[Ooc]I said 38 gold not a copper more cuz I thought that was what she said. 39 gold and 6 silver is what he will drop
Dena seems genuinely surprised as Aenian leaves the money behind. Her look changes from barely-restrained anger to unsure distrust. As you walk away from the Silver Wagon, the strains of music and chatter slowly start up again.
You aren't entirely sure where to find the Sleepless Building, but an intuitive-like feeling pulls you along the main street to the east. On a small gnoll a few hundred feet from the Fish Market, you pass a two-story timber-frame building. A grove of trees blocks the western half of Thrushmoor from view. Unlike most of the rest of the town, the front door is illuminated but an oil lamp. A sign beside the door reads: "The Sleepless Agency" and "Founder - Cesadia Wrentz".
"Well, maybe they'll let us sleep here, although I doubt they have baths ..." Aenian grumbles as he walks up to knock on the door.
Aenian knocks. After a minute, there is no answer at the door. Just as he's about to try again, the door unlatches an opens. A human man with short blond curls leans around the door. Smiling, he greets you.
Yes? How can we help... oh, its you." His demeanor immediately sours as he recognizes you both. "You're back, then," disappointingly. "What do you want?"
Ven smiles at the man. "It appears our reputation proceeds us. We're here to see Accuser Omari."
"You want to see the Royal Accuser?" the man raises an eyebrow, skeptical, but then shrugs. "Come inside. Cesadia will probably want to talk to you." He waves you inside and then shuts and locks the door behind you.
He guides you to a comfortable lobby to the left of the foyer. The room is clean and neatly arranged with a wide sofa and opposing seats. A small buffet to the side holds a decanter of water and drinking glasses.
"Thank you, Allard. I'll take it from here," says a smartly-dressed woman as she enters. The man bows his head and then leaves, closing the door quietly.
The woman is tall and fit, approaching middle age. She has reddish-brown hair that she keeps trimmed short. Her eyes are big and inquisitive, and her pale skin is scattered with freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.
"Ven, Aenian," she greets you curtly. Distrust is clear on her face. "Odd hour to come by. Odd of you to come here at all. You said you were looking for Royal Accuser Omari, but I'm afraid she's not here. She's... gone." A flash of concern across her eyes, and a twist of frown on her lips. "Missing actually, for nearly a week now. Along with the others."
"The others? Who else ... wait, you know us, too? How then did Winter not know us? Is she here, yet?"
Aenian struggles with the confusing jumble of his memory holes and the recent events, the strange sensation of knowing that people know him and that he's been here before but without any real recollection or deja vu.
"Of course I know you," Cesadia gives Aenian a strange look. "Winter? She's the changeling Omari sent over to Briarstone. No, she isn't here." She thinks for a moment, finger to her lips, then shakes her head. "So, you two were at the asylum? I thought you had gone with Count Lowls when he left on his expedition." She then looks at both of you critically. "And if you were at the asylum these last few weeks, you don't know about the missing persons and other strangeness."
"What did Lowls have you doing over at Briarstone anyway?"
Ven shakes his head at Cesadia."What did he have us doing? He had us committed, that's what he did. We'd probably would have been lobotomized by now if it hadn't been for the cataclysm. Believe me, we plan to have some words with Lowls when we find him. What's this expedition you speak of? Who's missing? Tell us about the strangeness. It can't be any more strange than what we saw at Briarstone."
"Committed?" Cesadia arches an eyebrow, then flashes a mirthless smile. "Can't say I'm really surprised. Anyone who would hire lackeys like you to do their dirty work are not likely the most loyal souls. But committing you to an asylum seems a bit of an odd way to terminate employment. The doctors would quickly ascertain that you don't belong there. Sociopaths, or sadists... not insane, just thugs."
She takes a seat on the corner of the sofa, regarding you both a moment before continuing. "The strange: Someone is leaving strange murals on walls around the town. A black skyline of a strange city. Under a yellow sky. They appear seemingly at random. No one has claimed credit, and none have seen the painter in action. Then people started disappearing."
"The missing: Count Lowls left on his expedition, if that counts. A couple days after that, Magistrate Padgett suddenly left on some business and has not been seen since. The mercenaries he had on payroll quit and left after going unpaid for weeks, leaving the town undefended except for Constable Cesyll and a few militia. Word of missing persons around town starting cropping up. At least a dozen. Then, Royal Accuser Omari arrived with her entourage. A week ago, they went to Fort Hailcourse to enlist the support of the constable. They never came back. And now the Pharasmin priestess Trillis Mavaine. Just today, that artist she hired to decorate New Chapel came in saying she has not been seen for two days."
"The townsfolk come to me looking for help. For any kind of leadership. As if I am any kind of authority." She bites her fingernail, shaking her head in thought. "I do what I can. But, at the end of the day, this is just an investigation agency."
