Lorrent gives the old man one last nod.
Thank you for your time...and the information.
He pulls out 5 silver pieces and sets them on the counter.
I'm sure we will be doing more business soon.
Bereft on anyone to speak with, Adimov gently pokes around the shop, looking for a side door or perhaps a back room where the owner might be found.
Lorrent The man nods appreciatively and scoops up the coins, Stop by anytime.
Adimov The shop is full of ungents, salves, jars and bottles all filled with items of various color, consistency and smell. A large setup near the back features a myriad of tools (bottles, flames, pestles, mortars etc.) for preparation while another glass case feature fare that adventurer's might be more familiar with like tanglefoot bags, smoketicks and so on. A locked wooden cabinet flanks the only other door in or out of the shop along the back wall.
Adimov raps on the back door. "Anyone about?"
If no response is forthcoming, he will try the door to see if it's locked.
Lorrent leaves the general store then turns to Xaeken.
Unless you have any suggestions, I'm going to head to the city jail.
If Xaeken offers no suggestions, the Lorrent stroll across the street, enters the jail house and walks straight to the front desk.
Seemingly mute on the subject Xaeken follows Lorrent as the cleric crosses the way and enters the jail. Loud snoring can be heard in thesmall building and its hard to determine if it comes from the old man working a poorly worn desk facing the door or the disheveled pile of human being that seems to be featured in one of the cells along the back wall.
Seeing the clerk asleep, Lorrent takes a quick moment to look around jail house and gestures for Xaeken to do the same. If he doesn't find anything of interest, he'll try to get a better look at the man in the cell.
The tengu tilts his head at Lorrent quizzically but surveys the room.
Neither Xaeken nor Lorrent notice anything especially out of place in the area though you both spot a key ring and a secured chest on the back wall. You both also notice a flask tucked in the coat of the sleeping guard.
Adimov tests the door and finds it unlocked. A cold feeling of uncontrollable dread washes over Adimov as the gunslinger sees a river of red blood streaming down the stairs and poling just on the other side of the door. A lantern light flickers from the stairs above as the ascend into some sort of loft. The smell of iron is pungent and almost overwhelming.
Adimov curses under his breath, as he chokes back the bile that rises in his throat. He swings the door closed again, and takes a moment to compose himself.
He turns and exits the building as quickly as he can, standing confused in the morning light for a moment. Spying the jail just next door, he strides purposefully in that direction. He bursts through the door, face as white as a sheet, obviously surprised to see Lorrent and Xaekin already here.
"Where is the constable?" he says in a commanding voice. "There's blood everywhere in the backroom of the apothecary shop next door, I think there's been a murder!"
Suprised at Adimov's entrance, Lorrent studies the gunslinger a moment.
He then points at the clerk. (If Adimov's entrance didn't awaken him, Lorrent will kick the man's chair)
Find the constable and meet us at the apothecary.
The inquisitor makes for the door, loosening the morning star on his belt.
He rushes across the street, swings his shield over his shoulder and heads into the apothecary.
The man at the desk sputters awake at the sudden kick from Lorrent, Adimov's entry moving him nary a bit. Hazily he stands and mumble some sort of ascent as the group rushes back to the shop.
The group heads to the back door, and it is ajar. Yet the group sees only stairs and faint lamp light. The floor is dry and in desperate need of some oil or stain.
"I... there was a huge pool of blood on this very spot. T'was practically a river flowing down the steps. I swear it was so."
He begins to bound up the stairs. "We must find the shop keep."
Lorrent glances around the bloodless steps and frowns. He nods for Xaeken to follow Adimov.
He then casts Detect Magic and focuses and the back door and stairs.
Xaeken pulls his sword and follows the gunslinger, wary of surprises.
Adimov emergres into a single loft apartment featuring a handful of furniture, a locked cabinet, a variety of alchemical machines/supplies, a wardrobe and other basic living accoutrements. Nothing sinister. No people.
Lorrent scans the area and finds nothing suspicious. A few item in the shop radiate faint magic but are specific implements or wares, certainly nothing that should do what Adimov described.
Lorrent follows the others up the steps.
Anything?
Without waiting for a response, the inquisitor begins a search of the room himself.
"Empty!"
Adimov looks around for any signs of when the room was last occupied, or anything that might explain where the owner has gone.
