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Luurg grabs up the potions when they get discovered "What's deez tings? Med'cin maybe? Lemme see, Luurg got a great nose fer deez tings!" He then takes them, one at a time, popping the corks and taking a deep snort, followed by two short and shallow 'mini snorts'. After a few moments of wiggling his fat, bulbous nose he recorks the bottles and passes it back. He repeats this same process for each bottle.
"Well dat's easy. First one, dat dare is good med'cin potion, I tink dey call it mod'rate med'cine potion. Den dat second one, dat one is weird... its like liquid eagle smiles? Makes you extra friendly, not sum'ting I need, but maybe good fer Serge? Make you not so sad?"
Then he gets to the final bottle "Dis one here, extra good one! Its an Elix-ear. Make you fast on yer feet, rollin around, like one of dem sly half men at da faire!"
When they're ready to leave Luurg grabs up his happy, fed spear and waves goodbye to the nice woods to go back to the stuffy city.
As they head to the mansion Luurg stays to himself in the back, knowing people like this don't care much for Luurg and instead keeps his eyes open from fancy fruit trees on the trip. No one ever stops for dinner, so sad!
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"Well, it's not that bad. Not like the Abyss- that's the real chaotic hell." As Sheela speaks, Princess Sparkletrot snorts, glares at her, and runs away until she returns to the celestial realm. "Oops, she takes real offense to any mentions of hell. So sorry!"
Sheela frowns when she sees the remains and hears about the potions. "We'll put your equipment to good use. Rest easy."
"Luurg is so acute- and cute as well- when he identifies these things! An Elixir of Tumbling is useful when you need to jump, roll, balance and evade angry guards for an hour."
"I believe Serge or myself may best utilize that potion of Eagle's Splendor."
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Sheela waves hello to the guards. "I see you've kept the city safe while we risked our lives in the deadly forest. Thank you so much!" She gives them a peck on the cheek and catches up to the party, rolling her eyes along the way. "Bravery is overrated."
Sheela walks right up to the door pull and knocks, straining slightly as she lifts the heavy knocker. "Sheela Kolphan! From the Kolphan family! I mean, the Pathfinder Society! We have some questions we need to ask Sir? Lady? Rutowski. Please open up."
A chime rings as Sheela pulls the cord. As the bell’s resounding note dies, a man, apparently Rutowski’s manservant and guard, appears in the doorway. Well dressed in coattails and powdered wig, the man regards the motel crew assembled upon the doorstep with a mixture of surprise and annoyance as he looks down his nose at you all. ”Good day,” he says, taking in your appearance, ”How may I help you?” Sheela repeats her request to speak with the master of the house, to which the doorman replies, ”I am afraid the Master is not seeing any visitors at this time, especially without an appointment. Good day to you.” He bows to the party and begins to close the door.
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"W-wait! I DO have an appointment, the master knows me well."
"Besides, you wouldn't let little old me inside? Really?" Sheela brazenly casts Charm Person to get the snobby butler to change his mind.
The doorman pauses for a moment as Sheela shouts that they have an appointment. He stops to think for a moment, and begins to explain that he keeps Rutowski's schedule, and no visitors are scheduled today, but before he can finish his sentence, Sheela casts her spell.
The manservant easily resists the effects of Sheela's charms, however, and now looks rather perturbed. "Madam, I will ask you not to resort to such petty tricks again. Now, you mentioned a Mister Vilk, was it? If you will kindly give me the message, I will pass it along to my master, and you...people...may be on your way."
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"Sure, I'll leave a message!" Sheela huffs. "Tell your master that we're trying to save Master Vilk before the next full moon. Which is tonight, by the way. And we'd like to know where he probably is tonight, before some overeager hunter catches him first!"
"Pass that on to your ever busy boss." Sheela's hair flutters, blown by an unknown wind. She taps her foot impatiently. Once the servant closes the door, she sticks out her tongue and blows a rasperry. "Hmpf. How rude."
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and you...people...may be on your way
This tone falls badly with Marduk, having been treated as a 2nd rate citizen before in the peninsulae.
He steps forward, uprighting himself to his full 6ft 5 inch.
"Sir, by all means i can understand people having schedules, and i could respect such things. What i respect, is being adressed in that way."
He bares his canines.
"We are here for only a short conversation, but by the gods, my fist is much harder than your ego. So, i -humbly- request admittance for a few minutes, or you and i are going to have a little chat before we have a civilized conversation with your master."
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Luurg watches the back and forth between them and the doorman I thought she was gud wid men? She must not be his type?
He quickly raises a large green paw before the man heads inside to close the door "We got a cure fer Meester Vilk's problem, some of dat dare wulfbane stuff! Super dooper fresh!" He reaches into his backpack to grab it but he has a hard time reaching over his big shoulder, then around his fat belly, then the other side before the door is shut. He finally takes off his pack and pulls it out, but far too late to show it off. "Oh mang, where he go? I hope he beliefs us!"
