Faithe considered the information she knew on ghouls and said, "Then we can probably ignore th places magic doesn't work, I don't think they could exist there given their existance relies on negative energy. I would think the lack of magic would cause them to simply stop or at least weaken them a lot."
Tuco thinks a little, "Mayhaps. Depends on if the magics be permanent or constant. See, it be like if I's got a bucket o' good noble paint, it be nearly permanent. Cheap paint though, it washes off and yous have to keep applyin' it. Sames thing wit' magics 'ere, I ain't goin' in hopin' to use my magic."
Joie stays quiet for now-- and in the carriage. No need to walk around in uniform when Jase's barstool philosopher look was a lot more likely to go unnoticed.
Jase stayed around the others talking about magic stuff for a few seconds, and when it seemed like they were gonna keep chatting about it, the young man excused himself with a grin and strolled over to the carriage and hopped in. He had a mug of ale and a few answers inside of him, so he was quite content at the moment.
He sat opposite the soldier woman, eyeballing her for a moment before suddenly asking, "So what do you think? Is magic like paint over on Skyside? You know, the really ritzy expensive kind? Or maybe the cheap kind...I'm not sure." Still, Jase looked at the woman curiously, wondering what her interpretation of magic paint was.
Faithe considered the information she knew on ghouls and said, "Then we can probably ignore th places magic doesn't work, I don't think they could exist there given their existance relies on negative energy. I would think the lack of magic would cause them to simply stop or at least weaken them a lot."
Daerokh gets an awkward and confused look on his face.
"I'm no mage but...I don't think that's how it works. Yeah, you couldn't CONJURE a ghoul in the no-magic spots, but one that's already up and walking about would still be walking about. Ghoulification's a disease, not a spell, ennit?"
He sat opposite the soldier woman, eyeballing her for a moment before suddenly asking, "So what do you think? Is magic like paint over on Skyside? You know, the really ritzy expensive kind? Or maybe the cheap kind...I'm not sure." Still, Jase looked at the woman curiously, wondering what her interpretation of magic paint was.
Joie looks contemplative. She’s not a dim woman, but her knowledge of the more intricate parts of magic is lacking. Still, making an educated guess...
”I think Daerokh and Tuco are probably right. Or, at the very least, we can’t assume they’re wrong; it would be a tragedy if we discounted something that was very much possible and missed our culprit as a result.”
Tuco takes a seat, "To 'dem Fingers?"
He wonders if his theory about ghouls and anti-magic was right, but thinking too much on it would do no good.
"To 'dem Fingers," Daerokh replies.
Jase sighed in relief as it appeared that all the hard thinking was over and it was time again for action. After a slow carriage trip, that was. Still, they were moving towards their goal, which had the young man excited. Perhaps they would catch the mastermind behind the murders and ensure Jase's (and the others') name was known by all in Alkenstar. From there, it was a short wait until another election came up and he entered himself in the race. The young man was unusually quiet on the way to 'dem Fingers, contemplating his own rise through the political spectrum.
The ride to Graeson's Fingers is bumpy and uncomfortable. It seems the carriage driver has chosen whatever streets he can find that are in dire need of repair. At least the air is cleaner.
Graeson's Fingers come into view as the carriage rounds one last rough corner. With its spiralling towers, air purification devices and grand stone-and-clockwork elevator in the centre of the district, the Fingers is one of Alkenstar City's more affluent and technologically-advanced neighbourhoods. The sound of clicking gears fills the air as the stone elevator in the district's centre brings up a circled wagon train with wide-eyed traders. Throngs of people fill the streets of the Fingers--some of them dressed as workmen, others wearing finely-tailored clothing and smelling of something other than soot and grease.
A large fountain sits within walking distance of the grand elevator, where quite a few of the Fingers' citizens and workers have congregated to gossip and chat.
"Here we are." The carriage driver gets out of his seat and opens the door. "Graeson's Fingers."
Joie steps out of the carriage, tightening her gloves and glancing around.
Anti-Nexian sentiment is either less prevalent or at least quieter in the more well-to-do section of the city. The soldier's eyes remain sharp, however, and she considers.
"Hopefully the challenge of finding our mark isn't as great as subduing him likely will be," she says.
