gives the writing desk a look over and he fortuitously senses something out of place when he passes his hand under the desk. He investigates and finds a false bottom, wherein he finds another piece of paper hidden away.
Receipt
As you start to read and decipher the clues you have found, you hear men approaching the Ramblehouse from outside. You presume it is the militia. You have maybe 2-3 rounds before the militia enter the establishment.
Falric passes the note he found to Morti and rushes over to the basin. "Ya know, if the poison is ingested, maybe someone poisoned his drink. But since the effect is instantaneous, it would have to be a drink in this room. And since I didn't find any flasks on him, the only other liquid I can think of is this jug of water."
Falric quickly pours out his waterskin into the basin and fills it up with the water in the jug to later alchemically analyze it to see if his theory is right. If he finds a waterskin or flask, his plan is to do the same to that liquid.
After filling up his waterskin with the water from the jug, he quickly leaves the room so he does not get himself, the party, or his aunt in trouble.
"I say we leave the notes behind. The guard should also quickly piece together that this wasn't just a suicide. Now we have names to follow up on. Treasures can wait...there's a murderer here in town and they must be ferreted out!". She follows Falric out of the room.
"Hold! A've foun' something, as weel. Whit dae ye a' mak' o' this?" Barundar asks, showing the others the receipt that he found hidden in the false bottom of the drawer.
"I dinnae know whit tae mak' o' it, bit ah bet ah know wha we kin go see tae fin' oot more." he says, tapping his fingertip against the Urnsul's name on the paper.
From the hall, Morti concurs with Elison. "aye, leave the notes fer th' guard to look at as well. 'Th' more eyes th' better to see th' truth', my old teacher used t' say."
Unless somebody says otherwise, Morti will head for the stairs to meet the militiamen.
"Are we sure that's wise? Wha' if onea them is bonnie well in oan the whole thing? If nothin' else, Ah'm thinkin' we shoudnae tell more'n the captain of tha guard wha we've foond."
-Posted with Wayfinder
Cabe twists in discomfort. "Yea, I'm also in favor of leaving the notes. Not that I trust anyone after this. Something bad is going on, even worse than this murder, and I can't make heads or tails of it."
Ric takes his sample of water from the jug and the party vacates the room just in time, as Kurst and and older man, presumably his father Jagrin, burst into the Ramblehouse, along with other militia members. The older man, obviously in command, yells, "Where is it? Where's my son's body? I can't believe it." Cham steadies herself and shouts, "Up here, Captain. Found him this morning." Jagrin and a shocked Kurst rush up the stairs, as Jagrin directs the other militia to seal off the scene and not let anyone else into the building.
Jagrin and Kurst rush past the party and other guests on the second floor and into the room. Seconds later, upon seeing the corpse, Jagrin falls to his knees and wails, "NOOOOOO! Not my boy!!" You hear shouts amidst the man's tears as he looks upward, "First, those orcs take my beloved wife from my side!! And now this!! How much more pain do you expect me to take??!" As he stands up, he looks to Kurst, who is in a bewildered state of shock, "I am sure that half-b*!%# Brinya is the cause of this! I told him not to get involved with her and he would not listen....I can't do this!"
Jagrin storms out of the room ignoring pleas from everyone and leaves the Ramblehouse, leaving a shocked Kurst in the room, looking like he just lost his best friend. One of the militia members present, Simon from the puzzle challenge from last night, starts shouting, "Someone contact Tyrari and have her send her priests to collect the body."
As the guards start moving, the party who is closest to the room, sees Kurst muttering at the corpse, "No, no....you would never do this, Rod!"
Cham, meanwhile, shakes her head in sadness, "That poor boy..why kill himself?" That seems the common sentiment throughout the Ramblehouse. A small crowd starts gathering outside as well, as news of Rodrik's death spreads through the small town.
"we'll tell Tyrari," volunteers Morti. good to have an excuse to leave, now that the militia can manage here.
Barundar stands still for a moment, unsure of what to do. Even from their cursory look around the room and at the body, it seemed obvious that the "suicide" was staged...that Rodrik had been murdered. He wasn't even a trained investigator and he could see it! Why couldn't they?
Before they are rushed out of the room by the guards, Barundar stops at Kurst's side. "You dinnae know me, sir...Barundar Hammerfist, oot o' Janderhoff. Ainlie bin in Trunau a few days noo, bit ah will tell ye ah think thir's mair tae this than meets th' eye. If yi''ll need ony hulp while ye'r lookin' intae it, ah will be glad tae len' a hand." he offers, then gives the man a crisp salute before moving off with the others.
Brinya? Who is that?
Eli pokes Ric to be sure he heard the name the brother mentioned. "Who is Brinya? That's another name we need to check out. If she knows something, then all the better," she whispers.
When he sees his auntie despondent over the suicide, Falric approaches Cham and whispers to her, "Auntie, it doesn't look like a suicide. Foul play may be involved. Will tell you more later."
He then moves to Elly's side, "Definitely, this Brinya is someone we should talk to. Want to talk to Kurst? He looks like he's in charge and he's questioning the "suicide" as well. Maybe we should feel him out."
Falric approaches Kurst with a friendly face and his silver tongue, "My condolences, Kurst. Remember us, from last night. Rodrik was a good man. I don't think he would have done this to himself. He seemed so full of life and love..any thoughts?"
The militia soldiers move past the dwarf. "Those were our orders not yours. We will get her. Just don't get in the way of our investigation."
Cham's face turns to shock when Falric mentions foul play. "Please keep me informed." She excuses herself and heads downstairs.
Kurst is a little taken back when Barundar speaks to him. However, given his state of shock and the fact that he can hardly understand the dwarf, he merely mouths a thank you.
