South of Osirian, in the small frontier town of Gauthos, a murder has rocked the tiny population. Local baron and financial wizard James Jaspar died in a house fire, and the finger is being pointed squarely at the local smithy, Paul Maron.
Now, Maron is locked up in the jailhouse, under lock and key by Sheriff Sark and his two deputies. At the end of the small westernly town's main center road stands an unprepped gallows, with a couple folks working on getting it ready.
You four are new arrivals to town, not unwelcome, but certainly a sight among the locals. You know the basics of the story, you know the official story, suspect, clues and motive. In 48 hours, Paul Maron swings from those gallows. The question now is simple: what do you plan to do?
Locations (Time):
-The Cemetary (30 minutes)
-Pastor Grayson's Parish (1 hour)
-School House (30 minutes)
-Charred Remains of the Jaspar Home (2 hours)
-Boarding House (1 hour)
-Bergeson's General Store (1 hour)
-Doctor Hershell's Clinic (1.5 hours)
-Gauthos Hotel & Saloon (2.5 hours)
-Markin's Banking Services (1 hour)
-Stage Couch Station (30 minutes)
-Jaspar Lumber (1 hour)
-Gabb & Garman Undertaking (1 hour)
-Stables & Corral (1 hour)
-Sheriff Sark's Jailhouse (2 hours)
-Maron's Blacksmithing (1.5 hours)
-Worworth's Curio Case (1 hour)
Moll strolls through town, getting a feel for the place and generally acting friendly. If her smile is sometimes a bit impish and her blouse opened a bit further than strictly decent, this is surely balanced by her warm and friendly attitude.
Surely.
The young woman comes to a stop near the gallows and leans on her staff. She clucks her tongue while she shakes her head.
"'Orrible shame," she says to no one in particular -- but probably with the builders in mind. "Downright 'orrible. Is they keeping the blackguard under lock an' key, do ye know?"
Devlin, who was also standing near the gallows site collecting his thoughts, says to the young lady, "An excellent question, to which I am afraid I do not know the answer. I've heard all manner of things in the short time I've been here. I've also heard some disturbing things that could possibly call the prisoner's guilt into doubt. One always does, but it still troubles..."
"Dear, dear, isn't that just the way of the world?" Moll says, shaking her head. "I suppose I'd best know all, for fear I might meet the killer face to face and not know him..."
"Knowledge is power, as they say. I am Dev, by the way, and pleased to meet you.", he says, doffing his hat.
"I bet they didn't even have any short people investigating the case." The dwarf shakes his head sadly. He then turns to the two next to him, a slight smile on his lips and an impish gleam in his eye. "Reason number why it's better to be short: it's easier for short investigators to find clues and follow trails because they're closer to the ground."
The short fellow is well dressed in shining full plate armor. An icon of a bird of some sort is painted on to the polished wooden shield on his back, and a large, silver warhammer hangs at his side. On closer inspection, a lightning bolt can be seen carved into either side of the hammer in such a way so as to leave its impression on anybody unlucky enough to wind up on the wrong side of Thor's judgement.
"No offense intended of course." He winks at them both before his face grows sober. "But folks need ta be sure afore they go about hanging people for things. Seems a bit odd ta me that the sheriff is stopping people from even talking to tha' poor lad. 'Tain't right, bein' alone during your last days on this plane." He shakes his head again.
"Ahh, but where be me manners? I'm Granite, paladin o' Thor an' agent of the Shield branch of the church." He thrusts out a hand to shake.
"Moll Blackfoot," Moll says, smiling at Granite as she shakes his hand. "Uh, that's a Kellid clan name, not a nickname nor a descriptive name."
Moll briefly braces herself on Granite's shoulder and pulls one of her feet up out of her boot by way of Exhibit A.
"Thanks, there," she says once she has her foot back in the boot and has lifted her hand from the Dwarf's shoulder. "So... Prisoner ain't gettin' any visits? Not even a priest to pray for his soul? That does sound a mite fishy..."
One of the fellows working on fixing up the gallows pauses and wipes the sweat from his brow, panting in the hot sun. "Priest...? Oh, you mus' be thinkin' of Pastor Grayson! Yeah, he's been a bit busy consoling Mrs. Jaspar an' all. Him an' the sheriff both. Matter of fact, night of the fire, Mrs. Jaspar was at chapel-house up the road there."
