It shakes its head vigorously. "Nu-uh! I didn't do it."
"And do you know anything about what did happen? Did you see anything, or talk to anyone?" Iris asked. "We want to make sure that whoever was actually bad gets put in time-out - and people will like you more if you can help them find the bad person." she continued to speak in a calm, soothing way. "I do want to be your friend and help you. Do you have a name?" she asked.
The Beast shrugs its powerful shoulders. "I dunno. Father called me 'vengeance' sometimes. And I didn't do nothing! I was in the swamp, and then I was in that big building, and there were guards. Don't know how I got there. They said I was bad and brought me here for time-out. When can I go home?"
Iris nodded again. It didn't know how it had gotten between places? Interesting. Maybe some kind of split-personality... or long-distance control? Interesting things could be done with golems, though she'd have to carefully investigate and keep an open mind. Being called 'Vengeance' was suggestive in and of itself... "Then I shall call you Farris - it means 'strong as iron'." she decided. "You can't go home until after the other people have talked and figured out whether you actually did the bad things or not. You might know, but they don't, so they have to find out." she tilted her head, considering. "I suppose I'd better get to the investigating. Wait here for now, Farris - the better you behave, the more I can help you." With that, she made her way up the stairs and towards the outside of the building. It was best to begin this investigation as early as possible, given the distinct lack of time they had.
The Beast nods. "I like Farris. You're a nice lady. I'll be good. When are you coming back?"
"At the latest, you'll see me tomorrow, Ferris." she answered. Morast seemed to be the most important place to visit for now, and she decided to move quickly towards that particular city. The sooner she arrived, the more time she'd have for investigating the issue and uncovering whatever evidence she could about Ferris' actions.
Morast is a miserable collection of 20 or so wattle-and-daub hovels built on stilts over the Dipplemere Swamp and connected by soggy wooden boardwalks. The villagers (simple fisherfolk by the looks of them) look at you with curiosity and suspicion as you approach.
Was 20 families even enough for a healthy population? Inbreeding was bad, though the reasons for that were lost on most mortals, the majority of whom just went for the 'bad blood' explanation. Hm. Still, she smiled and waved as she approached - despite the flashbacks to Ravenmoor's swamps - and made no effort at all to hide her presence. Once she arrived, she started looking around for anything that would signal the presence of some kind of elder or headman - they would probably have the most information, and as such, that would be an ideal place to start her questioning.
As you draw closer, a man of above-average height approaches you. "Can I help you with something? It's unusual for a lone stranger to visit us - especially a woman."
"That doesn't surprise me." Iris observed. "I'm here to ask about the murder case from awhile back. I don't want to hear any stories or speculation, just whatever the people here actually saw. This is for a legal trial, and it's important for the evidence to be as impartial as possible - and even if the defendant is guilty, flawed and biased evidence could prevent justice from being done." she explained. "With that in mind, is there anything you can tell me?"
The man snorted and spit swampweed juice on the ground. "Already told them cityfolk everything I saw, but I guess there's no harm in doing it again. Started happening about a year ago, I reckin'. The Beast started comin' and takin' people. At first it was just lone chaps who were outside at night, but then it got bolder. After a couple of our houses were smashed, I figured we outta end it once and for all. Next time it came, we were ready with torches and spears. It was huge! Reckin it was maybe seven feet high, but we wounded it good, and it took off into the swamp. We followed it in boats, and Lady Luck was on our side. It had just reached the boneyard" (he points to a small island about a mile outside the village) "when it got jumped by a blood caiman." The man grins at the memory. "The Beast yelled curses that even the worst whore in Lepidstadt would blush at sayin' as the croc dragged it underwater. Clear as day, I saw the wound: a huge chunk ripped outta its shoulder. Course, we had to build a new boneyard after that. Can't have our remains be tainted by that thing's blood. Still, it was worth it to see the Beast die. Then we found out it survived somehow and started hurtin' a bunch more folks, so I went to the big city and told the guards what I knew. I'm lookin' forward to seeing it burn in a few days, that's for sure."