Cesadia returns her focus to you. "Why are you looking for Omari? If you've the time, I'd like to hear about Briarstone."
"We need to find Lowls to discuss with him the events that led to our very unwelcome stay at Briarstone. We came here looking for Winter, primarily. She asked us to meet her here. To be fair, she said tomorrow, but we have been unable to secure lodging in the town. Where did Lowls go on his expedition? Perhaps we should check on his estate and see if he left any ... instructions."
The half-elf yawns and stretched painfully. "But first, any idea where we can get a bite to eat, a bath and a bed ... that isn't the Silver Wagon?"
Ven sighs, "Thugs, eh? We seem to have made that impression on several people. I must confess, I don't really consider myself the thuggish type."
Ven rubs his chin upon hearing about all of the missing people. "Wow, too bad there isn't an agency around here to investigate all of these disappearances." He looks pointedly at Cesadia. "I can't image why the townsfolk would look to you for help."
He then shrugs, "Yeah, let's take a look at Lowl's manor."
Cesadia shakes her head, narrowing her eyes slightly. "You and your entourage were able to get away with much because Count Lowls was your patron. Now that he's gone, I doubt you will find many friendly faces in Thrushmoor. Earning any trust will be an uphill climb."
She sighs and swallows, looking like she bit into a bitter lemon. "I have been trying to help, but my agents are scattered to the winds and I don't have the resources to check out all these odd clues. The missing persons I did investigate turned up dry -- persons gone without a trace. Completely disappeared."
"And I don't know where Lowls went. We did not even know he left until some folks went to Iris Hill to beseech his aid with the recent troubles. His aide, Melisenn, sent them away. She refused to help, telling them to wait for her master's return. That was weeks ago."
Cesadia continues to regard you both, intently weighing your responses. "You both seem... different. I can't place it. Something happened to you in Briarstone, even if you won't tell me about it." After a pause, she adds, "I'll give you a place to sleep. Here in the Sleepless Building. If you agree to help me solve these mysteries."
"Look, Cesadia, you are right. Something happened to us at Briarstone and we don't remember much of the past few years. We ended the evil in that place, but our memory hasn't returned. Needless to say, when everyone we encounter has a negative response to seeing us, we aren't inclined to trust anyone right away. We'll look into some of these mysteries, since they may help us solve our own."
He looks meaningfully at Ven, "We need a place to hunker down for a bit."
Ven nods at Cesadia, "Yes, since we're going to be helping you with the investigation, it will be helpful for us to stay here. As my friend said, we're not the men you remember. Hopefully we can prove ourselves to you. Thank you for the offer."
Ven then turns to Aenian "I suggest we begin the investigation with our patron, Count Lowls. Shall we head over to Iris Hill?"
Cesadia nods, "I hope that is true. Given your past deeds -- remembered or not -- the townsfolk may never thank you for your aid, but I will greatly appreciate it."
She stands and gestures for you to follow, giving a tour of the Sleepless Building. "There is the kitchen and pantry. You are welcome to use what you need." She takes you upstairs to the the second story, eventually guiding you to a small room with two bunk beds. "Here is your room. Usually boarding for my agents as they pass through, but it is free at the moment. Fresh linens are in the closet, and there is a tub in the basement, if you decide to wash up."
"A couple of my agents, Allard and Joslyn, are staying in the neighboring room. Please refrain from getting into a scrap, like last time. If you can recall that incident."
"Come see me in the morning, whenever you're ready." She nods again and leave you, heading back down stairs.
Aenian immediately moves to grab some linens and heads downstairs after dropping his gear off in the room, although he will take a blade down with him.
After getting cleaned, he will raid the pantry before crashing for the night.
The other Sleepless Agents stay out of your way as you wash up, eat and get comfortable in your bunks. Strange for the last several days (as far back as you can remember), your sleep is restful and without vivid or disturbing dreams.
"I do want to find a store to offload this excess gear and see what's for sale to reequip before we go encounter any more potentially hostile locals."
You are greeted by the scent of coffee as you descend the stairs. Cesadia is waiting in the lobby, seated by the window, cup in hand. She waves you to a platter on the side table which holds a steaming carafe and stack of biscuits. "I hope you slept well. Coffee? It's brought all the way up from Rahadoum. We get a shipment from up the river every other month."
Once you are situated, she begins. "As I said last night, there are many disturbing matters plaguing Thrushmoor these recent months." Cesadia begins to list the problems.
"Royal Accuser Omari and her entourage were last seen going to Fort Hailcourse to meet with the constable, Barawyn Cesyll. She and her handful of militia have been holed up in the fort since our mercenary guardsmen left."
"The head of our Church of Pharasma, Trillis Mavaine, has gone missing. She was last seen by Lelwyn Hasok three or four days ago. He is working at the New Chapel."