The worker raises a slightly shaky hand, no doubt tired from the hot work, and points the group in the direction of a steepled wooden temple at the far end next to the schoolhouse. "Lucky thing, too! Hate to lose a sweet lady like her. Pastor Grayson even gave her lodgin' for the night there. She's been moved into the boardin' house since then, though. If your lookin' for her, you'd best try there."
Valerius walks up to the gallows and heads for the curious gathered group while overhearing the gallow's craftsman speak, and whispers to himself, "Perhaps these people also seek justice for Mr. Maron? I wonder?" Since Valerius is new to the conversation, so as not to be rude he waits until the craftsman and group are finished conversing.
"So. Seeing as we all seem to be interested, and hanging is a mite final," Moll whispers to the others, "which of you fine fellows feels like trying to chat up the grieving widow, the priest and the man already sentenced to havin' his neck stretched? 'Cause I think I can come up with a way to see the man. Condemned are still allowed family visits around here, right? And I do so want to see me 'dear, long-lost cousin'."
Moll grins saucily at the bit about her long-lost 'cousin'.
Granite nods. "Yeah, I figure we should try to hear his side of the story, if we can. I heard there were empty kerosine cans at the scene of the fire an' full ones at Maron's blacksmith. Personally, seems a tad strange ta me. He must've had a looootttt of kerosine to spare if he set the fire. And he'd have to be a tad daft to keep the evidence where he works. We might want ta leave the widow for later though, when we know what we'd want ta be askin' her. I don't want ta upset the lass more'n we have ta with multiple nosy visits."
"Not to mention he'd need to be daft to keep kerosine inside a smithy, where an errant spark could set a fire -- or cause an explosion," Moll adds, nodding.
Valerius interjects, "I am not sure the Sheriff will budge but it is worth a shot? In addition, most jails have barred windows in the cells. Perhaps, we can talk to Mr Maron through his window? By the way, my name is Valerius and well met. I am too, interested in helping. I can not stand when people face injustice especially from a trusted figure such as the Sheriff. I overheard people discussing it in the tavern" Valerius holds his hand out to shake someone's hand. Valerius continues as he shakes people's hands or not, "I agree, kerosene does not sound like a methods of arson for a blacksmith. We should investigate the scene of the crime too. Just because it is burnt, does not mean clues were left behind."
Granite enthusiastically shakes Valerius' hand. "Right then, I'll go talk to this pastor chap. And then, if time permits, mayhap I'll be looking into the bank ta see if there were anything financial like ta gain from burning tha place down."
"Let's leave the wife -- widow until we've had everything else, and meet at the inn when we're done," Moll suggests, swinging up her staff to lean against her shoulder. "Right, then! I'm off to prison."
The dark-haired girl winks and sets off for the Sheriff's station...
Valerius looks at Granite, "A strong grip you have there my warrior friend, I did not catch your name? And I agree, let's split up! I will check the scene of the crime and blacksmith shop, I have a few items I forgot to take out of my saddle bags before heading out on my sabbatical that will assist me in evidence collecting."
Valerius then looks at Moll, "Miss, you may have problems with the Sheriff, so you may have to use your charm or speak to the suspect through his jail cell window if need be."
"Using my charm won't be any trouble at all," Moll says, with a merry wink and a grin.
Valerius replies with a grin, "I think not."
"Moll, I might just come along with you, if you don't mind.", Dev says, falling into stride alongside her.
"Not a problem," Moll says in a cheerful tone. "You want to go round the back and check whether you can see if there's a window to chat through, or you want to go in the front with me and watch me commit a felony by lying to officers of the law?" Moll's eyes sparkle enthusiastically.
"Let's go 'round the front. Between the two of us, I'm sure we'll have some success, and if not, the window will still be there." Dev says, with an impish grin.
Valerius looks to Granite, "Not the cordial type those two? Anyway they have the right idea. I am going to get my kit and head over to my two volunteered assignments." Valerius waves to granites, heads to his inn room to pick up his evidence kit, then heads to the scene of the crime first,
Afterwards, Valerius will head to .
After giving Valerius his name, Granite wishes Moll and Devlin good luck. He then heads for the pastor's place.
Inside sits a humble, but well furnished office space. Next to the door is a faded wooden bench, sitting across from the big wooden desk. Cabinets and a big wardrobe sit along one side of the wall with a small window allowing light to flow in between them. On the other wall is a table with a collection of odds, ends and weapon parts lay strewn about.
Sitting behind the desk is a very imposing looking man; tall, a stern look under his matted black hair, unshaven and a wide-brimmed hat sitting on the desk. Sitting whittling away at something on the edge of the table is another, much younger man, shaking his head on occasion to move the dirty blonde lockes out of his green eyes.