From behind Xaeken, from the front door of the shop the voice of a woman is issued with some reluctance, May I ask what you are doing in my store?
The voice come from a woman, human, who appears to be in her mid thirties. Her clothing is conservative in that she wears a simple white shirt, leather pants, high boots, and a leather smock. Despite this mode of dress she is exceptionally fair (in every meaning of the word) with long dark hair, green eyes and an almost alabaster like complexion. Under one arm she holds a basket and in the other she holds a small glass vial. It would appear she is ready to throw it at a moment's notice.
Xaeken clears his throat and speaks louder than normal,Ah I apologize but my companions and I thought we detected violence or foul play. We mean you no harm. Xaeken plays his hands out before him at thigh height to emphasize his lack of threat.
Lorrent tries to hide his bafflement and quickly stows his weapon and shield.
Apologies my lady, my friend here speaks true. Our companion thought he saw blood, lots of it. We simply came to investigate. Do you perhaps know of any reason why he would have seen such?
Finding nothing upstairs, Adimov returns to the shop below, pausing in the open doorway as he hears the conversation between Lorrent and the shop owner.
The woman purses her lips at the odd stranger and a frown starts to set as Lorrent descends and offer his apologies, Just me alone that runs this shop and I'm the sort to keep things set and locked on my absence. No blood or anything else would simply be chased away by your presence...I would doubt you more, you all certainly made an impression on the town yesterday, but you have the trapping of a Pharasmite...
The woman doesn't stand down but she doesn't advance either. She seems to be mulling her options.
"I was the one who opened the door, and spied the blood." says Adimov, stepping fully into the room. "I'll swear on whatever holy books you'd care to offer that the story is just as the man told it. The door was neither locked nor barred, and you'll find that nothing is missing from the shop. But if you want to blame someone for the ruckus, then I'm your man."
As the woman speaks, both in response to him and the others, Lorrent listens intently and carefully observes her expressions and body language.
Lorrent can tell that she certainly is no longer thinking of throwing her object but is still unsure about entering the premises. Her frown deepens ever so slightly at Adimov's statement, How did you you get in here? You opened the door how?
"I clicked the latch. The door opened. It wasn't locked. When I saw no one was about I called and received no answer. I knocked at the back door, and opened it just enough to see the blood. Then I went to get help."
"If I may be so bold. We've heard from reputable sources that there is ill-magic about. It's said that there are ghosts about as well, particularly around the old prison north of town. This is exactly the sort of thing one sees in a haunting."
Again, Lorrent judges the woman's reaction.
I did not witness these things myself, but if my companion says they are so, then they are. It's quite possible some one, or something, was here before us. Perhaps you should see if there is anything missing, or out of place. Or perhaps something here that shouldn't be.
Man I am missing posts and everything. Bad DM! BAD!
The woman frowns at Adimov's description of events and sighs when the talk turns to "ill magic". At Lorrent's request she barely contains an eye roll and casts a glance at the ever present and ever quiet stranger with the two men.
Moving to put her parcels down and the strange orb back in her pocket the woman enters the shop and crosses to the group of strangers. Looking about she seems to only be half vested in "searching" and takes a conversational town, So do you lot normally go about, causing social chaos and prying the shopkeeps about ill fortunes and dark magic? Her tone has a mixture of idle interest and play.
"I can't speak for my new-found comrades," Adimov grins, "but as a matter of fact, yes. Of course I usually tend to be right, but let's not allow that to damped your jest."
"You seem neither overly surprised nor concerned about restless spirits." There is a question in his tone.
The woman inspects the upstairs compartment with just a cursory glance from the stair then descends, stripping her coat and putting on a leather apron. No, not particularly. Oh I know that the dead can rise and that haunting happen, I am no fool. But lets just say that the average Ustalavian and the average Ravengro citizen in particular can be prone to...how shall I put it...paranoia about the paranormal?
Lorrent raises an eyebrow.
I will concede that may be true for many, but others have good reason and we believe this town does so itself. Nevertheless we didn't mean to disturb you or your shop.
Lorrent inspects the woman more closely, particularly to see if she is Ustalavian herself or not.
"Neither I nor my companions are typical of Ustalav. Nor, would it seem, are you."
"Perhaps we should introduce ourselves. This is Inquisitor Lorrent, of the Church of Phrasma. Our foreign voiced friend is Xaeken, a traveler from far-off Tian Xia. And I am Adimov, a... problem solver, for matters such as these." Adimov gestures to his two companions, and bows low after introducing himself.
