"I had some...substance...like an oil...on my hands. Clear. I don't know where it came from." Thrawn looks expectantly at Lyssia, then Buford, and finally Satinder.
As far as you can tell, there is absolutely nothing on Myth'rawn's hands.
Satinder leans over, studies Thrawn's hands, sniffs them, wipes a finger over one of his palms before rubbing his thumb and finger together.
He shrugs.
"There's nothing there as far as I can tell. But there's a washbasin around somewhere, if you'd like to wash your hands. I frequently feel as though I need to, even when I know they're perfectly clean."
Buford raps a knuckle on the tabletop sharply.
"Fascinating though this oil dilemma may be, we have a more pressing issue. When Karl arrives, and I expect he'll arrive soon, he'll whip that crowd into a frenzy that I won't be able to quell."
He gives Myth'rawn a stern look.
"You need to be out of here by then. The Sheriff believes he can protect you from the townsfolk, but a mob that is frightened and angry enough to be worthy of the name won't back down from a dozen armed men, not even if each of them were as capable as Hemlock himself.
Can you think of anywhere you can go for refuge?"
You aren't the one on the run, but Martin Grump's farming community springs to mind. They aren't especially kind to strangers, but if you went along to vouch for him, Grump might be willing to lend some aid.
You don't have any friends nearby, aside from Buford. Ironbriar is likely out of the question, even if you wanted to ask him for help, seeing as he's a judge in addition to his other activities. "Refuge" will likely have to mean "living in the wild" in this region.
"I can think of dozens of places I can go. I can only think of a few that I can't go." He purses his lips, thinking. "Off-hand, I'd say - the Devil's platter, farther on the north road, or perhaps a farm somewhere. But if we want to stay in town, so I can lead this investigation, I'd say...the theater, the glassworks, Vender's house or even Avery's."
Buford snorts.
"You will certainly not be staying in Sandpoint. You need to get out, the sooner the better. Somewhere you can be reached if new developments arrive, but out of the way enough to be hard to find. Martin Grump's farming community would be ideal as a starting point, but he isn't likely to lend aid to strangers, and you wouldn't be able to stay long. As soon as someone thinks to send word to Grump to keep an eye out for a possible murderer on the run, you'll have the farmers down your neck as well.
Regardless, the Devil's Platter might do nicely. There are plenty of hiding places out that way. We'll need to come up with some kind of signal for when we have new information for you, or possibly pre-planned meeting points."
Satinder leans forward, addressing both Myth'rawn and Lyssia.
"Speaking of the investigation, I'm curious: do you have any thoughts as to who else might be involved in this? I have a few theories of my own, of course, but I'm interested to hear yours."
Thrawn rubs the back of his neck. "There groups that might be involved...but this is Sandpoint...it's not like they'd have motivation to come here."
"let's go to Grump's place for now... I can go with you and maybe Help out with his sour disposition.
As for any more theories.... I don't know. As far as I know the elf has kept to himself, and Kat was... I can't think of any enemies that she would have."
Lyssia turns to Thrawn,
"I doubt that this was the cause, but can you think of anyone who would want to get you into trouble for this? It seems the whole village just assumed you were behind it.
Satinder, I have nothing beyond that. What are your theories?"
Myth'rawn's eyes flicker about the room as he speaks, and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. It is fairly obvious that there is more on his mind than he is letting on.
Buford and Satinder both give Thrawn long looks. Satinder opens his mouth to speak but Buford lays a hand on his arm.
"No, I'll speak to him about it. Thrawn, would you step outside with me for a moment?"
He stands without waiting for an answer and strides from the room.
"Outside? Thrawn laughs dryly for a half beat, then, realizing that Buford is serious, blurts "Alright! It's possible that the killer may have come to...get at me." He looks around the room, from one face to another. "If you must know, I'm probably the most dangerous person in Sandpoint. It was inevitable that someone try to remove me from the face of Varisia. Knowledge is power, and I am supremely knowledgable."
Lyssia gives the elf a long, even look.
"Well. I guess that doesn't come as much of a surprise. Who do you think is after you? Or, a better question: what knowledge turns you into such a threat?"
It's possible that Ironbriar might be trying to put pressure on you to get you to come back to his organization. You left because you didn't agree with their methods, and it's possible that he would stoop to killing innocent people to get what he wants. In fact, you aren't even sure that Ironbriar is still the head of the organization, and this might be the work of his successor.
Also, over the course of a long career of killing people, you are certain to have made a few enemies who survived.
"I am a threat to certain individuals or organizations because of information I have on them. Perhaps there was a change in leadership, where the young, naive minds felt my person a danger to their survival."
Thrawn moves to the bodies, and appears to be examining them, although everytime he moves in to look at something, or touch something, he stops milimeters from the corpse, and then stands abruptly, clears his throat, and adjusts to what must be a more comfortable viewing position, only to repeat the process again.
"I'm not entirely satisfied with that answer... Well, I'm not satisfied with that answer at all."
Lyssia laughs and turns away.
"But I suppose that's all I'm getting from you, eh? Fine. For now. I'm sure that eventually I'll either figure it out, someone will try to cut my face off, or you'll tell us more detail so that we can better protect you."
