Zeitgeist - a Single Flame (Inactive)

Game Master JonGarrett

Hime nodded slightly, making a note in her journal before going ahead and moving in that direction. She knew enough of science to be aware that even a failure wasn't an inherently bad result - really, no result was bad as long as you learned something helpful from it. In this case, she'd learned that the spell was reacting somehow - suggesting, but not proving, it actually worked - and that this major intersection wasn't where the energies seemed to be concentrating. Sadly, she probably wouldn't be able to form a real map of where the energies lay, despite the usefulness of that information.

As you reach the gates near Cauldron Hill, you can feel the flows wicked energy flowing off the mountain. You recall, now, that there was something similar when you first came, but it was pushed to the back of your mind. As you use the spell, the feeling intensifies, making your stomach broil. For just a second you glimse...something. A shadow, looming across the mountain. Then it's gone.

Moving slowly and carefully, Hime continued to scan the area, looking to see if the energy here would repeat itself or simply vanish into the air. The evidence was definitely falling onto the side of 'working', at least, which was worrying in its own way... but she had a job to do, and by golly, she was going to do it.

OK! Finally found a way to hook this back into a plot thread. Brain has started working again. Yay, brain!

As you wander through the city, you detect the sensation of the dark magic from a bridge. Looking beneath it via the canal path reveals a small area affected by rust, but the rust forms sigils of unknown origin. Further investigation reveals several other bridges with the same markings, a total of six, all along the same canal.

You know from rumours that this canal is occasionally used by smugglers, especially those that work for Lorcan Kell.

Know Local - Who?: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (5) + 14 = 19

He is a well-known figure in the underworld, responsible for a good chunk of the more organized crime in the city. Rumour has it that he is currently the only major holdout against the Family, a group from Crisillyir who typically function in a non-violent manner. It was his men who attempted the kidnapping of Morena.

Hmm... were the smugglers involved with whatever was going on here, then? That might be worth looking into, although as an officer of the RHC, they were likely to be less open to discussion than Gale had been, especially after that... incident... earlier.

Sense Motive (Hunch - What to do to get on the track you'd like me to be on? XD) Taking: 10 + 10 = 20

Basically, you have two obvious options. The first is to track down the other elements in Nilasa's life, by investigating her past and her connections by visiting the Thinking Man Tavern.

The second would be to investigate the bridges. The simplest way would be to talk to the Lorcan Kell, or his competition within the Family. Either would present challenges.

Each of these is an additional 'thread' in the story. You'll need to complete at least two to get what you need, although capturing the arsonists means one is already complete. It's up to you which you'd prefer to do.

After reviewing the information she'd gathered thus far - including her notes - Hime ultimately wound up heading towards the Thinking Man Tavern. Dealing with Kell was doable, but difficult at best, and she was going to have a hard enough time explaining her meeting with Gale. What she needed were some results... and for that, she needed information.

The Thinking Man's Tavern is a large and spacious building near the docks, named after a statue that sits by the door or a man apparently thinking, but assembled from various bits of harbour detritus. The bar's gleaming wooden surface stands before you, while a band plays in the common room to one side - the main area seating a possible sixty people while the area above houses another forty on a balcony.

A doorway to the rear opens up onto a patio, where various people smoke pipes, cigars and other things in the early season sun. Through a door behind the bar you can also see the kitchens.

A tall man stands behind the bar, and perhaps the oldest serving 'girl' you've ever seen, who seems to be most made up of wrinkles and a smile, serves the patrons in the common room. The band - playing and singing a song that seems to favour the Fae and treats the King as a baffoon, stand to one side and led by a Halfling. Up the stairs you can hear carousing and merriment...although the snaps of conversation you can hear make it sound oddly political.

And finally, a familiar face - Thames Grimsly, the man who helped you identify the four protestors before the Coaltoungues launch.

After a moment of consideration, Hime headed over to the bar, asking what drink Grimsly preferred. As promised, she'd mentioned the problems he'd brought up to her - truly ridiculous days, for one thing. Alas, bureaucracy was bureaucracy, and she wasn't sure how much had been done yet... but she had fulfilled her end of the bargain. If he didn't know that, though... well, at least bringing over his favored drink would be good, and she got one for herself as well.

She didn't have much trouble navigating the crowds of the establishment. She often performed in places like this when she was off-duty - it helped to build personal connections - and that would probably stop people from worrying too much about her presence. People who were nervous tended to act differently, after all.

"Good evening." she said cheerfully, setting the drink down in front of him and taking the closest empty seat. "How are things going on the docks?" the question was earnest - and, among other things, was meant to show that she hadn't forgotten their previous conversation, and that she was still interested in its resolution. Trying to hide from the issue - one clearly near and dear to his heart - wouldn't have been wise.

