Straehan casts a critical eye over the cleric, particularly noting her leather armor and mannish pants. "Hmm... that outfit is going to appeal to a small subset of men with particular tastes. Hopefully Hallec and friends like a dominatrix. You really need a whip to go with the outfit, Jeze."
Ushari gives the gnome a frosty look, while unconsciously running her hands over her chest area. "Do I look like a succubus to you?"
Straehan ignores the glare, "I wouldn't describe you as Succubus-like or Courtesan-esque in any way... which is why I find it curious that you imagine you can use your assets to talk your way into or out of that warehouse. A pretty face does not a seductress make."
You loiter in the area of the warehouse for another half hour. Workers trickle out, some clearly from the dock and others from the offices. Glancing out at the water, you can see the raft of lumber is smaller but still being worked. Polesmen continue to hook the logs and drag them towards the wide ramp leading into the warehouse.
It's not clear whether they will continue until finished or quit for the evening at some point.
Ushari shrugs, not taking offense in any way. "No, I think I will leave the courtesan duties to those more...suited to that roll." She gives the gnome a sidelong glance, "Maybe you know of one..."
Turning her attention to the activity at the docks, she grimaces. "I have a feeling they won't leave until they have finished umloading that barge." She motions to the office. "Let's hurry this up, it is getting dark and I am getting hungry."
The gnomes finds nothing but amusement in her veiled comment. "For this crowd? I'll leave that to the amateurs."
Ushari leads the way to the large barn door entrance that you've seen workers enter and exit through. A couple of departing workers eye your group but make no effort to stop or question you as you enter the building.
Most of the vaulted wooden building is open. 50' to 100' long logs are dragged from the water onto a series of tables and are in the process of being stripped of their bark and cut into various pieces - blocks, slats, fencing, 4x8's, and the like. The entire warehouse floor seems dedicated to the task of converting logs into usable lumber. Against the far wall, a narrow wooden staircase ascends about 30' to a set of partitioned rooms surrounded by walkways and supported with cross-braces that span the width of the warehouse. It almost looks like a business-oriented tree-fort. There are several lit lamps along the walkways and shining through the thin panes of glass from the windows. It appears those are the offices of the Orfallen Lumber Consortium.
A quick scan of the warehouse floor shows there are perhaps two dozen workers still at their jobs hauling and processing wood. On the office level, about half of the rooms are dark and only a half dozen workers are visible. A couple more, two women, emerge from a newly darkened room and head down the stairs. They straighten their dresses and put on hats while chatting amiably. You imagine they are heading home for the evening.
Ushari glances at the others before she sets her jaw and heads towards the pair of women about to leaves the premises. Once they acknowledge her, she asks politely "We are looking for Mister Hallec. We want to ask him some questions about an order he fulfilled for Bartleby's Cross. Is he still here?"
They look you over skeptically as they walk past, "He should be upstairs."
Ushari watches the women turn and go, debating whether to utter something unflattering to them in response. She decides to keep her mouth shut and continues to the main office of the Consortium.
Your group ascends the stairs and proceeds down the walkways in search of Hallec. Your search isn't simplified by the lack of names on the doors. Exiting workers pass you and give your armed and armored group odd looks.
Ushari resorts to quizzing passing workers until you find the right doorway. Shoved in a windowless back corner is the correct office. Thankfully, a lamp is still burning.
You step into a large office that manages to be claustrophobic. Its walls are lined with row after row of wooden cabinets for storing files. Behind the desk is a short and very fat man, with a large head of meticulously coiffed hair. He seems to be trying to shift a large stack of papers from one side of his desk to the other... on an individual basis. He grabs a page, scowls at it, hrumphs, possibly makes a note on it, and then drops it on the other stack. The process then starts again. He doesn't even initially notice you standing in his doorway. He seems focused on moving the stack as quickly as possible.
His glance barely touches on your feet before returning to his stack. "I'm busy. What do you want now?" He clearly mistook your feet as belonging to some employee he recognizes.
Ushari stares at the man for a moment wondering if he was anything more than some low level bureaucrat, not smart enough to shine his shoes (or even tell which one goes on which foot.) Still, he may know something...or so she hoped.
Putting on a smile which did not extend to her eyes by any stretch, she approaches the sitting man and asks formally, "Mr. Hallec, right? My name is Ushari and I wanted to ask you a few questions about a bill of sale for an order for Bartleby's Cross which you approved several years ago." She takes out the bill of sale and lays it in front of him. "Is there anything unusual about this order for Bartleby's Cross? Anything about who placed the order?"
