This is where the story happens. Any in-character actions should be posted here.
Allen Foxglove
A haughty noble who owns land in Magnimar and Sandpoint, and has been a benefactor for Lyssa in the past.
Iesha Foxglove
The wife of Allen Foxglove, Iesha a delightful woman who loves music and dancing. She and Lyssa are close friends.
Belor Hemlock
The Sheriff of Sandpoint.
Katherine Vinder
A local of Sandpoint, and a friend of Lyssa's. Her father is Karl Vinder, and her sister is Shayliss Vinder.
Shayliss Vinder
A local of Sandpoint, and an acquaintance of Lyssa's. Her father is Karl Vinder, and her sister is Katherine Vinder.
Karl Vinder
A local of Sandpoint, and the owner of the town's general store. He is the father of Katherine and Shayliss Vinder.
Martin Grump
A farmer who runs his farm as part of a community outside of Sandpoint. He is an associate of Lyssa's.
Benjamin Avery
A local of Sandpoint, brother of Elliot Avery, and a worker at the local sawmill.
Elliot Avery
A local of Sandpoint, brother of Ben Avery, and a member of the Sandpoint Watch under Belor Hemlock.
Gabriel Sevilla
A thug-turned-farm hand from Magnimar, Gabriel now works as part of Martin Grump's farming community. He is an associate of Lyssa's.
Satinder Hawkes
An investigator from Magnimar who lately resides in Sandpoint. He works under the direction of Belor Hemlock and is a friend of Buford Flinteyes.
Buford Flinteyes
An aging missionary and warrior, Buford was raised in Sandpoint before travelling the world. He has since returned. He is a friend of Satinder Hawkes.
Asher Ironbriar
The employer of Lyssa's parents and a Justice of Magnimar, Lyssa knows little of his activities or interests.
A chill wind whips down from the mountains east of the Devil's Platter, stripping away any warmth that the mid-morning sun might offer to travelers on the Lost Coast Road. The harvest festival is more than a week past, and Lamashan, the month of cold and beasts, has arrived. The wind from the mountains clashes with the icy air coming off the Varisian Gulf, and caught in between is the coastal town of Sandpoint.
The cold is bad, but you've dealt with worse. The walls of your tent only offer token protection against the wind, and every blast soaks some of the warmth away.
As you pull your blankets tighter about you, you hear something. Metal on stone, followed by the sounds of men grunting, ropes creaking.
Someone is scaling the rise to your home.
You pull your winter blanket close around you as you walk, the makeshift cloak keeping your shoulders warm but leaving your legs relatively bare to the icy wind. You broke camp at dawn, making your way all the way from the Ashen Moors since then, and your body aches with cold. Lamashan was the first of the truly cold months, but you hadn't expected quite this much cold quite this early. You're grateful for the extra pelts you've managed to acquire on your last trip to the Tors, and hopefully you'll be able to trade for some new, and warmer, clothes.
As you enter Sandpoint, you can tell that something is amiss. Despite the cold, there should be children playing or doing chores, but there are none. In fact, you don't see anyone out and about. Something is definitely wrong.
The Sandpoint Garrison is less than a quarter-mile from where you entered town, and if Sheriff Hemlock is there he might be able to tell you why the town is so still. The Vinder House isn't much further, though in a different part of town. What do you do?
After a few seconds, men begin to clamber up and over the edge of the rise. They are lightly armored, and obviously trying to be quiet. You recognize them as men from around town, but it's not until you spot Sheriff Belor Hemlock come over the edge that you realize that these must be the Sandpoint guardsmen.
As soon as each man climbs to his feet, he draws a wooden cudgel from his belt and readies a wooden shield on his arm. Hemlock wears his shield, but he carries no cudgel. Instead, he wears a sword belted at his hip. A full dozen men in all climb atop your little outcropping and surround your tent, clubs and shields at the ready. Sheriff Hemlock stands in front of the main flap. He raises his hand as if to knock, hesitates, then draws his sword and raps the flat of the blade against his shield three times.
"Myth'rawn! This is Belor Hemlock, Sheriff of Sandpoint. Step out of your tent, slowly, and speak with me!"
After waiting in silence for nearly a full minute, Sheriff Hemlock raps on his shield again.
"Myth'rawn!" The sheriff's voice is deep and commanding, cutting through the whistling wind. "I will ask one more time for you to exit the tent and turn yourself over into my custody. If I have to ask again, things will not go well for you."
When his second order goes unanswered, Hemlock's eyes flicker around the area. His gaze passes by your hiding place, then snaps back, focusing directly on you. Belatedly, you realize that your backpack is protruding slightly above the rock behind which you were hiding. Hemlock's eyes narrow. He begins striding towards you, leaving his men standing around your tent, confused.
"Last chance, Ser Elf. Give yourself up now, or suffer the consequences."
Though Lyssia knew something was wrong, and wanted to check on the Vinder's family first, she headed toward the Sheriff's place. She would probably get more information there.
As you move down the streets towards the Garrison, you notice that the town isn't quite as dead as you originally thought. You catch glimpses of movement behind many of the shuttered windows.
When you near Main Street, you can see a large group of people milling about outside the Garrison. As you walk closer, a young girl sees you and tugs at the skirts of a nearby woman, presumably her mother. The woman looks around, sees you, and puts a hand to her mouth. More people begin to notice you, and the rumble of the crowd dulls to a murmur.
As you walk through the crowd it parts around you, people moving away to grant you a clear path. You hear whispers as you pass.
Most of them are indistinct, but you can hear one old woman's voice clearly.
"Poor child. Who'll be the one to tell her?"
You approach the Garrison only to find it completely empty. No guards, no Sheriff, no weapons in the weapon racks.