When the charming halfling engages Rodrik and mentions his brother by name, he seems to snap out of it.
"I know it looks like a suicide, but I don't believe that for a minute. I know my brother, and I know he wouldn’t kill himself. By his own account, he was in love with Brinya, a half-orc weaver, and was planning to marry her. Our mother was killed by orcs years ago on one of their failed attacks on the town. As a half-orc temptress, as he calls her, you can understand why my father disapproved. There’s something fishy about all of this, and I won’t dishonor Rodrik’s memory by accepting his ‘suicide’ without ruling out that something else happened. Something else has to be going on. Unfortunately, Rodrik was the best investigator in Trunau; if he were on the case, solving the mystery of his death wouldn’t take long, but with just me left, given my father's state, we might never know what really happened.” Kurst sighs heavily. “I simply can’t handle the investigation and tend to my family duties at the same time. I may be a patrol captain, but right now, I feel my responsibilities as a brother outweigh my other duties. Still, I can’t just let this lie. I’m afraid I’ve exhausted all my other options—the members of Trunau’s militia are competent defenders during siege times, but they’re not sleuths by any means. I need your help. Will you and your friends help investigate my brother’s death? You demonstrated intellect last night. We need smart people on this case. I will help you, however, I can. I feel I can trust the lot of you with this.”
"I can't speak for the dwarves or Cabe, but Elly and I are here to help. In fact, we think Rodrik may have been poisoned." Falric shows Kurtz the discoloration on Rodrik's lips. "I have a theory but need some privacy to test it out." Falric closes the door to Rodrik's room and pulls out the waterskin and pours the water into a clear glass. "Everyone is a suspect right now." He shakes the glass and whiffs it as well as minor taste to determine if the water was laced with Oil of Taggitt.
Cabe's voice is thick. "Of course we'll help. Let's talk to Brinya.
As he group was bringing the brother in, Eli saw no reason to keep anything from him. "Look at these two notes we found. One of them seems to make it clear that someone wanted him silenced. Do any of these names ring a bell with you?"
Barundar stands up tall (for a dwarf) and straightens his back, giving a firm nod. "On mah honor 'n' th' honor o' mah ancestors, we wull discover th' truth!"
"Aye, tis a foul deed, an' neither your family nor th' good folk o' Trunau should suffer a fiction o' Rodrik's death.
"Th' note 'ere says Rodrik was investigatin' somethin' -- did 'e e'er talk t' ye of what 'e was workin' on? An' are there folk -- beyond those 'ere in this room -- new t' town that ye think mighta written this?"
In addition to taking in Kurst's reaction, Morti also tries to do a quick scan of his erstwhile companions while he speaks. Beyond Barundar, I don't know these folk from Droskar -- just because we were thrown into some carnival games together doesn't mean I should leave them out when talking about newcomers.
Falric's gut feeling pays off when he finds traces of the poison Oil of Taggit in the water from the basin jar.
Kurst raises an eyebrow when Cabe mentions Brinya. "Do you think she is somehow involved? From what I know from Rodrik's tales, she and Rodrik were very much in love. This news will impact her greatly. Please be gentle. She can be found at Brinya Kelver's Lodgings, a boarding house for residents of Trunau who do not own property. It's near the Commons and the Commons Beacon."
Kurst feels a little relief at the party's offer of help. He winces when he reads the letters handed to him by Elisen. "Looks like this first one is love note. But this is addressed to someone named Melira. To the best of my knowledge, no one by that name lives in Trunau. Hmmm, and this receipt...looks like Rodrik ordered a new hopeknife but this engraving.. Wait a sec...." You can feel the wheels turning inside the young guard's head.
Kurst picks up the hopeknife in Rodrik's hand and then pulls from under his armor the hopeknife tied around his neck. He compares them and they look completely different. "This is not my brother's hopeknife. Ours were identical. In true Trunau tradition, when lovers get engaged, they exchange hopeknives as a sign of love, so perhaps this is Brinya's. Cabe, this receipt is from Sara's shop. Looks like another smith, Urnsul, was working on the blade. Maybe Sara has some more information for you."
You soon hear priests from Sanctuary arriving to claim Rodrik's body. Kurst prepares to take charge. "Look, I have to handle the delivery of the body, as well as tests for this poison you mentioned Falric and other details. Why don't you all go see Brinda or speak to Sara and I will be along soon after I am done here. Keep only me informed of any progress."
Falric is glad to hear that his theory regarding the poison turned to be spot on. "Let's see what we know. Someone poisoned Rodrik's water in his room. He came into his room...at what time did he get off his guard shift last night? Probably had a drink and passed out. Then the perpetrator, who was maybe someone lying in wait for him inside the room or close by, entered his room, cut his wrists, and left him there. So we need a log of last night's visitors in the inn. Hmmm....you mentioned, Kurst, that Rodrik was the best investigator. Do you know what he was currently investigating? Maybe his work got him killed. That note we found under the bed mentions a "meddling patrol captain poking around" who is no longer going to be a threat. Perhaps it was the killer's note that fell off while he was in the room. We definitely need to know what Rodrik was investigating and speak to auntie for that log. Those are my thoughts."
"Sounds logical, Falric, and diabolical. Though we were brothers, we did not see each other much during shift hours. Perhaps you should speak to Rodrik's best friend and partner in the militia, Omast Frum. He can be found on patrol or at the Longhouse."
"I say we speak to Brinya first. Someone needs to break the news to her soon. It'd be terrible if the gossip mongers told her first. And she might know something more to add to the story. We can handle the other two leads after. I know I'd want to know as soon as possible."
"Aye, that's an idea ah kin git behind. News lik' this shouldn't be given by th' toun crier or someone seekin tae dae as much damage wi' it as thay can."