His eyes snap up to see who is standing in his office. With a long-suffering sigh, he picks up the bill and examines it.
"Well, there are several unusual things here..." He waits for you to show interest in his observation before continuing.
"First... that you'd walk into my office with official Consortium correspondence you ought not possess since you aren't employed by the company.
Second... that you'd think for a moment that I'd freely disclose company information to you - someone I've never laid eyes on before.
THIRD... that you'd think you'd receive any other answer than 'Get the hell out of my office!' for posing questions you have no business asking, after work hours, when you haven't even had the courtesy to arrange an appointment. I don't know what village tavern you stumbled from... but that isn't how we transact business here."
He scribbles the date of the shipment and 'Bartleby's Cross' on a notepad before tossing the slip of paper back across the desk. "Now, get out before I summon the Constables."
Through Ushari's stewing temper, she suspects that Hallec is irritated for all the reasons he mentioned. He doesn't seem to be deliberately covering up any knowledge of the bill.
Fighting her rising temper, she keeps her voice level as she replies to Hallec. "Well, then maybe you should ask us how we came to possess this document, since as you say this is official correspondence. While I am not going to disclose who we recovered the document from, rest assured he was not an employee of the Consortium!"
Hallec sits like a smug toad. "Fortunately for you that bit of fluff isn't a business secret otherwise the Constables would already be on their way. But an order for replacements blades - who cares? Now... which part of 'Get Out' do you not understand?" Hallec looks like he is readying to stand.
Ushari reaches over to grab the bill before she gives the irritating oaf an impish smile. "Pleasure doing business with you." She then slips the bill into her pouch before turning to leave the office.
Jayse watches the fat man be a complete @ss to Ushari with a blank face. As they all head out, he whispers to everyone, "Anyone have any spells that can create a really rank smell that will stick around for a while?"
As the others turn to leave, Jofram starts to follow. Suddenly, he crosses the room and grabs the fat little man by his collar, lifting him up until his toes scramble for purchase on the floor. Eyes full of rage, he nearly throttles the man as words drip from his lips like venom.
"You filled that order for a mass-murderer! Yes, let's call the Constables - I'm sure they a lot of questions for anyone involved with that child-killer! Better yet, I should drag you back to Bartleby's Cross, and let the weeping mothers tear you apart where you stand!"
Under his breath he mutters to Ushari and Straehan, "Wasn't really thinking anything this dramatic, but..." Jayse leans on the door-frame, watching what the fat man's response will be.
Hallec's eyes bulge both from fear of the snarling half-elf and shock at the accusation. He gulps out a response like a goldfish, "Mass WHAT?! Are you crazy?! I approve shipping requests! I... HELP!!! "
Belatedly, you realise that all the attention you received coming in armed and armored does you few favors now. You immediately feel/hear several sets of footsteps pounding up the stairs. And a brace of burly longshoremen on the lumber floor, with their wickedly long poling gaffs aimed up along the walkways, race among the lumber tables towards the commotion. A few hop up onto a nearby table putting them in range to snag the would-be assassins from the walkway and cast them down onto the floor. A clatter of women rush out the exit screaming for the constabulary with cries of 'Madmen!', 'Armed Thugs!', and 'Murder!'
Jayse's eyebrows go up even further as the situation escalates. "Woah, woah, woah..." His voice is low and calming, or as calming as he can. "I think everyone needs to calm down here. Jofram, why don't you let the fella go since we're not here to hurt him." Everything about Jayse's body language says 'i don't intend anything aggressive here'.
Ushari grits her teeth as Jofram nearly loses control of himself. This...official is not worth the effort it would take to draw my weapon. As Jayse raises a calming hand here, she watches the approach of the longshoreman with her hands away from her weapons and a cool look in her eyes, not ntimidated in the least by the burly men. She the addresses the loathsome fat man again.
"Now, Mr. Hallec, I have no wish to see the situation deteriorate any more...do YOU? Why don't you just answer our questions and then we can be on our way. But if you want to provoke my friend further..."
" I don't know what village tavern you stumbled from... but that isn't how we transact business here."
Jofram sets the shaking man on the ground, straightening his collar for him. With his gauntleted hand still on the man's shaking shoulder, he speaks eerily calm manner, "In the future, when strangers inquire into your business affairs, you might show some respect. They might be potential buyers, or something less... benevolent. That's how we do business."