Alorea emerges airily behind Joie, scanning the crowd. "You call it a challenge, I call it a breeze," the sylph quips. She turns to the group at large. "Now remember, keep your eyes and ears open for any clues. We are coordinated. We are alert. We are ready for action! We've got this." She does a little dance and flashes a dazzling smile.
That done, the detective slips into the crowd, making subtle inquiries and listening to the rumors on the wind.
Daerokh fiddles with his pelletbow as they travel.
"We're just supposed to look for the lantern, right?"
Jase gave the driver a scowl as the carriage stopped, refraining from offering a nasty quip about the man's eyesight. Surveying the upscale surroundings, the young man took in the scene for a moment. He envisioned himself living near here in a few years, with the movers and shakers of Alkenstar. But first he had a job to do.
Walking with the others, he could only agree with Joie's assessment. Finding things took time, and Jase wasn't a patient sort. While a ghoul or whatever this guy was supposed to be sounded like bad news, it was at least something that could be brought down with decisive action and skill.
Jase found himself grinning as the optimistic detective gave the group a pep talk before inserting herself into the crowd and trying to engage with some of the locals. Looking back at Daerokh, he nodded. "Yep...one of these folks might already know where it is, though. Be just a minute..." With that, he entered behind the sylph, smiling at any who caught his eye that Alorea had not already questioned and steering them the investigator's way so she could question them. He didn't trust himself to coherently string together an interrogation.
Your investigations start at the gathering of people at the fountain. Whether its your professional bearing, welcoming demeanour or something else, you find that most people here are quite interested in speaking with you. Of course, it takes you a while before you manage to get any useful pieces of information out of them.
Some of the people you ask mistake your interest in a 'Red Lantern' for interest in a... house of ill repute. However, one of the workmen who approaches you has the information you were looking for.
"A red lantern? Not sure why you'd be lookin' for one of those--you don't look like you're in the mining business." He starts. "We use 'em to indicate mines that are either tapped out, dangerous to work in or otherwise off-limits."
"There was one mine illegally opened up about twenty years ago--it was in the northeast corner of the Fingers, close to the wall. Apparently, some idiot noble kid thought his home was built on top of a gold mine, like in Dongun Hold. Idiot broke into a section of the Undercity that almost flooded that part of the district. Found a few precious metals down there, but he wasn't allowed to keep 'em--THAT spiralled into a legal mess for a few years..."
He starts rambling on in this vein. You have the information you need.
The Tailor comes out of the carriage and moves around town for a little. There wasn't much else he could do but he was excited to hear Alorea talk and mingle with those around. He wondered why some people were naturally better at such things and whether or not magic had to do with any of it. Charm is important, and Tuco made a note to contact his Patron about such things.
He waits for the others to come back with the information, steeling himself and checking his gear before they went wherever the red lantern went.
Alorea thanks the man and rejoins the group to relay the information. "Looks like we're going spelunking! And me without a canary..."
"Don't worry. I've got a nose for that kind of thing," Daerokh replies. "Heh. I'll be in my element down there!" he comments with a small smile.
When the willowy investigator stopped making nice with the gentleman and started heading back to where their fellows were, Jase made his way back as well. When Alorea made her comment about the canary, he just grinned unsurely, not sure what made a bird a good companion in a cave system. Maybe it was some PI jargon.
As Daerokh mentioned his aptitude for caverns and such, Jase added, "Well let's get to it, then. Between the two of you, we're bound to find this lovely fellow."
Tuco thought about canaries, "Dun' worry yous little head Alorea. If there's bein' some sort of poison I should smell it before it becomes too dangerous." He puts his hands up and wags them a little, the cloth hanging down, "Cheep cheep."
Joie's eyebrow slowly ascends at Tuco; thinking better of it, she lets it creep back down.
Knowing that she wasn't one for gathering information Faithe stayed with Tuco while the more social members of their party gathered information. She had her scythe standing by the butt of it's haft as she ran a whetstone along the blade and waited for the others to return. The steely rasp had the distinct effect of making any who thought to approach her or the carriage think twice.
Her plan seemed to work but there was one rather bold fellow who approached her anyway. It was a fairly handsome human man who swaggered up to her despite her vicious looking weapon, flipped his hair to one side, and said, "Hey baby, how you doin.".
