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Eadie pauses for breath and scratches her head.
“Well, Rialla Barleyhusk had some new season Wayfinder smoked googles in stock. But she wanted 50 gold for them!! And I only liked them about 10 gp worth.”
She says excitedly “Maybe we can try Belker, Haversacks Fifth Boulevard or JC Copper’s next?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Eadie thinks she catches a few dirty looks. “What? Grim, you’re the one who mentioned window shopping! Well, I suppose there’s time to get a drink at Erastil’s first.”
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Grim will also clean up and catch his breath from huffing and puffing.
"I ain't no spring chicken ya know. All this runnin can't be good fer ones Health. When do we go back to the pub? Or were we going to the greycloak station? Which if we are, I am sure we could have gotten help with from the cloaks we just fled."
The stout dwarf digs a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes the sweat from his brow.
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A short stroll bast the vendors leads to the the Greycloaks HQ. Much like the uniforms the Graycloaks adorn themselves in, their watch station in the Ascendant Court is plain gray and understated, but still ominous in its presentation. Large granite blocks create an imposing facade to the tall structure. The structure would be even more impressive if it weren’t on the opposite end of the block from the larger and far more ostentatious Chelish Embassy.
After a few minutes of talking with a clerk, you are permitted audience with the Captain of the Greycloaks, Captain Runewolf. He knows of the Pathfinders’ missing artifacts and is somewhat sympathetic, but tells you that based on the Graycloaks’ investigations, the crimes appear unrelated. One victim was shot with a poisoned arrow, while the other was ambushed and clubbed unconscious; the circumstances are too disparate to be obviously linked.
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"I see, well your assessment makes sense, Captain. Thank you for sharing your insight. Might I ask if you have a female in your ranks who matches this description." She goes on to describe the woman in greycloak uniform who was with the man who died in the shop while the shopkeeper was getting first aid supplies and not present.
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The Captain doesn't have much more to say about the case. He tells Eadie he doesn't know much about either of those men. He can direct you to the Clerk who holds all of the files. She is a nice elder lady who lets you look through what evidence they have collected. It is entirely files and documents.
Before leaving, the captain says that he has many females in his ranks. Your description is fairly vague and he can't narrow anything down.
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As the party enters the clerk’s office, Eadie says “Good Morning, Ma’am. I’m sorry, Captain Runewolf didn’t tell us your name. Bosses, huh? I find my own Venture-Captain, ol' Kreighton Whatshisface ... often forgets my name. It's inexcusable really.”
She tries a smile of solidarity with a fellow small cog in a big machine.
“Do you mind if we have a look through your files on the recent muggings in the God’s Market? We’re basically looking for clues regarding who might be behind them and why. The only lead we have regards a woman – perhaps a renegade Greycloak – tall with darker skin?”
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Eadie looks up from some papers she’s flipping through with the Greyclerk. She eyes her male companions and shakes her head.
Are Lore and I going to do all the work? Typical! Oh, I know …
She smiles sweetly. “Uh, Lhug? Would you mind getting Lore and I a cup of your delicious coffee, please?”
“How do you take yours, Lore? I like mine white with one. Thanks, Lhug! I appreciate it.”
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Eadie stands and walks over to Ruprecht. She looks over the alchemist’s shoulder to check that she understands what he’s saying, before pointing at a couple of the entries.
“Yeah, nah Ru. They don’t appear to quite be in alphabetical order.”
“In Chelish, it’s ‘i’ BEFORE ‘e’ except after ‘z’ isn’t it? Or is that Osiriani I’m thinking of?” *Confused*
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Lhug-Mor pulls around the saddle bag for the horse you've never seen and extracts a now familiar thick smoked glass jug with an odd lid. He sets the lid on the table and it is packed with rice paper pouches filled with a soggy black substance resembling dirt but smelling delicious. He pours three fingers of the thick brew into the utilitarian cups and reaches for his saddle bag again. He produces a gallon jug of Dark Taldane Dry Stout to pour it onto the coffee, thinks better of it, and reluctantly returns it to the bag. "Best not push my luck," smiling to himself. He links the cups between his fingers to return to his companions forming a clinking octopus of velvety Tien cold brewed coffee.
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Eadie has been discussing some of the details of Greycloak operations with Captain Runewolf's clerk.
"So the name of the division where people have to line up for licences and permits is called Queue Branch, Miss Moneycopper? How appropriate!"
I wonder how Lhug's coming along with that cof...
Like magic, a glass appears before the Warrior of Young. She takes a sip.
Oh it's so good! It's like it's from Tian Xia with love.
To the Dragon. "Thanks, Lhug! Nobody makes it better."