Jofram releases the man's collar, but the hunter's eyes never leave the fat man's.
"Now, I take your womanly screams to mean that you know nothing further on the matter of these invoices - is that correct, Mr. Hallec?"
Hallec slides into his chair, pale and sweaty. He shakes his head, "It looks like a regular maintenance invoice. I don't know if it's a strange order for Bartleby's Cross or if there were any changes. I'd have to check their records. I just sign-off when I'm told a shipment is approved and I know it's headed up-river. That's it, I swear."
Straehan follows Jayse's lead. He raises his hands and steps out into the walkway where it is plain to see that he isn't threatening anyone and is unarmed save for a gnome-sized dagger in his belt. He gives his best sheepish look to the assembled longshoremen.
"This was just an ill-tempered misunderstanding. No one is hurt, dead, or going to be dead. Let's try to keep it that way."
Ushari nods to Hallec, "That makes sense. Is there a chance you could do us a favor and check those records for us?" She glances about the office and adds, "If this will take some time, we can always come back later."
Despite the monk's and the gnome's soothing words, there is a rumble of concern running through the crowd - particularly since no one can see Hallec's condition. Hooks that were pointing at Jayse and Straehan now hover towards Ushari, ready to pluck her unceremoniously from the doorway.
A large, older, longshoreman - probably a foreman judging by the way the others subtly defer to him - growls from his place on the table, "Those are fine words but your woman up there don't appear to share them. She don't seem to be paying us no mind... and that's a strange thing when you're staring down a 3' hook. You gonna tell me that wasn't a threat she just offered?"
He yells up, "You a'right, Hallec? Where's that other fella got to? I can't barely make him out."
The group of men from the stairs round the corner of the walkway. They brandish 2x4's, wooden mallets, and short gaffs while approaching Jayse cautiously. The ex-Assassin Monk assesses them dispassionately. They are a strong-looking group but their movements and the way they handle their weapons suggests there isn't a trained fighter in the lot.
The foreman waves them to a stop. "We're not lookin' for trouble... so here is what's gonna happen. You folks on the walkway are gonna stay on the walkway. And you folks in the office are gonna step outta there right now. After that, we'll be expectin' to see and hear that Hallec there is still healthy. If that works out - fine. If that doesn't happen - a mess of ugly will."
He looks at Jayse, Ushari, and Straehan speculatively. "Now maybe you are as tough as you look. I don't see any of you flinchin' at those boys near you. Maybe you seen far worse than our lot. But you best consider somethin' - you ain't just messin' with some illiterate log-rollers here. You are goin' against our bosses... and they got resources and a long memory. Cross them and you best be on the first ship off-island."
He lets his words sink in for a moment. If it's a bluff, it is a good one, because he seems sincere. "Now, you two, step out of that office."
Ushari turns to look at the foreman an icy look in her eyes, then turns to look at Hallec. For a moment she is about to say something else to the fat man, but she instead steps out of the office and onto the walkway without saying a word.
The foreman watches the doorway. "That's one."
Jayse's mind shifts, and the situation becomes a combat… a job. Every element in play gets analyzed, categorized, and filed; he begins to seek out every weakness, crack, and division.
Universal generalization: women don't listen to men. Use: Common ground.
Jayse chuckles (hopefully disarmingly), "I'm amazed you got her to listen to you, mate. More than we can ever do." He continues to keep his hands in the open, shaking his head at Ushari as he thinks.
1) Hallec and the guards/labor leader: relationship? Self-important bureaucrat and working man. At best - reluctantly cooperative; more probable - workplace enemies. Use: Divide and Conquer.
2) The troubles at Bartleby's Cross: people hate like child-killers. Use: garner sympathy from the working men to turn them further on the bureaucratic document-signer.
Jayse scratches his chin and looks at the leader, "Look. Out of respect for the fact that you're just doing what's best for your co-workers," his eyes take in the men around the leader, obviously leaving out Hallec, "let me just put all the cards out on the table so we can settle this thing peacefully. We picked up a job from a merchant here in town. It took us up the river a ways, and what we found there was some bad business. In an effort to follow a lead and sidestep bureaucracy, we came to speak to Hallec directly. His signature was on some papers that released your company's equipment into the hands of a child-killer. I hope you can understand our desire to go straight to the source instead of dancing around layers and layers of paperwork and corporate delays." He casts an eye around at all the men 'guarding' them, "If any of you men have family in Bartleby's Cross, I'd say you might want to check in with them. They've had some hard times and could use some support."