Xaeken merely brings his hand to his chest and nods politely at the introduction
The woman offers a nod and smile of her own. Jominda Fallenbride. Alchemist and skeptic. She punctuates her introduction with a slight wink.
As the four of you stand talking Jominda has a frown come to her face as she looks out the door of her shop. Look fellas. Play along will you?
Following her gaze you see a chisel faced man, mid thirties approaching the store with a set jaw and dark clothing with hat. He carries a sword that hangs from his belt and the light glints off a small metal badge that peeks out from his vest beneath his long dark coat. He has a look of concern and approaches the door at a quickened pace.
As the man approaches Jominda takes on a conciliatory tone, I do apologize again for the confusion gentlemen, it such bad manners of me to leave such experiments out and unattended...
The door opens with a bang and the man steps in looking each of the newcomers over with hawkish grey eyes. Never leaving the faces of the three stranger the man's baritone voice has a suspicion to it, Jominda. Are you all right?
The woman laughs and waves at the man, Sheriff of course. I scared these poor newcomers with a brew I was working on. It got everywhere. Luckily I had already brewed just the thing to clean it up before I left... She makes a hand motion not unlike pouring something on to the floor and offers no further explanation.
The man looks over the lot of you and it is apparent that both he and the shopkeep are expecting on of you to say something next...
As Jominda spins the lie, Lorrent instinctively watches her to see if he can pick up any of her "tells".
He then turns to the Sheriff and nods.
[b]Good day. I am inquisitor Lorrent Baldin and these are my companions, Adimov and Xaeken. This seems to have been an unfortunate misunderstanding as Adimov thought he saw evidence of foul play and we rushed here to help. We had no intention of causing a raucous.[b]
"Yes, I was… caught off guard. I feel terribly foolish about the whole matter. My humblest apologies for disturbing your deputy's sleep, constable."
The sheriff narrows his eyes at the lot of you seemingly still dubious about the course of events but Jominda clears her throat, Business, Sheriff. I respect their privacy I'd ask you to do the same...
The sheriff's grey eyes flick to the woman and you can see the barest flush of red meet his cheeks before being beaten back. He tips the brow of his hat with his hand and turns to leave. As he walks out he stops at the door and half turns, Nice to meet you gentleman. Stop by my office when you are done and perhaps we can discuss yesterday's goings ons? I've heard you wanted to speak to me...
The man leaves the store, the door resting to a close with a bang. Jominda exhales slightly and shakes her head. Damn fool of a man.
Jominda turns back to the lot of you and wavers her hand as though to dissipate a foul smell and then smiles at the lot of you, Well then. Fun mornings all around. Was there something else I could do for you gentlemen?
Lorrent slightly cocks his head to one side.
You don't seem to be a native. Or at least not like the others we've met.
The woman simply shrugs, Born and raised. I left for a while though to see a bit of the world.
I'd be intrigued to hear some of those stories sometime but at the moment I have things to do. Again I apologize for the raucous.
Lorrent heads toward the door, slows and turns back to the woman.
Before I leave, did you know much about Professor Lorrimer?
Jominda gets a thoughtful look then shrugs, Seemed nice enough and I did business with him now and again. Some thought him a crank of sorts but it was obvious to me that the man had seen plenty to justify whatever concerns he had. He was sort of "hot and cold" with the locals, ya know? Did his part more than once and helped good folks out but a man with that kind of knowledge in a place that fears difference? Hard combination for a stable life if you catch my meaning.
I do indeed. I imagine you feel the same yourself at times, though I assume your differences are more accepted since this is your place of birth.
Adimov follows Lorrent outside once the conversation seems to have reached it's conclusion.
"Well, don't I feel the fool. Now that I'm done sticking my foot in my mouth, where do we venture to next?"
Xaeken scratches at his face where the mask rests, The Sheriff seemed interested in talking to us, though I am not sure we need to rush to that conversation. But what just happened? I have not known you long Adimov but your concern was palpable. What could have affected you so?
"A reminder of old times best left forgotten. I prefer not to dwell upon it. Let us be on our way, wherever that may be."
I was intending to speak to the Sheriff sometime soon anyways. I suppose now is as good a time as any unless either of you have somewhere else you'd rather go first.