Iris considered his words - and stopped a sigh as he added conjecture anyway. All right, analyzing them... the size sounded comparable, at least, although the curses didn't sound like the beast she'd talked to. She also didn't recall seeing any large wounds in the creature's shoulder, though in fairness, that could have been healed or patched over by now. "How much did you see of its death, exactly, and what were its physical features? And where was this old boneyard?" she inquired, fully intending to investigate the place. She also wanted to know if there was anything besides its height that the man could tell her about. It did SOUND like the Beast on the surface, but if she was going to do this, she would do it right - and that meant not jumping to conclusions.
"Well, it was pretty dark, but it looked like a huge hulking monster. Ya know? Like the Beast is supposed to! As for its death, I clearly saw the blood caiman rip out a big ol' chunk of its shoulder. I think it was the right shoulder. Anyway, I bite that size would have torn off the arm of one of us normal-size folks, but the Beast's stayed on. Can't have had much use left, though. Probably why it got captured so easy by you city folks." He spits out some more swampweed to punctuate this.
"There's not much to see at the old boneyard. Nobody's been there since ... well since the Beast fell there. It's cursed ground now, and nobody wants its taint rubbin' off on them. Still, if you're set on goin' there, you can use my coracle. Cost ya five gold if ya do. I'll be needin' to build a new one iffen you take it out there."
Well, she could save the money and head out there herself... or she could not get covered in muck.
With a shrug, she started rowing out to the boneyard, fully intending to see whatever she could. It didn't sound like they had disturbed the place much, which was a plus - and among her talents was examining the ground and learning things few people would have believed possible to see.
A tiny, miserable island rises from the swamp, a tangle of trees covering its dour, reed-choked surface. Hundreds of fetishes hang from the trees - simple, roughly humanoid figures made of sticks and bound with twine. Larger fetishes are planted in the ground on various parts of the island, leaning drunkenly in the soft mud. A large nest built of sodden swamp wood sits high in the boughs of a trio of tangled trees on the northwest side of the isle. As you make landfall, you hear a warning shriek, and a winged lion-headed beast rises from the nest. You can see that it's heavily pregnant.
A pregnant beast? Ah. Well, that made things awkward. She was quite fond of seeing families grow - babies were the dawn of life, and she was loathe to interfere with that. Worse, pregnant beasts were often very territorial - but she also needed access to the island.
"I mean you no harm and have no intention of disturbing your nest!" she called out, hoping it was intelligent enough to understand. "You are free to watch me and ensure I mean what I say! Will you let me pass by in peace?"
The beast considers your words for a long minute before responding in surprisingly-articulate Common. "Keep to the south end of this island and don't make too much noise. Be gone when nightfall comes, or I'll eat you."
"Then the agreement is made." Iris said, rowing towards the south end of the island. It was still some time before night, and that ought to be enough to resolve this particular problem. Once there, she landed on the ground and drew her staff, looking for any clues about what had been happening here.
Six graves in the boneyard appear to have been tampered with: sagging into the ground as if they had collapsed from below, and leaving wide depressions in the muddy earth. These graves are empty; the others: undisturbed.
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At the south end of the island, you find the remains of an old campsite. Around a small firepit are a waterskin (half-full with wind), spoiled trail rations, and a curious glass vial. The bottom of the vial contains a few drops of a green substance that smells vaguely of carrots.
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You find a well-hidden coracle on the island's southwest shore. It contains a single oar, a moldy artisan's outfit, and what appears to be a detached human face. You also notice dried blood on the bottom of the boat.
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Stretching from the coracle into the water is a length of rope. Pulling it up, you find an enormous sack (large enough to hold a single Medium creature). Discoloration of the fabric indicates it was covered in blood at some point. Inside the sack, you find some rope, a gag, a rusted lantern, three heavy knives, and a rusted shovel.
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Near the coracle, You find a leather-bound case filled with fine tools. These are made from silver and have amethyst handles. A small symbol of a raven is engraved on the case.
Nightfall is fast approaching.
Curious, Iris picked up the vial. An extract to grant darkvision...? She had no idea what that was used for, but it was definitely interesting.
All right, looking at all the evidence that was here... the disturbed graves were definitely important, and the locals didn't seem like the sort of people who'd do that. The medical tools suggested that whoever had retrieved the bodies had some interest in working with the bodies - possibly to use in the creation of Ferris, possibly for necromancy, or for some reason that wasn't entirely clear yet. The bag may have been used to move the bodies, and the shovel gave added point to that.
She carefully retrieved the items, and noting the setting sun, she loaded the items into her small boat and started rowing back to the town. The face was gruesome, but interesting, and she wanted to know if any of the locals recognized it.