Jayse takes a breath and looks over at Hellic, letting a bit of a confiding tone enter his voice as he leans closer to the leader with a half-resigned smile, "Now, I'm going to make a guess here that you can understand when I call Hallec a puffed-up, jelly-bellied, rubber-spined, desk-sitting pen jockey. When we came asking our questions, he was more than a little rude and threatened to call the Watch. My friend in there got a little emotional -- again I hope you can understand given the circumstances of our story -- and tried to get Hallec to talk." Jayse looks at Hallec, Hallec's pants, and the floor at the man's feet. "I believe that's when he wet himself and cried out for your help."
Jayse once again looks at the weapons leveled at him, "We'd still love to get some more answers from Hallec, but we sure didn't come here for any kind of fight. You guys are the only ones with weapons out, and I'd love it if we could have a more friendly conversation. A few of you are even welcome to listen in on the conversation if you're more comfortable with that. We just can't in good conscious leave here without doing our best to get all the information available."
Jofram gestures through the open doorway to Hallec. "It sounds like they want to see that you are in one piece. We'd better not disappoint..." Jofram steps to the doorjamb, gauntleted hand holding open the door in a casual manner. The ranger's eyes, however, never leave Hallec.
Jayse gestures to Jofram, emphasizing the lack of weapons in hand. His expression is one of asking, not superiority.
Seeing Hallec is alive and well, if shaken, the foreman relaxes a little. There is a rumble of discontent at the 'child-killer' revelation and not a few of the workers look to the foreman for his take on the story. His attention stays firmly fixed on Jayse and what the rest of the group is doing.
He only smirks slightly at Jayse's characterization of Hallec, seeing some truth in the assessment. When Jayse finishes speaking, the Foreman looks to Hallec for confirmation. "Is that about the long and short of it?"
Hallec shoots a glance at Jofram before nodding briefly. The foreman's brow furrows before rendering his judgment. He sighs, "Sometimes, Hallec, you are a horse's ass... Feel free to 'note that insubordination' in my file. Someone, make sure the Watch knows there's been no murder here - just a little fracas. You boys..." he addresses the people on the walkways and the lumber floor, "get back to work or head home - whatever is on your schedule. I'll handle this."
In a few moments, folks set about their tasks and the foreman joins you at Hallec's office. A couple folks linger on the lumber floor, watching.
Hallec searches through the files and pulls a thick sheaf of pages related to requests from Bartleby's Cross. This bill of lading is no different than any of those. There is nothing unusual about the request or the timing of it. He pulls the records of the original request and the paperwork it generated. The original request was from Dinwat on behalf of Hetmon Aidep. The number of replacements requested is the same in both the original dispatch and how the order was fulfilled - which suggests it isn't a code unless it was only being passed one way.
The foreman frowns, "Does that tell you anything?"
Ushari stares at the bill with a look of frustration in her eyes.
Another dead end...Well, we had to be sure of this in any event.
She shakes her head in response to the foreman's query. "Not much, I am afraid. We found the original bill of lading in the possessions of the EX-child-killer in question. We were hoping this would lead us to any accomplices he may have had in the Consortium. I believe he wanted to hide the order from the Hetmon in Bartleby's Cross to prevent others in town from learning what he had discovered." She gives him a tired smile. "While that bastard has been dealt with, we wanted to be positive he did not have any connections in the Consortium or elsewhere in Orfallen."
The foreman scratches his chin. "It looks like there ain't anything in that order that's odd. It looks like all the others. Maybe whatever is hid there ain't in the words."
Ushari nods somberly. "Definitely all seems in order, yet there is something odd about this order." She glances off where the remaining loggers are working trying to collect her thoughts.
She mutters softly to herself, "Now, why would Dinwat need all of these replacement saw blades if he wanted to be the only one aware of the location of that ruin? He must have had somebody who used these blades...unless he relied on the gnolls?"
Her eyes widen as she turns back to the foreman. "Is there a record of any employees of the Consortium who worked at Bartleby's Crossing from three years ago?"
Hallec pulls out the rolls and checks through it. "There hasn't been any turnover in Bartleby's Cross for many years. I don't see any of those folks coming to work here."
Ushari nods, "Yeah, I suspected as much. He probably hired gnolls to clear the area around those ruins, or even used his minions for the labor. So we are right back to square one here."
She looks over to her companions, "Unless you have something to add here, I think our business here is done."