As Marduk straightens to his full stature and glowers at him, the manservant suddenly realizes how what he said had sounded, and his eyes go wide with fear and shock. ”Oh, my good sir, my sincerest apologies. Please, come in, all of you. My master asked me not to allow any visitors today, but perhaps he will make an exception for people seeking to help Master Vilk.” With a deep bow, he steps back from the doorway and beckons you inside.
The manservant, who introduces himself as Almoch, leads you through the large, but somewhat dilapidated mansion to his master’s study. After knocking lightly on the closed door, he enters and announces you, then waves you into the fire-lit room. A fine-featured gentleman of mixed Taldan and Ustalavic descent reclines on a fainting couch, though his pointed ears and upturned eyes betray an even more exotic ancestry. He gently lays aside the book in his hand.
“You’re clearly not locals, nor are you expected. I know only Pathfinders to be so bold. Your fearless little Society has already taken enough from me. Leave or I will call the guards.”
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Serge unbuckles his armor and hefts it down onto the floor. "We mean no harm. We are only here following a lead, and you must be Mr. Rutowski." He steps ahead and offers the man a handshake. "Whether or not we are Pathfinders, why don't we just speak like civilized people? We are looking for details about Vilk. We want to help him. Is that really so wrong that you will summon the guards to stop us?"
Rutowski sighs and retakes his seat, gesturing to the other overstuffed chairs and divans that fill the room. “Forgive me. I sometimes forget that it was Ardis’s machinations that took my beloved away from me, and not the Pathfinder Society itself. I shall try to help you however I can.”
He listens to your initial questions and brings his hand to his brow, "Alas, I do not know where he is, but please, do not mistake my lack of knowledge for unwillingness to help. Please, ask your questions. I would do anything to help restore my dear Vonran, especially if it can keep him from getting himself into more trouble."
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Luurg heads over to the largest, most cushiest seat he can find and sets himself down with a muffled thud. He leans his backpack and spear up against the wall and stretches his arms out and wiggles his butt a bit, seeming to enjoy the seat. Its like dis ting is made of swamp moss! But dryer, and higher off da ground. I could sit here for days n eat grapes!
His eyes suddenly light up as he drags his pack closer and pulls out a clump of grapes from down inside, popping them into his hungry maw two at a time. After a minute he grabs out another and offers them around "Tasty grapes? Real gud, you'll see!"
After hearing him speak he scratches his chin and speaks up "Who's dis Vonran? Same guy as Vilk? Dunno if I heard dat name yet. But if you don't know where he be, and we don't know neither... how we gonna find 'im?" He looks around to the group for some help.
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"Alright, so you don't know where he is." Sheela cups her head in her chin, deep in thought. "Well, what are his habits? Where did he frequent? Maybe he is somewhere familiar."
"Failing that, are there any hunters about? Anyone whom may be trying to track the Wolf of Ardin? We may have to follow them or ask them for more information."
"As for his habits, I had not seen him for decades-not since he was banished from Ardis-so I do not know how his habits might have changed. Not to mention the fact that his...affliction might have affected how he spends his days as well," Rutowski lowers his eyes for a moment and dabs at his eyes with a kerchief. "Pardon me, this is all just too horrid sometimes. Now, you asked about who he has been killing. It seems like the victims were all connected to Vilk in some way. There have been fourteen murders over the past four months. He began with Wanda Oteski, the granddaughter of one of Vilk’s old adventuring rivals. Afterward he slew an elderly merchant and his son who bore witness at Vilk’s trial. The next month saw the death of an elven information broker; apparently she directed Vilk and his band to that ill-fated tomb. The list goes on, but all of them bear some connection to Vilk.
"Yet there are still a few poor souls left in Ardis I’m sure Vonran bears a grudge toward, though the worst offenders moved on decades ago to Caliphas. Of all his remaining accusers, Judge Cevianna Pradowca is the worst. She bore a grudge against Vonran for refusing to wed her and so turned her courtroom into a weapon against him. She’s the one who handed down his banishment 50 years ago. I wager he’ll hunt her next.”
"Well, if I'm right about Vonran going after Judge Pradowca, she lives in an apartment attached to her courthouse, near the center of the city."
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Luurg finishes with his grapes and does his best to sit up in the overly soft chair, struggling mightily. After a few attempts he just gives up and asks his question from his sunken, awkward position "So is dare any reason mebe you should be worried 'bout Vilk? Mebe his head all screwed up and he has sum old bad toughts of you?"
He tries one last time to sit up a bit, though all he does is make some 'uncomfortable' noises on the soft leather.
"Oh, a bitter ex." Sheela lights up again. "It sounds like she's a prime target. We'll have to get to her apartment and take watch, I assume?"
"Yes," Rutowski says with a thoughtful look, "A broken heart can make people quite cruel. That would be where I would start if I were you."