From what you know about golem construction, the extract is entirely unnecessary. Flesh golems naturally have darkvision, and the spell is not a necessary component during construction. Odd....
The man you spoke to earlier jumps in surprise when you show him the "mask." "That's Nan Klebern! He came around here pretty regular. About once a month, if I remember right. Haven't seen him for about a year, though. Right about when the Beast started snatchin' people, in fact. Who'd want a mask of Nan's face, though? He's always had a pretty ugly mug."
"Who indeed." Iris mused. "How very fascinating, that someone would disappear right when a creature rampaged, and then we find evidence they may have never been real. Did they seem interested in any part of your town? Say, the graveyard you're no longer using?"
The man shook his head. "Not really. He'd come in for a day or two each month, bag himself a blood caiman, and leave. A real hunter-type, you know?"
"All right." Iris mused, pausing for a moment to thing. Considering the evidence she had at the moment...
1) Nan Klebern had probably never existed, and most likely had been involved with excavating bodies.
2) Not-Nan regularly collected some type of crocodile, which was apparently large and strong enough to take down a seven-foot flesh golem. Or in other words, a golem was unable to kill what a hunter was.
2a) This assumed they were ACTUALLY crocodiles, and not some kind of illusion, puppet, or other disguise. Such would not be difficult if the 'creatures' were kept away from close observation, and could be an excellent way of moving bodies. However, she would not assume that without proof.
3) Whatever creature had been downed had been beaten right where Not-Nan had apparently been working and investigating various graves.
4) The tools were sufficiently well-made to be interesting... perhaps even memorable. Whoever had owned them was likely involved somehow - and these things didn't get made in tiny villages like this one. More probably, they'd been made (or at least sold) in the city. There wasn't much of the day left, so if she was going to question anyone, she'd have to do it fast - perhaps relying on charm and the local appreciation for justice to talk to anyone who was tired. This trial REALLY needed more time for a proper investigation... sigh.
"...Thank you for the information. I think that's everything I needed to know." she said. "May the morning light always shine upon your path." With that, she set out and began moving back towards the city, fulling intending to make good time.
If the skeletons and preserved skins hanging in many of the huts were any indication, blood caiman hunting is a major profession in this village. They don't seem any larger than normal.
It's dark by the time you return to Lepidstadt, and almost all of the local businesses are closed. Of course, if you venture into one of the seedier districts, you can probably find some establishments that are open 24/7.
Grimacing at her current inability to keep the sun up - though some other deities would have yelled at her for doing that - Iris trudged forward, searching the seedier districts for someone who might be able to point her towards whoever had sold these particular items. Given their quality, there probably weren't TOO many sellers for her to investigate... she just had to hope they slept in the same buildings as the shops.
The skills required to make surgeons' tools are rare, but because of the presence of Lepidstadt University, 20 such artisans work locally. They operate in an area known as the Surgeons' Flats. Narrowing them down, however, proves difficult as they're all closed for the night. You end up going to an emergency clinic that's open constantly. After some time, a physician is able to spare a few minutes and identifies the raven on the case as the maker's mark of Zbraslav Hora and Sons. Their workshop is located in Anatomist's Alley.
With the information in hand, Iris headed off to sleep, intending to rest as well as she could. She rose early - as always - and quietly prepared her spells for the day before setting off to the workshop and knocking on the door as soon as the place indicated it was open. "Mr. Hora? My name is Iris, and I need to speak with you immediately. You're not in trouble, but someone else might be."
Zbraslav Hora is a bookish, taciturn man with thick spectacles. "What's wrong?"
"I was told that you originally created these tools." Iris explained, showing the items in question to him. "Can you tell me who bought them from you, and where they might be at the moment? The more information you can provide, the better - it could make all the difference in proving someone guilty or innocent."
Your tone and affect convey that there isn't time to argue about this. Clearly you're an authority figure of some sort, and it's always a good idea to cooperate with such people. "One moment." Hora pulls a large ledger from behind the counter and consults it carefully. Vladka Kostel. She's a red-haired Varisian woman. I remember she wore a green silk scarf with a swan on it. I think she said she worked for an auction house, but I don't remember which."[/b]
"Thank you for your cooperation, sir." Iris said, remembering - as always - that courtesy was critical. "I wish I could stay longer, but I really must track this down as quickly as possible."
over
It's just after 8am by the time you're able to locate the woman. She works for Ledov's Chirurgery Merchants and remembers the buyer as wearing an unusual high hat and green-tinted reading glasses. Unfortunately, her employer (a bald stuffy man named Ollo Klud) has no interest on releasing client information to "any odd person off the street."
