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Steady sleet patters against the window of Dryblade House, breaking up the Lodge’s eerie silence. Venture-Captain Istivil Bosk emerges from his office accompanied by dwarf in a military uniform, who pulls a flask from his coat pocket and fills two small glasses with vodka.
“I’ve already made excuses to my superiors, and I’ll check in myself every few hours to make sure the safe house is still secure,” the dwarf rumbles, handing one glass to the venturecaptain. “You focus on hammering out your agent’s escape route.”
“Already working on it,” Bosk replies. The two raise their glasses in a toast.
“Then may we take this story to our graves, and drag our heels the whole way there,” the dwarf proclaims as they each down their vodka. The dwarf sets his glass on the table, dons a thick wool cloak, and trudges out into the sleet.
“That was Brandur Clovesh, a sergeant in Daggermark’s infantry,” Bosk explains, closing the door after his departed guest. “Please excuse his brevity. He’s taking a big risk to help me out of a dire situation, the same situation that led me to request your aid. One of our local agents, a gnome named Timinic, has been exploring and surveying the sewer complexes beneath Daggermark. I made sure to clear his activities with every official possible so we wouldn’t draw unwanted attention from the Assassin’s Guild or the Poisoner’s Guild, which run the city behind the scenes."
"To my knowledge we’ve stayed in the Guilds’ good graces, but somehow Timinic’s mission ran afoul of...” A fit of coughing interrupts Bosk mid-sentence, and he begins gasping and clutching his chest. His vodka glass shatters as it tumbles from his hand. Moments later, the venture-captain collapses.
Round One bold may post
Wallace Lundgren
Llorva
Lizbeth
Chorlo
Ayo
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A man in bold red armor with gold trim leaps to his feet, heading for the door. The holy symbol of Iomedae hanging from a sturdy chain around his neck and upon his cape make his allegiances clear. "See to Venture-Captain Bosk, Sergeant Clovesh is either the culprit or choking to death in the snow!" By the Inheritor, what dishonorable cur uses poison!
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Chorlo moves to the venture captain, his long coat swooshing behind him as he does. "Don't touch the cup it could be poisoned still." Chorlo says pulling out a dagger to move the cup around to inspect it.
Inspiration ¾ (+1d6 to skills, 2 uses on attacks)
Adhesive spittle DC 14, Blurred Movement, Shield
Alchemist’s Fire
Arrows 16/20
Blunt Arrows 20/20
Holy Water
Wand of Cure Light Wounds 48/50
Several rush to Bosk's aid. He gasps, "Po..potion..desk.." With a feeble wave the venture captain gestures toward the roll-top desk in the corner of the room. Lizbeth runs to the desk and starts looking for a flask.
Though Llorva cannot identify the exact nature of the poison, she tries to think of a cure to administer.
Ayo infuses Bosk with a touch of divinity, but all it seems to do is bring a phlemmy cough up from his lungs.
Chorlo holds the snifter up to see it better in the light and notices a gritty residue. He also finds it smells a bit like burn vinegar.
Meanwhile, Wallace flies to the door, throwing it open and peering into the sleet filled night. However, he sees no sign of Sergeant Clovesh.
Round Two bold may post
Bosk pulls Ayo in closer, "..you must...f-f-find Bran..dur C-C-Clovesh.." His voice cuts off as he is wracked with spasms.
Wallace
Llorva
Lizbeth
Chorlo
Ayo
Between the foot-traffic and the slush, it is near impossible for the cleric to see which direction the uniformed dwarf traveled.
Lizbeth searches through stacks of reports and Pathfinder Chronicles. Just as she is about to give up hope, her fingers feel a cool round flask.
Ayo pulls a vial off her belt and hurriedly shoves the contents into Bosk's mouth. For a moment, the coughing eases. "Must...warn... Timinic.." The man continues to struggle as he tries to draw air into his lungs.
Llorva continues to be baffled as to how to help.
The desperate man points towards to corner, his voice no more than a hoarse whiisper. "Th..th..thirty six...twenty f-f-four...thir-ty-ty six."
Lizbeth races back with the potion. She pops off the stopper with her thumb as she slides down next to Bosk. She wastes no time pouring the elixir into the venture captains mouth.
His breathing eases and the spasms relent, but only for a moment. His eyes widen in surprise and his body convulses as spongey, green foam erupts from this nose and throat. Eyes roll back into his head as a death-rattle escapes. Venture Captain Istivil Bosk is no more.
An eerie silence settles in the room, the only sound being the occasional crack and hiss from the fireplace.
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Coming back into the room after having lost track of the Sergeant, Wallace slams his fist against the wall. "How could this have happened? We must notify the Society, but who can we trust? Agents, we appear to have walked into a nest of vipers," he declares before moving to the Venture-Captain, closing his eyes and wiping the foam from his face. "He will get the burial his rank has earned and the righteous vengeance his death deserves," he announces before moving to open up the safe.
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"What the? I thought this junk was supposed to help? Not kill the damned fool." She grumbles a bit, then stands up and dusts her hands off. "Dammit."