"So is dare any reason mebe you should be worried 'bout Vilk? Mebe his head all screwed up and he has sum old bad toughts of you?"
Rutowski suddenly sits up and looks at Luurg with a mixture of fear and disbelief, "I- I don't know what you mean! When Vonran left, he- he understood, I think. My entire life is in Ardis—my experience, my clients, all my family’s property. It killed me inside to lose him; I’ve never known a man like Vonran Vilk before or since, but my work and my life were more important then. Surely he doesn't hold that against me.”
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"So is dare any reason mebe you should be worried 'bout Vilk? Mebe his head all screwed up and he has sum old bad toughts of you?"
Rutowski suddenly sits up and looks at Luurg with a mixture of fear and disbelief, "I- I don't know what you mean! When Vonran left, he- he understood, I think. My entire life is in Ardis—my experience, my clients, all my family’s property. It killed me inside to lose him; I’ve never known a man like Vonran Vilk before or since, but my work and my life were more important then. Surely he doesn't hold that against me.”
Luurg shrugs his shoulders, even though he's sunken into the chair so much he's now almost sideways "Dunno mang, just a tought. You should be carefuls just in case. If we can help make him normal sounds mebe like you two need to do some talkin bout some stuffs."
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"She... Used her courtroom as a personal toolkit to get back at him? How very fickle of her. No, how absurd!" Serge shouts in disdain. "She is not worthy of being a judge. At the same time, she does not deserve to be murdered. It would make sense to visit her next. I have a few words I'd like to say to her," he says, his tone implying a scolding may be in the Judge's future.
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"How do we know for sure it is Vilk? Did someone survive to see him killing each of these people?" Bishop rolls his 'bones' in his hand pondering the situation and the lack of information they have attained. "Let us see what we can uncover then. If this judge still lives then protecting her might be the best course of action."
You conclude your business with Rutowski and begin making your way to the courthouse just as the sun sets and the full moon begins to peek from behind the hills. Somewhere in the distance, an eerie howl echoes through the streets.
The black granite edifice of the courthouse looms high above its enclosing wall, though a gate ahead stands ajar. A scream breaks the evening’s silence, and upon the wide, stone steps two figures fall prone. A third, hulking form unleashes a furious howl before bounding to the roof and through an open skylight. The courthouse door stands ajar, and a low growling echoes from somewhere within...
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"Thank you for your time. Grieving over a loved one is important, but we must never forget our duties. The common man lifts us up, we should show how proud we are of that position." Sheela bows to Lord Rutowski and leaves.
She still blows a raspberry when they leave. "My apologies, Marduk. Grandmama always taught me to be thankful for my advantages in life, and to never look down on others because I don't understand their origins. I bet you've lived a longer and more exciting life than they ever will."
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"Urgh. If that stupid servant didn't waste our time!" Sheela pulls out her wand and prepares herself and Marduk.
After casting some magical preparations on themselves, the Pathfinders rush toward the open courthouse doors. As they come to the doors, however, the half-orcs' keen eyesight once again reveals something the others did not see at first--the men are still breathing! It appears that the two guards the Midnight Mauler had attacked are unconscious and dying, but may still have some time before they bleed out. But how much time? Will you pause to make sure these innocents survive, or continue on to your objective to save Judge Pradowca?
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After making your choice at the door, you enter the courthouse and follow the long, dimly lit hallway through the open double doors into the courtroom itself. The dark courtroom looks like a scene out of a nightmare. A young woman, perhaps twenty, lies on the floor with her throat torn out. Across the room, a well-preserved older woman stands atop her bench, supporting a bleeding arm and swinging a ceremonial blade erratically. Four slobbering mongrels, each as much dog as wild wolf, circle her makeshift tower.
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"The hip bone's connected to the...pocketwatch. Wait, that's not right. Okay, that should keep them alive for now. Let's go!"
No way is Sheela going to run past dying men.
Inside the courthouse her heart skips a beat when she sees the carnage. "Oh no! Try to bunch them up, I may be able to blind them."
Marduk and Sheela manage to bind the guards' wounds, keeping them alive for now.
As you enter the courthouse chamber, Aiden, Serge, and Bishop immediately move into action. Aiden's aim is slightly off, as the distance is too great for the net to travel effectively, and Aiden is only able to move closer to hopefully engage the dogs in another moment. Bishop, however, throws a dagger with perfect accuracy, catching one of the hounds in the back of its skull and killing it on the spot.
Despite the noise and aggression of these new people in the room, however, the wolfhounds focus their fury against the Judge, snapping at her ankles as she stands helplessly on her bench.
All three wolves manage to sink their teeth into the judge's flesh, and she falls, slumped over her desk and bleeding heavily!
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"Oh no, we have to save her. Keep them bunched- I'll try to put them to sleep!"
Sheela starts casting Sleep.