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Not particularly thrilled by Chatsworth's suggestion to investigate the sarcophagus, Arthur obliges his friend.
Over several minutes and too many pinched and smashed fingers, Arthur is able to shimmy the heavy stone cover of the sarcophagus back to reveal its contents.
He allows Chatsworth to look inside and stumbles, panting, out of the mausoleum. Looking at corpses in a crypt. HAH. Chat is going to need a fine glass of brandy tonight.
"Find what you're looking for, Chatsworth? Enjoying the smell?"
Chatsworth looks down the casket, and finds it entirely empty. No decaying body, nothing that rises to devour the souls of the living.
Outside it has started raining, a slow but permeating drizzle, and the sun is just about setting on the horizon.
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As he hurries to leave, Chatsworth checks to see if there is a name plaque hanging by the sarcophagus. "We'll have to bring the Sheriff here, we'll close it up then." He says while covering his mouth.
Once outside he looks up and lets the rain wet his face, using a handkerchief to wipe his wet face clean after a long pause.
"This will likely damage any tracks, but let's try to give it a go anyhow." He walks to the area of the wall that looked like where they had left the cemetery. He climbs up it and looks over.
Chetsworth takes a nice long peek over the wall, but true enough, even the light rain has obscured most of the available tracks.
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"I may be a lot of things, but I'm no tracker," not anymore at least. "Just as like to get lost out there than to find goblins with a head start. That goblin we captured, she probably knows where they're headed..."
Arthur wishes he had a smoke just now. Goblins and robbed graves weigh heavy on the mind.
"Having said that, if you go out after them you know I'm with you"
He lifts himself up the wall and peers over, trying to spot the tracks.
They're too hard to make out. There's a bunch of stuff that could be them, but the rain is annoying, it's dark out, and the mixture of rocks and grass makes for a hard ground to track on.
You follow the tracks you think are it into the trees, but lose them entirely not a minute after entering the copse.
You make your way back to the guard headquarters. Hemlock has returned, and one of his aides show you into his office on the second floor.
It's fairly spartan as these things go, but kept clean, especially the well polished brass plaque that announces that this is indeed Sheriff Belor R. Hemlock's Office.
He's quite concerned when he learns of your news. "And you're certain that the casket was emptied?"
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"Sure as sin." Arthur feels a bit slighted by the comment and the sheriff's general attitude towards Chatsworth and himself after all they'd done. He puts that sour thought out of his mind. The man is stressed. Sandpoint does not often deal with such chaos and violence. I forgive him.
"Any idea why that one sarcophagus would have been looted? Who was in there?"
"It used to be, father Tobyn rested there, only one to have a mausoleum in the whole graveyard. He died in the fire, back when the old church burned down. A right tragedy that, but it was years and years ago. I can't imagine what anyone would want with Ezakien's bones."
Still, he seems very unnerved. "I'll have to notify father Zantus."
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Chatsworth paces. "They stole the body of a dead priest.. dead in a town fire?.. We'll need to be filled in on the local history here. All the details, the dirty little secrets included. To start off, who did father Tobyn worship?"
As they start to leave the room Chatsworth will remember something else, "Oh, and we had found their tracks leading out of the graveyard, over a wall, and away into the woods. If you have tracker on hand we might be able to catch whoever this was."
"There's not much to tell. The temple caught fire by accident while he was closing up for the night. That was five years ago. Come along."
He gets up, picks out an oilskin cloak and leads you out onto the drizzling streets, presumably headed for the new cathedral to inform farther Zantus of what you've learned.
"As I said, he died in the fire. He favored Desna, but the temple had icons and niches for several of the locals, and he tended to all of them. He was a community leader, but a bit of a recluse as well. Not much in the way of family or close friends; his daughter had run off to be an adventurer like yourselves beforehand, and hasn't been back here since."
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Arthur follows behind Chatsworth and Sheriff Hemlock. The streets have his attention, goblin footprints in the dirt, muddy brown blood spots and signs of chaos.
When they reach Father Zantus, Arthur gives a reverent bow and bright smile that wrinkles the skin around his eyes. "Better days are ahead, Father."
"My name is Arthur Ashlund, and this lively chap is my dear friend Chatsworth. We slew many goblins this day, but come bearing grave news. The tomb of Father Tobyn has been disturbed, his remains taken. Sheriff Hemlock has led us here in search of answers or direction. We wish to serve the people and return order to Sandpoint."
"Nala or Nuna or something the like. Quite a few young people left town back then - it was hard times, if you can believe that. We've cleaned up since then, though. Most went to Magnimar, looking for a new life, and that's what I imagine she did too. Those "pathfinder" fellows have an outpost down there, yeah? You could ask around when you return, her and her father had angel's blood in their veins, hard to mistake for anybody. She was a Tobyn like her father, with white-gold hair. I remember that."
The cathedral was quite imposing in the evening rain.
A flustered looking acolyte lets you in when you knock, and shows you to a side office where Zantus comes to meet you.
Zantus nods along with your introduction, but perks up when you mention the remains. "This is true?" his voice is low and rumbly, with the horseness of an old man. Hemlock nods in confirmation. "That's horrible. Who would do such a thing?" Like his acolyte, he seems tired.
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Chatsworth watches the two interact, nodding. "That is precisely our question as well. Are there any of the late Father's possessions here? Any information you could give us on his life, contacts, and his daughter would be tremendously helpful."
Chatsworth recognizes the dead-end before them, "Very well, Father Zantus we thought you should know of this crime so that the church many correctly seal his tomb and pray for his stolen remains. There is no needs to keep you though, goodnight." With a bow he leaves. Turning to the Sheriff, "Is there a man in your guard that knows these woods well and can track? We'd best get on the trail before it's no more. Otherwise I fear there simply are no leads on this." Turning to Arthur, "Return and question the goblin captive perhaps? Damn, what hour is it?"
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A heartless beast no doubt, with no respect for the dead. I intend to find whoever stole his body and bring him to justice."
This day has been out of sorts for Arthur, and he finds himself at a loss for words. He nods.
"Might be the goblin knows our language more than he lets on. Perhaps we try a different approach. Some food and ale might loosen his tongue."