"There a reason why you brought an army to my home, Hemlock? Need me to bury a really fat person?"
If the weapons are gone, something must have happened. I hope everyone's ok.Thoughts and images run through Lyssia's mind as she perceives the new scene.
Hemlock glowers at you. "Do not mock me, Myth'rawn. There are people dead, and the town's eyes are on you. As are mine. My men followed me because they do not wish you to escape."
He studies you for a moment, taking note of your unarmed state. He glances back at his men. Then he grunts, slides his sword back into its scabbard, and draws a set of manacles from his belt instead.
"Let me put this to you plainly," he says, more quietly than before. "If you come with me now, you will be placed into custody. You will be questioned. And you will be safely behind bars, where I will personally protect you from the frightened and angry folk of Sandpoint. If you try to run . . ."
He shrugs.
"You will be hunted down, and I can do nothing to guarantee your safety. What say you?"
Suit yourself." Myth'rawn lowers his arms, and strides past the sheriff. "Let me get my things."
"What's happened? Where is the Guard?"
The man you asked glances about nervously about, then swallows hard.
"They . . . They've gone to catch the murderer. The mad elf what lives on Skinsaw Isle.
He gestures to the northwest, towards the outcropping of rock where Jervis Stoot's hut used to stand, then ducks his head, looking at his shoes.
"I'm sorry for your loss, miss. Nobody deserves to go like that."
Lyssia turns away, breath caught. Obviously, there was way more going on than she originally feared.
Tentatively, she traced through her thoughts. My loss? Normally, she could fight down her fear and panic, but Akos could feel it this time, betraying her feeling with nervous shifts and twitches.
"Who was the victim?" She asked the man.
The man winces. He obviously hoped that you wouldn't ask him. He glances around at the crowd, looking for help, but none is forthcoming. Finally, he sighs, running a hand over his scalp.
"It . . . It was Miss Vinder. Kat. Her and Ben. We found 'em at the sawmill this morning. I dunno what he did to Ben, but she--"
He swallows again, then leans in close and whispers,
"He did her like the Skinsaw Man."
With that, he turns and practically runs away into the crowd, calling apologies over his shoulder as he goes.
Lyssia turned away from him, hands trembling. Tears formed, but didn't fall. One of her few true friends in this world, butchered and used like...
She turned toward Skinsaw Isle and began to run. Akos took flight behind her, soaring just above Lyssia's head. She didn't know if the elf had done this, but she was going to try to find out.
She needed to catch up to the guard.
Hemlock nods and gestures to one of his men, who pulls the tent flap back. Two more men step into the tent, waiting for you. Hemlock turns back to you.
"To make sure you don't try to bring anything dangerous."
He stoops, grabs the other alchemical items off his bedding, and puts them in his backpack. Standing, he speaks to the closest watchman. "Be a dear, and strike this tent. Bring it with you."
He strides to the Sherriff, and opens the backpack, showing all the alchemical tools and impliments inside. "Here." he hands Hemlock the bag. "I'm not leaving this lying about."
Hemlock checks the pack, then nods and hands it to one of the guardsmen.
The guard you spoke to is a thin man, nearly as tall as you, with pale shoulder-length hair pulled into a tail. He snarls at your back,
"I'll burn your tent with you in it if I get the chance, you--"
"Avery!"
Hemlock cuts the guard off, giving him a stern look.
"You were allowed to accompany this apprehension on the condition that you conduct yourself in a manner befitting the Sandpoint watch. The suspect has turned himself into our custody, and you will hold your tongue until he is proven guilty."
As you start to walk by, Hemlock seizes you, dragging you close and whispering harshly in your ear.
"Do not ever presume to give an order to one of my men. It is my duty to conduct you safely to the Garrison, and I will do my utmost to ensure the fairness of your situation, but I will not tolerate your flippancy."
He lets you go and orders three of his men down the ladder to wait for you.
Skinsaw Isle isn't truly an island. Rather, it's an outcropping of just to the north of the edifice known as the Old Light (a gigantic and obviously ancient structure resembling a lighthouse, though there are no doors or windows), connected to the coast by a narrow strip of land. The Isle itself is small, and is comprised mostly of a tall chunk or rock, thirty feet tall and fifty feet across at its most broad.
As you approach, you can see men climbing down from the outcropping, and you can just make out Sheriff Hemlock at the top, holding the shirtless elf by the arm.
She decided to meet Sheriff Hemlock on his way down. She wasn't sure if this elf was truly the killer, but she would keep an open mind. She needed to talk to him, if the guard would let her get close.
"Is that him?" she called to Hemlock when he was within earshot.
As you reach the ground, you hear a female's voice call out, "Is that him?"
You turn to see a short human woman with long, dark hair approaching. She wears traveling clothes and carries an almost comically large longbow on her back.
Hemlock hesitates, then nods cautiously.
"Lyssia. I see you've already heard the news."
He gestures to you.
"This man is currently our primary suspect, but he is innocent until proven guilty. He will be detained at the Garrison while we conduct our investigation."
The elf turns when you call out, glancing you over. Hemlock gives you a cautious nod.
"Lyssia. I see you've already heard the news."
He gestures to the elf.
"This man is currently our primary suspect, but he is innocent until proven guilty. He will be detained at the Garrison while we conduct our investigation."p
"I'm not innocent until proven guilty, I'm innocent." Avery joins the group on the ground, and Thrawn speaks towards him. "At least that's what I told your sister."
"Not many people know much about you, elf, but I do believe that you should be considered innocent for now."
She turns to Hemlock, "Can you tell me why everyone believes him to be guilty?"
Thrawn stares at Lyssia with a blank expression for two beats, and then smiles at her in a seemingly exagerated fashion. "Oh joy." He holds out his manacled hands to Avery, prompting him to unlock the binds.