"Officer," he replied with a nod and taking the drink with a small smile. "Trouble, mostly. You heard that some of the factory owners have been locking up there employees, making them work through? Well, we're trying to protest that. Don't worry. I've got the proper paperwork, if that's why you've come...although you don't seem the type." He nodded again. "I heard you kept your promise, and the Dockers thank you for it."

"Peaceful protest is one of the rights of our citizens, and I've no doubt you filled things out properly." she answered with a small smile. "Actually, though, those factories are part of the reason I'm here. You may have already heard from your people, but this morning I wound up having to evacuate a factory - one of the Skyseers had a vision of a fire, a big one, and we put a stop to that. Captured some of those involved, too - with any luck, we'll be able to figure out who's really behind those fires and stop them from putting the workers at risk." She took a small sip of her own drink. "Which brings me to the reason I'm actually here. A young woman was recently found dead at the Danorian Embassy, under circumstances suspicious as hell. We - by which I mean the RHC - want to know why. The factory that was nearly burned this morning was the same one she lived in, which I can't quite believe was a coincidence, particularly given some other information I've recently obtained. His Majesty's Government is not amused by murder, and even less so at what looks like a coverup that could have killed quite a few more innocent people. Is there anyone here who might know more about Ms. Hume and the people she associated with?"

Grimsly rubbed his chin. "Yeah, she was a regular here, I think. Didn't know her well myself, but she talked to the lot making music and the lot talking upstairs. A word of warning, though - the lot on stage are part of the Cloudwood Bandit lot. Like the Duchess a lot more than the Queen. And them upstairs...well, if you can keep up with them, and back up what you say, you'll likely get anything they know." He nodded to the barmaid as well. "Barb might know something too, but don't upset her. Everyone loves Barb, and you won't get a thing if she isn't happy."

Hime nodded thoughtfully and, waiting until the barmaid was open for a moment, raised a hand to wave her over. Having a known face in on the conversation - or at least close by - would probably relax the girl and help her feel a little less... on-the-spot. Fortunately, the RHC had training for dealing with civilians in situations like this.

The old woman walked over with a smile. "What can I get for ya, lovely?"

"Information, ma'am." Hime said. "I'm afraid I'm on the job right now, so I can't have another drink. I'm Constable Hime, with the RHC - and please know that I'm not investigating you for anything, but I do hope you'll be able to cooperate. One young girl has already lost her life, and I want to find out why - especially so I can make sure nobody else gets hurt. Mr. Grimsly here thinks you might know something, so if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a few questions." As she spoke, she did her best to be patient, friendly, and welcoming. It probably helped that she was used to charming others - in many ways - and wasn't too bad at looking like the sort of person that nice old ladies wanted to help.

Diplomacy (Improve Attitude): 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (19) + 12 = 31

Barb sat down with a small sigh. "Someone's been murdered? That's 'orrible. Was it that Jeannie? I always said she'd come to a bad end, that Jeannie, with the sorts of young men she spent time with." A sniff told all about what she thought of those kinds of young men.

Hime shook her head. "I'm afraid it was a young Miss Hume. I understand she was rather liked around here, and I am sorry for your loss - but for now, can you tell me what you know of her? The people she associated with, and places she liked to go?"

The old lady's face fell like an aged apple. "Nilasa? Oh, that poor sweet girl. She was a lovelly child - just lovelly. She'd been in a skip of trouble as a girl, but then who hasn't? She'd left that all behind, though. Had a proper job working for Heward Sechim. Not a day's trouble to her name since, by my reckoning. She had a young man, too, from up that Embassy. Not my sort, but she seemed to like him well enough, and that's what counts." Wrinkling her brow in thought, she added, "She liked to talk to them scallywags on stage. Don't mind there moaning. They're so much hot air we have to damp the fires down when they sing. And the lot upstairs shut up when she spoke, which is a sure sign of favour."

Hime nodded, mentally taking notes for later review. "Were there any topics that seemed to come up particularly often with them? Anything they really enjoyed discussing, or perhaps tended to disagree about?" she inquired, going with a sympathetic but professional tone. She did not want to sound like she was judging Nilasa - only that she was trying to gain a better understanding of the girl's life and figure out what, exactly, had happened.

"Politics, mostly. But in this place it's hard to expect anything else. It's that or philosophy, and there was plenty of that." Barb gave Hime a look. "Nothing disloayal, mind you. Just grumblings."