"The disturbing murals of the strange city have been appearing in random spots around the town. No one has claimed credit. Nor has anyone seen the culprit."
"Elgrior Nesmeth is stirring up fear by spouting his conspiracy theories around town. He claims, among other things, that the witch Ariadnah has returned and a second Thrushmoor Vanishing is upon us. He claims to have proof." She does not sound convinced.
"Any of these could be unrelated or bad fortune, but if I've learned anything during my years of investigations, its that there's no such thing as coincidence. What questions do you have?"
Ven gratefully accepts the coffee. "This is much better than the swill they gave us at the asylum."
He then grabs something to take notes with. "Why was Omari meeting with Barawyn Cesyll? What else can you tell us about Trillis Mavaine? Did she have any enemies in town? Is the mural always the same skyline? Do you recognize the city? Where is the nearest mural? We need to take a look. Who is the witch Ariadnah? I've not heard of her. Where can we find Elgrior Nesmeth?"
Cesadia nods to each of Ven's questions, approving of his inquisitive train of thought. "Let's see..."
"When she arrived, Accuser Omari quickly observed the lack of civil leadership in Thrushmoor. Count Lowls was never closely involved in town affairs, but at least his presence provided the pretense of leadership. Magistrate Padgett nominally ran things in the Count's name, but then he departed on supposed business and did not return. The mercenary guardsmen in his employ deserted a couple weeks later, after not being paid. That left only the constable, Barawyn Cesyll. Instead of taking charge, she shuttered Fort Hailcourse and refused to come out, even as things in town grew worse. At any rate, Omari decided to meet Cesyll and press the constable into action. That was the last we saw of her."
"Trillis was a friend," she starts, glancing down for a moment as she controls her emotions. "She had no enemies that I know of. Most of her work over the last several months was the construction of the New Chapel and moving from the old chapel on the edge of town. She recently hired the painter, Lelwyn Hasok, from Caliphas, to complete the mural inside the New Chapel."
She shakes her head at the mention of the strange graphitti. "Those defy explanation. They have been described as very similar. I only saw one in person. I have been to many cities, and seen depictions of the greatest across Avistan. These looked like none I have ever seen." She then adds, "The latest was in an alley behind the Booklayer. It may not be there still. The paintings fade or are removed, nearly as randomly as they appear."
"Ariadnah, more commonly known as The Briarstone Witch. In the tales, she is the villain responsible for the Thrushmoor Vanishing." You recall your recent research into the history of Briarstone.
"And lastly, Elgrior is hard to miss. Just walk down the main street. You'll probably be accosted by him, shouting his portents of doom and inciting panic." She sighs with annoyance. "Both Dena from the Silver Wagon and Emmon from The Stain have asked to do something about him. His rants are scaring people and hurting their businesses."
Ven nods and rubs his chin, "Yes, I think we may have run into Elrior, now that you mention it. I don't think he's going to be too helpful."
He looks out the window as he ponders what to do now. "It seems we need to reassert the civil leadership to maintain law and order. Once the town is stabilized, perhaps we can look into Count Lowl's disappearance, and the linkage to our own identities. But first, we need the constable to do her job. Let's see if we can figure out why Barawyn Cesyll has decided to barricade herself in. What do you say, Aenian?"
"Yes, given how many people are angry with us, it would behoove us to get on the right side of the law. Where is Winter, BTW?"
Off to a store to drop loot and resuply and then to the Fort? Or should we check on Winter first?
Winter first, then loot and Fort.
You finish your coffee and head outside. The damp night has resulted in a fog-shrouded morning and a steady, cool drizzle falls. Cesadia hands you both an umbrella and points out the New Chapel to you, visible a ways down the main street.
As you cross a bridge and approach the chapel, you find a crowd gathered in the yard. They are facing a small building to the north. They are clearly agitated, and one moves up to bang on the door. "Come on out, vandal! We know its been you painting those cursed images about town. Come out and fess up!"
The door opens and an irritated-looking half-elf emerges. He has a beard, long hair tied up in a pony tail, and wears a paint-stained smock. He glances around the gathered crowd with clear disdain, but he is also clearly startled. "I did not paint those dreadful things!" he protests, but is quickly shouted down by the mob.
Aenian sighs, "This woman just drags trouble to herself ... let's use our reputation a bit, whaddya say?"
Aenian shoves a man nearby and then barks at him pushing by, "Out of the way, man ... important people trying to get through!!"
Ven will follow Aenian's lead. "You heard the man, back off! Don't you know who we are?"
You shove your way through the group and up to the half-elf. He looks at you skeptically, but does not seem upset that the crowd takes a few steps back.
The man who banged on the door shakes rain water off of his wide-brimmed hat, squinting at you. "Oi! What're you doing? We're trying to get the graffiti stopped, once and for all."