Lizbeth looks around for a moment then grins. She approaches the safe and spins the dial, 36... 24... 36... Then she checks to see if the combination worked.
"Don't worry, pal," she tells the cleric of Iomedae. "I've got the safe."
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Ayo nods as Wallace closes Bosk's eyes and wipes off his face. She kneels down on the floor and pulls out a piece of paper, a vial of ink, and an inkbrush, laying them out delicately in front of her.
With fluid, dancing brushstrokes, she begins writing:
"He died on duty
He gave his last words to us
So these are for him"
She puts away each of the materials in reverse order, except for the paper, then stands up. She lays the poem down gently on his chest. "A death poem. Shizuru honors your sacrifice."
Without missing a beat, she then continues on to the desk to begin searching.
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At Ayo's mention of 'Shizuru' Lizbeth curls up her lip in distaste. She mutters something quietly to herself, pauses, rolls her one good eye, then mutters something else. It almost seems like she's talking to someone over her shoulder, but the only thing you see there is the handle of a particularly large, Minkaian-styled greatsword that's sheathed upon her back.
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Ayo glares at Lizbeth, saying nothing, but noting to say something later, when the situation is more appropriate.
Ayo makes room for Llorva. She nods gravely as Llorva speaks and responds calm and even, with no hint of irony, speaking to no one in particular. "Each morning--in keeping with the Samurai Code of Ichimeiyo--I meditate on the many ways in which I might meet my inevitable death. I shall add 'poisoned during the briefing' to the list."
DESK ~
Maps and surveys from Timinic’s exploration of the Daggermark sewer complexes cover Bosk’s desk, Llorva notices that these seem to reveal that most of the Pathfinder’s excursions began at the Dripping Wall Distillery. Timinic’s field notes also mention several encounters with suspicious folk lurking in the sewers near the distillery, and include requests to provide extra security for the distillery’s proprietor, Ramyla.
BOSK ~
Chorlo discerns that Bosk died of heart failure after being exposed to a fast-acting poison. He also determines that the poison is dark reaver powder laced with aconite root and other substances to enhance its potency, an intricate and customized recipe that is not available on the market. Aconite root in particular is known for its association with Daggermark’s Poisoner’s Guild.
He goes on to deduce that the foam in Bosk’s lungs emits a far more intense version of the same burnt vinegar odor. Now that things have clamed down, Chorlo realizes that the smell is a common feature of wares from Pemak’s Tinctures, an apothecary that was recently burglarized.
SAFE ~
The safe in Bosk’s office contains reports on Pathfinders who work out of Dryblade House as well as people of interest throughout Daggermark. Due to learning the combination from Bosk, the pair easily access the files within.
The contents reveal that Brandur Clovesh brought the imperiled Pathfinder Timinic to a safe house on the city’s border, though it does not specify where. Timinic’s file also notes that while in hiding, Timinic will recognize those who call themselves “Guardians of the Open Roads” as fellow Pathfinders. Another earmarked dossier tracks the movements of a wanted killer named Cladara, and notes that Cladara’s murders have prompted city-wide investigations, an unusual response to deaths caused by any Assassin’s Guild member in good standing. A third file suggests an apothecary named Pemak may have connections to the Daggermark Poisoner’s Guild.
In addition to the files, the safe contains a bird feather token and a scroll of Share Language.
After a hasty ten minute search, the team is confident they have found everything that could be useful in their investigation.
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"Our path his clear," Wallace declares. "Not only has our late Venture-Captain, may he reset in eternal peace, willed it so, but the files we have found indicate another Pathfinder is at risk! This Timinic was brought to a safehouse by none other than Sergeant Clovesh himself. We should make all haste to find and secure it," he reasons, stowing the files away for safekeeping and later reference.
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"I agree with getting to the safehouse first, once we know that it is "safer?" Chorlo smirks at his own bad joke "We can then go to this Pemak's Tincture and see what we can find out about the poison, it was recently burglarized and this poison is famous for use by the poisoner's guild here in Daggermark."
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"Going to the warehouse is all well and good," Lizbeth remarks, "But all we know is it's on the city's border. You gonna go door to door?"
She cocks her head to the side for a moment, as if listening to something no one else can hear. She hisses something under her breath...
She crosses her arms and says in a normal voice, "The poison was fast acting, so it must have been that dwarf -- Brandur Clovesh. Unless he's also dead a block over. Does anyone know where he lives or works? We should at least check that he hasn't keeled over."
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"No, I don't know where it is, but we can't leave the safety of a fellow agent to chance," Wallace declares. He nods his head in agreement to Ayo's wise words. "Indeed, this scum is clearly of singular cunning and we mustn't allow their task of killing us be easy," he says, as though he were making a challenge to the assassins who would dare to kill him. "As to Sergreant Clovesh... It was not but slush and darkness out there, I could not tell what was and wasn't his tracks. My strengths lie in holy faith and force of arms, however, so please, somebody else try their hand at tracking him."
