Treshiell looks around at the gathering then on Agnar. "Who is the lady Magister?"
Agnar leans in close to Treshiell and answers in a low voice. "That would be you, darlin'. That part about the gaze of the goddess falling on you and all that, that was definitely a threat."
"We am for taking them to dungeon now, yes? They am should be locked up for long time and kept from hurting good people of Thronehold."
Treshiell raises an eyebrow when Agnar whispers in her ear. "Is that so?" she says in her casual tone, displaying neither surprise nor emotion. "Either way I have nothing to learn here." Treshiell moves over to pick up Thaal. With the small viper once again resting on her shoulders she clenches her fist, and in response the webs holding the cultists bursts into dust, releasing the captured women. "Shall we go then? Bring the stone as well."
You place the women in cells, with Jon planning trials for them.
Finishing up your duties around the castle, you begin preparing to head out exploring again, when Jon summons you all to a meeting. When you arrive at his private hall, he introduces you to a ruddy human man, a big smile on his face, named Loy Rezbin and asks you to hear him out, saying he'd like your counsel.
"Well met, friends, if I may call you that. I know we don't know each other, but I hope we will in fact be friends soon.
[b]"My wife, Latricia and I have want to found a village in the Narlmarches. We've found a good spot at a ford on the Skunk River. There used to be a pair of tatzlywyrms there, if I read the signs correctly, but they seem to have been slain. I came here to ask Baron Jon for his support. We would of course in return be happy to be considered part of Hartsland."
He explains a bit more of the venture, answering any questions you may have before stepping out at Jon's request to let you discuss.
Prazil frowns at the memory of the treacherous dragon-snakes, but looks to the cleverer people of the group to say whether it's a good idea or not.
Treshiell studies the man for a long while. Eventually she asks "How are you treating your wife?"
After securing the cultists Orin will retrieve the stone before knocking over the rock-pile "altar". Handing the stone to Treshiell he asks "Is it magical?" Looking at the prisoners he adds "are any of them?"
After hearing The man out, Orin asks "An excellent idea. I assume that it will be more than just you and your wife on this expedition? Do you need anything? Supplies, seed money?"
The stone is not magical , nor are any of the cultists -- thought the leader did have some lingering auras from magic she'd cast before you caught her.
The man looks confused at Treshiell's question. "How am I treating her? As well as I can, I suppose." He gazes quizzically at the young witch.
"No, not just us. We have a couple dozen brave souls who want to come help us. We envision a nice community of like-minded folks who will work hard and enjoy the fruits of the earth. We could use some supplies, certainly, but mostly support. As I said, if your patrols could include us, help keep us safe from the dangers of the woods?"
"Kereek think this am good! New people, make Hartsland grow and make new peoples! This settlement am open to kobolds, if kobolds want to come work hard, eat fruit?" Kereek peers hard at the man, expecting an answer in the affirmative.
"Good", Treshiell answers and gives the man a smile. "Unfair treatment has been recently known to sow decent. We are pleased that you are not contributing to it."
"Er, yes, I guess as long as they don't cause trouble, kobolds could be welcome. We were thinking of calling it Tatzlford, so maybe that would even make some sense in a strange way," he says, clearly mulling the idea over.
Kereek smiles a toothy grin at the man's acceptance of a tolerant settlement and nods happily.
So, does it work?
Orin will take a table in the common room of the inn where Grigori is staying, with Kundal standing watch to keep other patrons away. Once the Bard enters the inn Orin will call out to him "Master Grigori, a word if you please." Assuming Grigori joins him and once seated Orin will offer him a drink "Lady Treshiell has been kind enough to tell the council of your employer and of your business here in Hartsland. I'm overjoyed to hear how much Pitax has taken an interest in our affairs and am considering sending a letter to their king thanking him for his interest and for the education in rulership which you have provided. Your endeavors have done much to enlighten us and I shan't skip on the praise of you and your services to our kingdom and the invaluable insight which you have provided." Leaning across the table, Orin stares into the man's eyes without blinking, showing no more emotion than Thaal might show to a mouse he has cornered before devouring "I'm sure you can imagine what the reaction in Pitax will be when such a letter arrives
and what the life expectancy of someone who is presumed to have double-crossed their employer might be?" Orin sits back in his chair and crosses his arms "In fact it might behoove this individual to seek warmer climes for his health's sake, don't you agree?" he says with a raised eyebrow.
"Are you threatening me?!" the bard splutters. "This is just what I've been telling people. Rule through intimidation and fear. You're no better than the Black Sovereign!"
He looks around for support, seeming surprised as he realizes no one is nearby other than Kundal.
"My good man, you misunderstand me. I don't make threats, I make promises." Orin smiles with all the humor of a shark circling a floundering swimmer. "I'm giving you a chance to save your life, which is far more than your employer would give you I'm sure. you can slip away quietly in the night, to where I do not care, or you can stay here and wait for the king's men to find you, and... you know. The choice is yours. If you choose to stay I and my men will do our utmost to protect you but we cannot guard you all the hours of the day and I also promise to hunt down your murderers should the need arise."