Faithe simply glared at him as she continued sharpening her scythe, adjusting the angle a bit so it was closer to his face, and tried to stare him down. She hoped it would work but there didn't seem to be any success as the man kept standing there with a cocky smile. It's like he thought if he kept doing the same thing it would get through to her but she was determine not to let him make her respond.
Just as Faithe thought she was going to have to hurt the man the others returned to find her leaning back against the cart with this man standing quite close wwith one hand planted on the side of the carriage as he seemed to be in a staring contest with her. Noticing the others Faithe stopped sharpening her weapon and moved the haft, spinning the blade carefully down and somehow sliding it between his legs.
Faithe carefully raised the blade to press against his crotch with sharp part against the back of his trousers, and moved to the side forcing him to turn as well or be cut. [b"Don't bother me again,"[/b] her voice echoed. With a flourishing twirl as she stepped back her scythe whirled around and slung across her back as she turned to the others ignoring the man behind her.
Hearing them speak of going spelunking Faithe nodded and said, "Alright, hopefully the null magic effect is gone down there," she sighed, "not that I expect it to be." Squaring her shoulders Faithe continued, "At least I'll be able to see well down there." With that she was ready to go while the guy was still standing where she moved him with his eyes bugged out. She wasn't sure but she thought she heard him mumble something along the lines of "Wow, what a woman," and cringed inwardly at what that meant for her future.
Daerokh gapes a bit as Faithe puts the pushy noble pup in his place.
"Remind me never to get on your bad side," he comments as they begin getting ready to descend.
Jase gave Tuco an odd look as the half-orc mimicked a bird, but he couldn't help smiling at the impersonation. Maybe canaries were good poison-sniffers or something...it wasn't anything the young man had studied up on. Although if he was going to move up in politics, it might be useful to have a poison-sniffing bird around. Maybe he could inquire with either the half-orc or the sylph later about the possibilities.
Getting his mind refocused, he witnessed Faithe's confrontation with the leering nobleman with more than a little humor, watching the man dance around the scythe blade as it shifted position upon his more delicate areas. A lesson he'd like keep for at least a short while. As Daerokh remarked upon the fetchling's behavior, Jase gave her an admiring glance and then half-grinned to the dwarf beside him. "I'm not sure she has a bad side, my friend."
The swashbuckler pulled out a pitch-torch from his small pack of belongings, trying to light it up as they prepared to descend. While he wasn't sure how well dwarves, shadow-touched, fey-touched, and orc-bloods saw in the dark, he knew he couldn't see at all.
Daerokh frowns at Jase's flippant reply.
"Don't talk about her like she's not present," he admonishes him.
Once the party starts walking in the direction of the supposed illegal mine, it doesn't take long to find it. Alorea's directions lead them to cut across a side street and a couple of alleys, eventually bringing them to an abandoned two-story building that looks like it used to be a nice place to live.
The once-golden paint on its eaves has faded to a dull yellow, and its double doors look like they're barely hanging on by their hinges. Several first-floor windows have been broken. A placard has been fixed to a wall next to the double doors, reading "CONDEMNED BY ORDER OF NORRIS STEAMCLAW, INSPECTOR FOR THE ALKENSTAR PROPERTY OFFICE."
The glowing light of a red lantern can be seen through one of the broken windows.
Joie observes the building and looks between her companions. "Might not be a bad idea to check the building first," she offers.
Tuco agrees with Joie, "Aye, seems like that be reasonable." He looks about the area, and then puts his nose down to the floor.
Leaning on a knee, his nose wiggles about, "Mmm..."
Alorea nods to Joie. She draws her rapier and approaches the building, peeking into the broken windows.
"Godsdammit, that's sad," Daerokh comments as they approach. "Buildings...they kind of have souls like people do. When they're abandoned like this, you can FEEL its pain."
When Joie suggests scoping the place out, Daerokh nods and begins to take a look around, trying to stay quiet and out of sight. He also looks for signs of activity or if someone...or something...has moved through here recently.
Jase pulled his weapon out after glancing around to see who might be around watching the small group's movements.
Seeing Tuco sniffing about with his keen schnozz and Alorea and Daerokh giving the building a once-over, the young man kept his eyes on the entrance to the former mine, making sure nothing snuck in or out as they patrolled the perimeter.