"Well then, that seems like a brilliant idea! Are you asking this man because you have irrefutable proof that he did it or just because he is equipped to paint? If that's the basis for law here, I'll make sure to note that the next time some woman is assaulted, since I think you're equipped to do that, ueah?" Aenian addresses the man with a wry stare.
The man furrows his brow, giving Aenian a sour look. "Go ahead, use your fancy words. But they don't change the fact that he's the only artist here in town. And that vandalism didn’t start showing up on our walls until he arrived." He gets a muttering of agreement from the surrounding townsfolk. The support emboldens him.
"And now the priestess is gone!" he adds, raising his voice for all to hear. "Some folks keep talking about how the Briarstone Witch is coming back for Thrushmoor, but I know that he’s behind the troubles." He punctuates his accusation with a finger pointed at the half-elf.
The accused guffaws flamboyantly. "I've said it before, and I'll keep saying it until it sinks into your thick, provincial skulls... I did not paint those hideous scribblings!" the bearded artist retorts. "To even think the name Llelwn Hasok would be associated with some amateur vista sketches! And I was the one who reported Priestess Mavaine missing. She invited me to this stinking soggy backwater town. I certainly would never come here voluntarily!" His disdain is clear and is not endearing him to the crowd.
Ven tries to calm the mob, "My friends, we have been asked to investigate this heinous crime. While we investigate all of the evidence, I would ask that you not jump to conclusions. I doubt that an artist of Llewn Hasok's renown would be involved with such vandalism, but I assure you we will confirm that he is not involved. Whoever has committed this crime will be caught and will be duly punished. So, please, disperse while we help the authorities restore order."
Aenian does his best to assist by discretely moving over to the artist and smacking him in the balls,
"Ow, hey!" Lelwyn cries out, crouching in pain. The heeds Ven's words and reluctantly breaks up, slowly melding back into the drizzle and fog. The outspoken man grumbles something to himself as his support disperses, but he finally sighs and leaves with one last sour look at you and Lelwyn.
The half-elf recovers from his pain, trying to stand up. "Why on earth did you assault me? Have I offended you somehow?"
"Nope, but if you kept talking, that mob was going to lynch you. Normally unwise to insult a mass of people calling for your head. Recommend you ... read the situation, next time." Aenian spins his hand around in a circle demostratively. "[/b]
Lelwyn eyes Aenain for a moment, trying to tell if he's being sincere. "Very well, then. I thank you for your intervention with those mindless yokels. What can I do to repay your timely succor?"
"Tell us why you're here for the priestess and how you came about noticing her disappearance?"
Ven points his thumb at the receding crowd. "They had a point - the vandalism didn't start until you got here. Care to explain that? Tell us what you know about the vandalism. Do you recognize the city scene in the picture? Does the style suggest who the artist may be?"
Lelwyn looks up wearily as the drizzle intensifies. "Come inside out of this miserable weather?" Inside, you find his studio is a small, two-room building cluttered with canvases, supplies and partially completed paintings. It smells strongly of oils.
"Okay, how did this all begin? I am from Caliphas, and while I am no Andosalu, but I have a small following there. Priestess Trillis Mavaine commissioned me to decorate her quaint little 'New Chapel' with a mural of Pharasma. I arrived two weeks ago and have been working on it since. Trillis visited every day to check on progress, but I did not see her much otherwise. Then, a few days ago, she stopped coming by. At first I didn't think much of it, but after the third day I started asking around... no one had seen her either, and when I checked at her home, the place was dark and empty."
"So, I tried to bring up her disappearance to the town authorities, but apparently the're gone or indisposed or whatever. And I was told other people have gone missing too!" He shakes his head. "Now these ingrates think I'm vomiting graffiti around town, as if I don't have a professional reputation to uphold."
To Ven's specific questions, he adds, "I saw one of these pictures. It was no place I recognized. There was something odd about it however... I didn't recognize any technique used. As in, there were no brush strokes or drawing marks. I can't explain it."
Ven nods curtly. "Thanks for the help. Don't leave town."
He turns to Aenian. "Let's see if we can find Winter at the New Chapel."
Lelwyn looks directly at Ven, arching an eyebrow, but then his eyes open wide. Oh!" he gasps. "How did I miss it before? You were standing right in front of me!" He turns and digs through a stack of canvases, taking out a set of three -- an unfinished triptych.
In the background, three different cities flow seamlessly into one another under a yellowish sky. In the foreground are four people in full figure. Although still in their sketch phase, the figures depicted are uncanny renditions of you both, as well as your fallen companions Hugh and Fennis. Only the faces are indistinct.
Lelwyn glances back and forth between you and the paintings, shaking his head in wonder.
"Where did you get this?" Aenian queries looking at the triptych intently.
Ven snatches the triptych from the man's hand. "Who make this? Do you have more?"