Iris exhaled slightly. She didn't have time for these sorts of conversations, and she stared Klud straight in the eyes as she focused.
"That's very admirable of you, and I'm glad to hear you take privacy seriously, but I'm here as part of an official investigation at the request of your own government." the goddess of the dawn said, putting everything she could into swaying the two of them to see things her way. "If you help me, you're helping see justice done - and I've heard that's important around here."
Ollo's eyes glaze over slightly, and he nods in agreement. "The tools were purchased by a man named Radniche. He runs a chirurgery supply shop in the Surgeons' Flats."
After getting more specific directions (if possible), Iris curtsied slightly. "Thank you for your cooperation. I know it's not easy to talk, but you did the right thing." she said, leaving the auction house and proceeding towards the shop in question. There was only likely to be time for one or two more stops before she had to head to the courthouse, and she was determined to make the most of what time she had.
Radniche's cramped shop is piled with skeletons, pickled things in jars, and alchemical components. He smiles as you enter. "Top of the morning to you, good miss. What can I interest you in on this fine day?"
"I need to know who bought these tools." Iris said, placing them on the countertop and looking into his eyes. Bit of a creepy place, this, but... probably not outright evil. She'd definitely prefer a little more open space, though. Please, please, PLEASE don't say they'd been sold to another store or some traveling vendor... "I know privacy is important in this town, but I'd be very appreciative if you could tell me." Just a little bit of appreciation there - which would, in fact, be true. She was honestly grateful towards anyone who helped, even if she couldn't stick around to reward them as well as she'd like.
Radniche looks apologetic. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but discretion is my number one selling point. If I violate my customers' confidentiality, they'd be forced to look elsewhere for their needs. I wish I could help; I really do."
"I would hope for quality to be your top selling point... unless you have something to hide." Iris pointed out, trying to get a better feel for what might get him to tell her. She'd prefer to avoid outright threats, but if it wasn't that...
"Oh, we pride ourselves on quality as well, but many of our buyers prefer to remain unknown. My silence is an added bonus, and I'm paid quite well for it."
Looking around, you notice that Radniche's items tend to be quite a bit more expensive that his competitors'. He's clearly a man who values coin over fair prices. And if his buyers are willing to pay extra for his silence, he probably doesn't cater to the most ethical of clientele. Overall, you'd assess him as a man of dubious morals at best. Such a man can often be persuaded to do anything ... if the price is right...
Iris put three platinum coins on the table. "Not as well as I'm paying you right now." she said calmly, looking him straight in the eye. "And I suspect this particular customer won't be buying from you again anyway."
In the time it takes you to blink, the coins vanish. "Now that you mention it, I do recall that particular set of tools.... They were bought by a rather dapper gentleman. Quite a dapper fellow, actually. Dressed all in black from head to toe. I think he said he owns a chymic works somewhere nearby."
Iris just looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "I'm quite pressed for time. Anything else you can say to narrow down my search would be remembered - and depending on how this investigation knows, I might well need some alchemical tools in the near future..." Convincing people who could bribe in platinum that you were worth revisiting was always a sensible strategy for businessmen, right?
Radniche's brow furrows as he ponders this, but his expression soon clears. While his buyers' privacy was paramount, platinum pieces weren't seen every day, and you'd handed them to him so casually, like they didn't even represent much wealth to you. Clearly, your happiness (and future business) had been made top priority.
"Why, I do believe they were purchased by Master Vorkstag, of Vorkstag and Grime's Chymic Works."
"Thank you - that's all I needed to know." Iris said calmly. "May the sun always shine upon your business." With that, she gathered her things and left, heading towards the courthouse so she could get through security and do what she could to add the results of her investigations to what the court would be willing to consider. As she called, judicial systems could be VERY firm about what was allowed, and she wanted to be sure everything was done properly.
...Unless she'd gotten some kind of special exemption to present things at will, but that was so unlikely she didn't even find it worth seriously considering.