"I think I shall take my chances," the man says in a huff, "unless you wish to put your claims of an open kingdom to the lie right now."
"Well, marshall, what shall it be?" he says loudly, holding out his arms as if waiting for shackles to be put on them. "Will you drag me away to your foul dungeons?"
Orin manages not to rise to the provocation and stalks out, leaving the inn quiet once more.
The rest of the evening passes uneventfully, until you're roused the next morning. The castle guards and servants are all abuzz -- apparently the bard, a popular figure in the town, was murdered in the night!
”How sad”, Treshiell says and tilts her head sideways when she hears about Grigori’s death. ”We liked Grigori. Did Orin kill him?”
Agnar sighs. "We'll have to look into it. He was a troublemaker, but we can't act on murders and then just ignore another because it suits us."
Kereek looks uncomfortable. "Maybe him am killing himself? Because him am terrible person who am spreading lies?"
"The world would be an empty place if all the liars killed themselves", Treshiell tells Kereek.
Orin looks at Treshiell "No, it wasn't I. Although I can't say the thought didn't cross my mind now and then. I was actually trying to help the man by pointing out that his employers would be none too grateful if they found out we knew who they were."
"We should send someone to secure and search his quarters" Later Orin will gather up Kundal and head to the scene of the crime.
Kereek shrugs at Treshiell with a slightly forced grin. "Kereek am going to help!" He tells Orin, intending to go with them to search the premises.
Treshiell looks at Orin for a moment. "No, it was not you. Is the body still there? I would like to talk to it."
Kereek looks uncomfortable. "Maybe him am killing himself? Because him am terrible person who am spreading lies?"
Agnar snorts. "That man loved the sound of his own voice too much to do that. Chances are, someone just got fed up with listening to him. I can sympathize, but you can't kill someone here just because you don't like what they have to say. I still think we should have found a group of loyalists and convinced them to tar and feather the fat bastard and run him out of town on a post. Too late for that now though."
"Prazil am not understanding. There am angry troll king who am promised to hurt us but we am thinking about already dead bad man? Why am we not for making ready for Hagru- Halgru- for bad troll king?"
Kereek nods vigorously. "Prazil am speaking smart smart! Grigori am dead, bah! Goodbye to him! We am for getting kingdom ready for troll-war!"
The five of you make your way toward the inn, where a couple members of your local militia are standing guard.
Entering the room, you see Grigori's cold body on the mattress, which is soaked in blood. You can see an obvious hole in his chest, where his heart would have been.
A search reveals five potions, two scrolls, a bag of caltrops, a magical chain shirt, a magical buckler, a magical rapier, a magical ring, a magical pearl, and a very nice shortbow with 20 magical arrows, plus 232 gp.
"Damn. I don't know what I was expecting, but this wasn't it." Agnar frowns, peering into the whole in the dead bard's chest. "Looks like whoever did this wanted to make sure he wasn't coming back."
The cleric tugs on his beard, trying to recall if there is any sort of religious significance to the act (. He'll also examine the wound itself to see if he can determine how the heart was removed.
Treshiell circles the bed looking at the grisly scene with an eerie detachment. She dips her fingers in the wound, looks at her crimson stained fingers then uses the blood to paint three lines down her forehead. Her eyes fade out of view, becoming black as coal before turning back to normal just a few seconds later. ”He is still there”, she announces. ”This will take a while, but feel free to look around in the meantime.”
Kereek stares at Treshiell. "Treshiell can speak with dead man? It no involve making stomach spiders?"
Agnar thinks it was likely some sort of thin piercing weapon that went through the man's chest -- possibly an arrow or crossbow bolt or some sort of long needle.
The corpse suddenly seems to almost take a breath as Treshiell casts her spell.
"Why am his nice stuff still here?"
Before Treshiell finishes her spell, Orin will ask the other guardsmen to leave the room, leaving only the party members inside, before turning to place his back to the door. With arms crossed he waits for the Witch to finish.
”Welcome back, Grigori. For now”, Treshiell greets the spirit of the newly slain bard with a smile. She ponders for a moment then asks ”What can you tell us about your killer?”
Treshiell turns to the others in the room. ”Do you have a question you would like to ask Grigori?”
"Yes. Why was he constantly stirring up trouble?"
Prazil giggles, "Him am paid to, Agnar. That am silly question!"
"I was asleep when I was killed," the corpse intones. "For all I know, you could have killed me..."
"I was asleep when I was killed," the corpse intones. "For all I know, you could have killed me..."
"Just as useful dead as alive", Treshiell says and looks to the others to see if they have another question. "We have one more question. I am curious to what Grigori did between the talk with Orin and going to bed."
"Yes. Why was he constantly stirring up trouble?"
"He was paid by Pitax to cause dissent. Did you not know that?"
"Maybe ask him if Pitt-Axe send anyone else to mess up kingdom?" Kereek looks oddly pleased with the corpse's speaking.
"Do you think he would know the answer to such a question? He did not earlier when I asked him. Grigori was a paid agent loyal to their gold, not their cause."
"Am him for explaining how him am receiving istrun- itrus- how him am being told what to do?"