She turns to Buford.
"When do you think we can leave?"
Buford continues to eye Myth'rawn, but his words are for Lyssia
"That's a very generous offer, child. You do realize that, as far as your uncle and the other townsfolk will think, you are aiding a murderer? You won't be able to come back to Sandpoint until his name is cleared."
While it's obvious that you and Buford have shared war stories, you also obviously haven't told him everything. With the knowledge that he is the only person in Sandpoint to show you anything like friendship, consider how you feel about keeping some of those secrets from him, especially since they may have just cost two innocent people their lives.
"Would you mind if we examined the bodies now that we're all watered?"
"Thanks for your concern, but I'm already kind of an outcast, I've already lent my aid to Thrawn, rather dramatically according to the village outside, and my concern is catching the true murderer. For Kat and his potential future victims.
Myth'rawn, Satinder has already examined the bodies. What more do you hope to find?"
"Something he may have missed, obviously." Thrawn shrugs appologetically at Satinder. "I'm not saying you did miss something, only that I may see something you don't know to look for."
Satinder shakes his head, reaching for a hardtack biscuit.
"I'm afraid this isn't the time. Master Flinteyes is correct; we likely have only a few minutes before Master Vinder arrives to break down the door."
He takes a bite, chews deliberately, swallows.
Buford nods his agreement.
"If you know where you're going, it's best that we get you on your way. I'll distract the crowd while you two slip out the back. Gather what provisions you can, quickly. I'll be waiting in the hall."
"I'll need my satchel. The Sherriff had it removed from me." Thrawn picks up a bunch of grapes and pops one in his mouth. Chewing, he addresses Buford. "You will be joi -" gagging, he looks at the grapes. He tosses them down, and looks around the room desperately. After a moment, he closes his eyes, and swallows dramatically.
"Gozreh's damned seeds..." he shudders. "You're coming with us?" he finishes lamely.
Lyssia grabs a couple biscuits and puts them in her pack, giving a piece of her days ration to Akos before closing the top and slinging it back over her shoulder.
"Karl is bound to be way beyond reason. Whoever is coming, I suggest they hurry up so we can get out of here. "
Thrawn blinks as if noticing Akos for the first time as it eats it's food. "That things alive?!"
"One of my best friends," Lyssia says, and strokes the falcon's feathers.
He nips at her hand affectionately before delivering a steady, unblinking stare to Thrawn.
Lyssia turns to Buford. "Anyway, are you not coming with us, then?"
Buford shakes his head.
"Not right now. I'll follow later, but if I don't reach Grump's community three days after you do, strike out without me and leave me a message saying where you're headed."
Thrawn grabs a week worth of provisions and places them in his pack.
"Alright. Can you try to at least send a messenger to let us know what's happening? Something..."
Buford shrugs.
"I doubt it will come to that. If someone gets suspicious, and I know that I'm being watched, sending a messenger to you will draw a mob down on your head as surely as if I were to come myself. If I don't come, it means that someone is stopping me from coming. That should be all the message you need."
He glances at Myth'rawn, who is still eyeing the doorway to the makeshift examining room, and sighs.
"Hurry up and take a look then, if it means that much to you. I'll give you one minute, and if I hear the mob coming before then I'll drag you out by your pointed ears."
Thrawn strides from the room with purpose.
Lyssia follows him into the room with the bodies, standing at the opposite wall.
Lyssia glances at Thrawn.
"What kind of experience do you have in general survival? I noticed you packed enough provisions to get there, so you're not a total loss just yet. Do you need any help here before we leave?"
"I need no help. I've spent years in the wilds of Irrisen," Thrawn moves from body to body, examining them. ...warring up at the worldwound, traveling through Belkzan, Varisia, and Aroden knows where else."
Those are impressive accomplishments. Irrisen is a land of perpetual winter, ruled by witch-queens and generally considered to be inhospitable to strangers. The Worldwound is legendary, a place where the barrier between worlds is thin, constantly under attack by demonic legions. If he is telling the truth, he is capable indeed.
You find nothing on Ben's mangled corpse that you weren't already shown by Satinder. On Katerine's body, however, you find something that the examiner didn't mention.
On the base of the young woman's right heel is what appears to be a random series of scratches, not even deep enough to be called cuts. You see it for what it is: a snowflake. A very particular snowflake. The random scratches are, in fact, deliberate and precise.
This is the crest of Galenna Icethorn, one of the White Witches of Irrisen.
Thrawn stands suddenly. "We need to leave." He strides towards the exit, shouldering his pack. "Now!"
He was looking at Kat's right foot when his mood changed. You look it over, but all you can tell is that her heel has a few scratches on it.
"I have no arguments."
Lyssia heads toward the back door, nodding farewell to Buford.
Buford returns the nod.
"I'll get their attention. Hurry, both of you. Quickly, and quietly, and I'll catch up with you soon."
Lyssia grabs Thrawn's shoulder, slowing him.
"Maybe it'd be best if I try to scout ahead a bit. That way we can avoid any villagers. Once we're out, you can tell me what it is you saw when you were looking at Kat."
Perception:
[spoiler=Lyssia]