"There is nothing disloyal about discussing politics." Hime answered, looking Barb right in the eyes. "While His Majesty certainly frowns on the use of violence or other law-breaking activities for political purposes-" Her encounter with the Duchess came to mind, "-simply discussing views and, indeed, lobbying or even organizing in support of particular ideas is fine. I believe I'll go over and talk to them, then. I suspect your shift isn't over for awhile, but just in case, I'd appreciate it if you could remain on the premises until I leave, just in case there's anything else I need to ask you. Thank you for your time, both of you." she said, nodding to both and finishing the drink she did have, then setting down money to pay (and a decent tip) on the table.

With that, she moved over towards the stage, waiting for a pause in their performance.

The band continued to sing - you suspect purely to make you wait - for another 15 minutes before finally round down and the lead singer steeping down. As a gnome, it was quite a way down. "So, what does the RHC want in the Thinking Man, Officer Pretty?"

*Glances at Umbriak and Opi... and wonders what's with all the emphasis on being short*

"Justice - for one of your friends." she answered, content enough to be patient. Some people liked to turn their noses up at authority, but they usually stopped trying if they didn't get a reaction. Besides, she was a professional here, and had exactly no intention of allowing herself to be bothered by every minor slight. "I should clarify up front that none of you are suspects in my investigation. Do you have a few minutes to answer my questions?"

Being tall is standard for me, so I tend to overemphasise being short when in character.

The Gnome opened his mouth, but another bandmate whispered something in his ear. His eyes widen in surprise at what he hears. "It was you who helped out with Nevard's woman?" He nods, more respectfully. "Alright, yeah. Pull up a seat. Who died, and what you needing to see justice done?"

At their offer, Hime simply took a stool and sat down near the stage, waving away anyone else who came too close. "The deceased is a Ms. Nilasa Hume, who I hear exchanged some lively debates with you - which is perfectly fine, I might add. Do you know the people she associated with when she wasn't here?" She still needed to find out what had happened to the things Nilasa had taken and passed off to someone else - hopefully, it was one of her associates. Failing that, maybe some people in a place like this knew who'd know...

"Hah, yeah, that would interest you." The gnome leaned forward. "That nice man you met in the Cloudwoods? He occasionally divests people of goods they may have been unaware they wished to part with. He needs someone to smuggle them around. I hear Nilasa knew about that. Used to run with a couple of guys, but they got flinched. You could find them in that floating crap factory of a prison, Goodsons."

An officer in a prison, huh? Oh, that would be all kinds of fun...

Know Local (I should probably be aware of the details of this place... XD): 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (2) + 14 = 16

"Do you have any names for me?" she inquired - it would making finding people in a prison much easier if she actually knew who to look for. That, and Nilasa was more connected than she seemed... goodness knew how deep this rabbit hole went.

He is referring to Goodsons Estuarial Reformatory - a series of a dozen decommissioned vessels that have been lashed together in a permanent prison.

"No, but it should be in her records. Known past associates or some such. They'll probably be happy to talk. Depending on what you want to offer."

She had a few ideas on that end. Prisoners tended to be twitchy types when they were being questioned - her best bet would probably be to get Nilasa's... associates... away from other inmates so nobody would know they'd talked. Between that and Milo's Truthtelling, she ought to be able to get all of the information she needed.

"Sounds like a lead worth pursing, then. Is there anything else you know about her that you think might be relevant to what happened?"

Diplomacy (Convince them to volunteer any other information): 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25

Whatever the answer, she'll say her farewells - including to the barmaid and docker - and head off towards the closest place that'd have Nilasa's records.

He doesn't, but promises if anything relating to her murder he'll pass it along.

It's a simple matter to pull the records at the closest office, and you quickly have a copy in hand.

Oh, good. Names. That was the important part, really, since most of the other relevant bits she'd already grabbed. It was going to be interesting seeing how much this file was going to grow by the time her investigation was done, and with a nod, she returned the file before heading out and making her way towards Goodson's. The sooner she talked to Nilasa's accomplices, the better.

The ships, masts and rudders long since removed, sit in the estuary far enough from shore that swimming would be a challenge. All the boats are freshy painted, although the paint near the waterline already shows evidence of quick and easy waste disposal.

On deck, it becomes obvious that the challening swim wasn't considered enough. All the prisoners wear light weight leg manacles - not enough to drag them down should they go overboard, but more than enough to make swimming shore borderline suicide.

A man, flanked by two guards, approaches as you look around. He states he is Derek Goodson, head of this facility, and asks your buisness.