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Grim sees the jug of stout and gets irrationally exuberant...until Lhug Mor puts it away. The dwarf grows almost sullen...but smiles at the bararian.
"Ah thanks. Very um tasty. Needs a bit of sumthin not sure, but still can't complain. Thank you big guy. " the dwarf makes a attempt at a bow and nearly falls over.
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Eadie and the gang take a quick look through the documents and you all quickly become aware that several key documents are missing- the statements from Barleyhusk and Moltwin. The clerk become immediately flustered and frustrated. She has no reasonable explanation for the compromised integrity of the reports, and can only guess that one of the officers must be out working on the case.
As the Pathfinders sip on their coffee, they understand that the clerk is honestly perturbed by these events. She has nothing more to offer you (except cream and sugar).
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Eadie nods in agreement with her fellow front-rankers.
“Lhug, remember what you said when you singlehandedly saved us from that lich in Augustana? Something like, ‘Fool me twice … die by the katana.’ ”
“Maybe we should be on our guard for another ambush on the way to the alehouse. I would hate for some nasty surprise to catch us flat-footed.”
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Eadie nods in agreement with her fellow front-rankers.
“Lhug, remember what you said when you singlehandedly saved us from that lich in Augustana? Something like, ‘Fool me twice … die by the katana.’ ”
"Yes, you are lucky to have brought me along on that one! I eat liches for breakfast, along with my croissant"
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The Alehouse is much less crowded in the mid afternoon, but it is far from empty. A new monk is guarding the door and is more than happy to find Father Horace for you. He meets the Pathfinders in the alley behind the alehouse. Friar Horace is a thin, precise man with a hawkish nose. His description of events is precise and to the point. Aye, I saw what happened ; they attacked that Pathfinder right over there, the friar says as he makes a curt gesture to a patch of dirt in the alley behind the alehouse. They were wearing gray cloaks, but I don’t think they were guards. Your friend was holding her own, but then someone shot her from that rooftop.He makes another precise gesture pointing to a building across the alley. I called out for Brothers Ellis and Freel and grabbed my staff, but by the time I got outside, it was all over. We were able to help your friend back into the alehouse and Brother Freel went to fetch the Graycloaks.
I didn’t see what happened to the relic your friend was carrying—they must have grabbed it while I was getting my staff. When Brother Freel tried to follow the thugs, he found their cloaks discarded at the delivery entrance to the bakery. After that, things open up to the market proper and it’s almost impossible to follow anyone out there.
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The dwarf smiles as if he just invented penicillin or something.
"Mighty interestin as they say. Well, this probably is where we should thank ye and run off to check some forsaken roof. But I am too old and out of shape for all that nonsense. I been waitin all day for an ale from this place. A roof can wait a minute or three for a dwarf to catch his breath and quench his thirst!"
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Eadie smiles at the Brewing Brother. “Father, I don’t suppose you still have those discarded cloaks Brother Freel found near the bakery? I should like to search them thoroughly for anything unusual, like items hidden in the lining.”
"I been waitin all day for an ale from this place. A roof can wait a minute or three for a dwarf to catch his breath and quench his thirst!"
Eadie puts her hands on her hips and frowns at the dwarf. “Grim, surely that can wait. What about the mission?”
She *sighs* knowing she is probably wasting her breath and pulls her rope with a grappling hook attached out of her backpack and begins tying knots into it at regular intervals.
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"Good Friar Horace, since you saw the men when they removed their cloaks, did you notice anything distinguishing about any of them - scars, tattoos, clothing? And would you be able to recognize them if you saw them again?" Lore prods the brewmaster gently with her questions.
She turns to Grim after Horace answers her questions and gives him a reprimanding look. "Eadie is right, my friend Grim, this is not the time for carousing or drinking. How about just one quick one? Then we finish this mission... After we have solved as much of this puzzle as we can, then you will have all the time you need and want in the alehouse, alright?"
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Father Horace tells you that he is sorry, the cloaks are long gone by now. He can't remember if the Greycloak's took them or if they just fell into the crowd and were lost. The men were non-descriptive thug-like men. They could be anybody but they certainly were not Greycloaks, they just didn't act "right."
Lhug moves up the side of the building like a trained circus performer. The roof has perfect access to the Alehouse and is an obvious perch for an assassination. Lhug also finds an unused arrow lying on the roof. It appears to be covered in some type of poison.
Eadie starts to look around the ground while the boys argue over having a drink or not. Her attention brings her to a store entrance close-by and she finds a piece of paper tucked in between some bricks. The note reads: Barnel—Noon,Pitview Pub.