The older man sits forward, eying the pair as they enter. "New folks? Sheriff Sark, law man around here. How can I be of assistance?"
Before Moll and Devlin head into the jailhouse, Moll briefly ducks into an alley and messes about with her grooming kit for a few precious moments. When she comes out, she has undone a few more buttons on her shirt and generally spruced up. "Here goes everything," she mutters to Devlin.
Walking into the jailhouse, Moll bestows a subdued smile on the Sheriff and says: "Greetings, Sheriff! I have been told that you have imprisoned Paul Maron, preparatory to his... execution. I am Moll Blackfoot. Paul and I are distant kin, cousins twice removed, but the requirements of clan and blood are absolute. When news reached us that Paul is to die, I rushed right over. I would visit with him before he is... gone."
Moll reaches up to Devlin's shoulder and squeezes it a little.
"This good man, Devlin, escorted me here -- for my safety."
Valerius places down his evidence kit outside of what used to be the door way and looks at the signs of disturbance and points to where it ends, "I bet that is where the body of Mr Jaspar was found? I already do not like what I see, this crime scene has not been fully inspected. Valerius shakes his head and then dons his leather gloves, takes out a magnifying glass, and grabs some evidence pouches from his evidence kit. Then he proceeds to carefully sift through the remains, including which was already disturbed, in a circular pattern collecting anything that his gut and constable training flags as interesting or as evidence.
Valerius does look up from time to time to see if he has any guests or set(s) of eyes watching him. Perhaps those people could be witnesses or the perp(s)?
"Yes. The young lady was obviously upset over what's to transpire with her kin, and I felt that she shouldn't be alone. Terrible, the news of what's happened."
Granite walks up to the alter, pausing briefly to close his eyes and send up a silent prayer to Thor to look kindly upon his task and help him protect the innocent. Then, not wanting to interrupt the man's prayers, he patiently waits to be acknowledged. If this takes more than a few minutes, he'll cough softly to get his attention.
The sheriff grunted as he brusquely interrupted. "I can. I see a lot of trouble. Never once heard Paul talk about family outside town. Gods only know if he's got any. In either case, little lady, no. Paul Maron is under strict surveillance, so nobody's allowed to come close to him. Besides, he's a dangerous man. Ain't no telling what he can do. It's as much for public safety as it is security."
The deputy looks up as if to protest with a frown, but a stern glare silences him immediately, as he turns back to Moll and Devlin. "Erm... sorry, ma'am. Seems the sheriff has spoken. My humblest apologies for getting your hopes up..." he says dejectedly, returning to his whittling project on the table.
Wading deeper into the charred wood, Valerius will notice something sticking out from what might have originally been a dresser of some sort. Browned and crisped for the most part, is a letter, or at least what appears to be the remnants of one. It doesn't look entirely finished, seeing at the bottom seems to cut off abruptly. But it's complete enough to read, and the inner details reveal it's from Mr. Jaspar to none other than Paul Maron.
Digging elsewhere, Valerius uncovers a burnt box, which contains a small collection of rings inside it. Their value varies, but it's clear that they aren't worth much; judging from the values, they couldn't be more than a silver piece each, even before being scorched by the fires.
His smile slowly fades into a remorseful frown as Granite explains himself and mentions the recent murder. "Ah, yes, that sticky business. Widow Jaspar is not here at the moment, I'm sad to say, but I'll pass along your condolences when she returns. I'm sure she'll be very thankful for the concern."
The pastor shakes his head as he pauses. "Poor little lady's taking it hard... not that you'd know. She puts on a brave face, but I can't imagine how awful she must feel, being the center of all that jealousy. I'm simply grateful she was here that terrible night instead of... well, you can imagine..." He motioned a hand to the array of figurines. "The gods work in strange ways, but shine a blessing on the faithful, as you can see."
Valerius draws a diagram of the charred remains and where every items was found including the spot of the alchemical kerosene smell which could be where the fire was started. He makes sure to handle the letter with care and that it is properly secured so as not to be damage for further analysis later. In addition, he bags the box of rings with the same care for later analysis and after the investigation, turn them back over to Mrs. Jaspar. That is, if she is not the guilty one.
After inspecting for surface evidence, Valerius also knocks on any remaining structure to see if there are any hidden compartments.
Lastly, Valerius continues to look up to see if he has attracted any onlookers.
If the site is totally processed, he will move on to Paul's blacksmith shop.