Hime had seriously considered waiting onshore... but it was probably going to be faster to do things aboard the vessels. "Constable Hime, RHC, here on an investigation." she said, showing her badge. The RHC had a lot of authority, but it never hurt to be polite. "I need to talk to two of your prisoners - Ford Sorghum and Travis Starter. Individually, I think, and away from the other inmates. I'd also like some decent food for them - we can always pressure them later, but for now, I'd rather go with the nice approach."

Goodson agrees readily enough, and arranges for them each to be placed in a separate interview room and fed from the staff stocks.

Ah, it was lovely to have civilians who were willing to cooperate. ...Admittedly, a man who ran a prison probably wasn't going to do anything to upset one of the nation's elite policing forces, but still. She wasn't taking it for granted, though, and promptly thanked him for his help - most people enjoyed being recognized, and she knew how important it was that people continued to want to cooperate.

She went to visit Ford first - if she had to pick a reason, it was simply that it was alphabetical - and calmly sat down across from him before gesturing to the food. "As you'd probably guessed, Mr. Sorghum, I have a couple of questions for you. The food's yours no matter how you answer, by the way, so go ahead and start if you'd like. When you're ready, though... tell me, do you care about your friends?"

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27

The man looks up from the food for a moment. "Depends on the friend. Some of them ain't too friendly, know what I mean?" He seems willing to listen, but cautious. He's seen the carrot and the stick often enough to recognize the carrot and be waiting for the stick.

"Reputation for omniscience aside, we don't actually know everything - but last I heard, you were still on decent terms with Nilasa." she observed. And if he wasn't... well, she still had the other prisoner to talk to. "That kind of friend."

The food stopped. "Nilasa is clean. Has been for years. Anyone who says anything is else is out for something."

Sense Motive, on general principles: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24

"Are you sure about that?" Hime asked. "Nothing you've heard lately that might have led her to... reconsider? Money, a cause...?" she paused for a moment. "And in case it wasn't clear from the food, I can help you... in quite a few ways." she set her badge down on the table. "Depending, of course, on how much you can help me."

The man drummed his finger on the table. "You know, prison makes a lot of men inta animals, yeah? Buy and sell their fellows for a few pieces of bread or a jar of rum. So, tell me officer, what would it take for you to sell your family into a place like this when they don't deserve it? More food? Visit from your man or woman? Early release, even?" Ford shook his head. "I want a lot of things, but one of them is she never sees the inside of this rat nasty place."

"Oh, I can assure you, Nilasa is in no danger of being imprisoned." Hime answered smoothly. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but she's really not in danger of anything anymore - she's dead, and I have reason to believe it was far more than a simple robbery attempt gone wrong. She may have relapsed a bit, but she certainly didn't deserve to die for her deeds... and it's my intention to rip open the curtain on whoever's truly behind this chain of events, getting revenge for her in the process." The whole time, her tone didn't waver. It was important to remain calm in front of prisoners. "So, at the risk of repeating myself... do you care about your friends, enough to talk, or would you rather the person ultimately responsible for Nilasa's death go free?"

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23

Ford watched Hime intently for a moment, before his shoulders slumped. "Whatever I get, I get for Travis too. That's the deal. Might as well have something good come of this."

"If he's willing to cooperate, that shouldn't be a problem - I'm planning to talk to him next." Hime answered calmly. "I don't mind helping those who deserve it." She paused, clearly inviting him to say something that would actually be worth hearing.

"On the very day of our arrest, Nilasa was talking about some of the good fortune she'd recently enjoyed. She was part of a big deal, to move a lot of stuff that the customs officials didn't get a good look at, being too distracted by a bit of silver he happened to find. She told us the names, the buyer and seller, and where she got a king's randsom to pay for it." Ford looked at Hime. "And would that information be worth our freedom?"

As an officer of the RHC, what are my actual limits here? Do I have the ability to arrange for pardons (and, presumably, lesser rewards)? Similarly, is this something likely to bring down official displeasure, and/or cost me anything significant, like pull with a group? XD ...Hime'd rather not make a promise she can't keep.

Since they're petty thieves, you have the authority to pardon them. And pretty much anything of less impact, if you prefer not to simply release thieves back into the population.

"If you don't know the full story behind her theft attempt, I can't offer a full pardon - but partial information can still be worth a lesser reward. Say, a reduction of both your sentences by half." Hime offered. "Counting from the beginning, of course, not time remaining." If he did the crime, he needed to serve the time - but reductions could be offered for cooperation and generally good behavior.

The main looked to the side for a moment. "I don't know anything about any thefts. She talked to us about smuggling. But I doubt they're not connected - the kind of money we're talking means any simple theft wasn't worth it." Ford looked up. "Half the sentence, and some luxuries. Decent food, conjugal visits, laundry done once a week instead of once a month."