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"No, I don't know where it is, but we can't leave the safety of a fellow agent to chance," Wallace declares. He nods his head in agreement to Ayo's wise words. "Indeed, this scum is clearly of singular cunning and we mustn't allow their task of killing us be easy," he says, as though he were making a challenge to the assassins who would dare to kill him. "As to Sergreant Clovesh... It was not but slush and darkness out there, I could not tell what was and wasn't his tracks. My strengths lie in holy faith and force of arms, however, so please, somebody else try their hand at tracking him."
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Llovra nods in agreement, I too have focused my studies on the mysterious and mystical ...I would be no help tracking a fugitive.
While Wallace was unable to find a trail through the weather, Ayo's training pays off. She is confident that she can track Clovesh.
As the team moves about town, they learn a few things.
Although Daggermark seems anarchic, the infamous Assassin’s Guild and Poisoner’s Guild wield considerable influence over the city from the shadows. The Guilds’ reputations prevent too much disorder, as locals who threaten
the status quo tend to wind up dead.
Any Daggermark citizen can hire an Assassin’s Guild apprentice once per year for a nominal fee, but members of the city’s military cannot be targeted by these trainee contracts. This rule has led to a high rate of military enlistment.
The Poisoner’s Guild is closely allied with the Assassin’s Guild, though the poisoners’ interests are more academic in nature. Poisoner’s Guild members often serve as contractors, brokering assassinations as a means of testing their newest concoctions. Openly discussing assassinations makes locals jumpy, so Guild contractors use coded language to discuss targets. Guild contacts typically refer to assassins as “specialists” related to whatever job they use as a public front.
Additionally, no one seems to remember seeing a dwarf. However one man does recall a human wearing ill-fitting military garb that looked tailored for a dwarf.
After about ten minutes, you find the tracks lead up to the door of a small cottage. It seems like the neighborhood is fairly quiet. The weather keeping most of the locals indoors.
Any knocks on the door go unanswered, and the drapes are pulled closed.
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"Not a real Dwarf? This diabolical plot thickens by the moment..." Wallace mutters with disgust. "If only the Guardians of the Open Roads were here to let us in," he says loudly, hoping that the dwarf that is not a dwarf might have led them to Timinic's safehouse. If nothing happens, he takes a peek at the door and stands ready to enter.
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Coals smolder in the fireplace of this cozy wooden cottage. The main room is set for company, with two half-empty mugs of ale on the table. A waxy aroma reminiscent of burning vinegar fills the cottage, emanating from the corpse of a dwarf sprawled near the hearth. A crumpled military uniform lies on the floor near a cabinet in the corner. His hand grips a small bottle labeled “In Case of Poison”.
Upon inspection, it is clear that the uniform is still warm from recent use.
The Pathfinders search the cottage.
Wallace finds directions to the safe house located on the outskirts of town.
Chorlo finds a single pearl earring. It is rather nice and you believe the pair would be worth around 40 gold.
Lizbeth finds a list of names written on a piece of paper:
- Sergeant Brandur Clovesh
- Oathbreaker Istivil Bosk
- Ramyla
- Timinic
- Pemak
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Wallace takes a knee by the real Sergeant Clovesh, closing his eyes, cleaning any visible debris, and straightening his body into a more natural resting position. "It has been a day since the man has been murdered and the guard hasn't notice his absence? What an embarrassment. We must inform them at once of this heinous act!" he says while standing again. They can sort out who was shirking their responsibilities in-house.
Looking at the paper, his face twists into a scowl. "A hit list. We must be on the move, it is clear the remaining three are in mortal danger! If anyone has the training, inspect the vial Sergeant Clovesh believed to be his salvation. It may inform us of the nature of this damnable poison."
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Llovra enters the house with concern on her face, She immediately checks the body herself and confirms Wallace's diagnoses of time of death. She cast detect magic to see if any magic was used in this room recently..
After casting the spell and examining anything that detected as having magic or magical residue..Llorva states, I concur with Iomedae's servant, there seems to be a pattern of death here and the list of names could very well be those marked for elimination, since the distillery is the closest..that makes it the next logical place for our assassin to strike. I say we make all haste to this Dripping Wall and warn this Ramyla before it's too late! On the way out of the cottage, Llovra makes sure that the party grabs takes the note earring and uniform with them. She cast a regretful glance at the body of the dead Dwarf, There is nothing we can do for you now..may the good gods receive you as one of their own.
Llovra brokers no non-sense and moves out the door, ushering the others to do likewise; Come now lets pick-up the pace! We're two steps behind our adversary who's already left a couple bodies in their wake...we'll need to move quick to catch this killer before they strike again. We'll summon the authorities to look after poor Bosk, once we've caught up and contained this killer!
At Wallace's request, Chorlo can confirm that both potions used to stave off the poison contained exactly what they were labeled as.
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Wallace looks at his companions in disbelief and shakes his head. Some common brewer over a fellow agent?! Where is their honor? Their sense of camaraderie?! How are we to form a cohesive unit if we put the lives of an unproven stranger over that of our own brothers and sisters?
Whatever reservations he obviously has, he keeps to himself. Iomedae, by your benevolence Timinic will still be breathing strong when we arrive...