"Yep, death n' decay alright." He nods his head toward the manor, "In more ways than one yeah Daerokh?" The half-orc looks sad at the dwarf's comment, not really feeling a building's soul but rather the face that the dwarf made he definitely felt. "Yous alls ready to be headin' in?"
"As ready as I'll ever be, Tuco," Daerokh replies. "Just want to make sure we aren't walking into an ambush. Our ghoul might have planned to eat his catspaws once they'd served their purpose."
Alorea's circuit of the house allows her to look inside the house's many broken first-floor windows.
The front hall of the mansion is dusty, but from the fine wood-paneled floor and the faded red velvet rugs stretching from the front doors and throughout the room, it's clear that this mansion used to belong to someone with wealth. The sylph can see what look like disembodied rotting hands picking at the carpets.
The kitchen looks like it has suffered many years of neglect. The grey stone floor is scuffed in several places, and several suspicious rust-coloured stains mar the kitchen's walls. A black cast-iron cauldron sits in a hearth in the room's rounded corner, a decaying mahogany pantry sits in the room's northeastern corner and what appears to be a small trash receptacle sits in the northwest corner next to a faded ivory countertop. A pair of zombies clad in bloodied and tattered rags aimlessly stumble about in the kitchen.
The dining room has a series of tall glass windows that once let natural light shine down upon guests. Now, the room plays host to several zombies clad in clothing that might have once been a delightful wardrobe of silks, cravats, shirts, skirts and breeches--reduced to little more than rags. The once-immaculate marble floor of the dining room has trails of filthy footprints tracked all over it from the wandering undead. The large dining table appears to have weathered the passing of ages better than the dilapidated dining chairs around it.
The sitting room has a few dusty old paintings of pastoral landscapes decorating its walls--they might fetch a decent price if they were taken. A pair of zombies sit in moth-eaten lounge chairs around a coffee table with a chessboard on it. Other, smaller chairs can be seen in the room's corners.
The library has several bookshelves that still have a few old books stored in them. Three zombies totter about in the room--one of them has a stack of books in its arms.
Alorea relays what she has seen to the others. "There are many restless dead roaming about. Be ready to fight."
The sylph brandishes her rapier.
Joie stiffens, bringing her dan bong into her hand. "Strange that they'd stay in this house, unless the doors are locked. Regardless... are we ready?"
Jase grimaced at Alorea's information as he rejoined the group after having assessed they weren't being watched. "Lovely." The young man unsheathed his weapon and stood at the ready, resisting the urge to swipe it around a few times. These folks weren't likely to be awed at his martial prowess, and he was a bit nervous, as well, so he was just as likely to drop the thing.
Jase did inch his way towards the front of the group, however, happily getting as close to the lead as possible without stepping on any toes, figuratively or literally.
Tuco takes the strips of cloth and the whip and with a motion pulls it out, the coil going around his arm. "I'd hate to scorch the place so I'll be wary of my use of magic here."
On the way to their destination Faithe felt it when the magic returned to the area. It was a relief for her given it's inherent tie to her existence and she once more felt whole. As she looked at looked at the place they were entering and listened to what Alorea had to say Faithe eyed it with distaste. She'd seen worse but it wasn't often and going in there wasn't going to be fun. Unslinging her scythe Faithe focused a moment as she struck the haft of her scythe on the ground. Bones rose from the ground of all shapes and sizes and began to cling to her body in a sort of form fitting armor. It wasn't any less revealing than her normal garments but was sturdy and would protect her from harm. Faithe looked at Alorea and said, "This is why I am called Lady Bones." Adjusting her grip on her scythe so it was ready Faithe said, "I'm as ready as I'll ever be."
Daerokh makes a surprised grimace at Faithe's summoned armor.
"Where'd those...come from? Someone's ancestors may want a word with you..."
Jase's eyebrows raised up as the shapely fetchling conjured up bones to cover her nethers with sturdier fare. What an interesting group he had found himself in. He pinched himself to make sure he wasn't imagining all of this in a drunken stupor, but all he got was a bit of pain and a red spot near his wrist.
As Daerokh mentioned ancestors, the young man only then realizing that the bones might actually belong to someone. Maybe they had volunteered for afterlife protection duty or something...Jase didn't know enough about that sort of thing. Quickly growing bored and practically writhing with nervous energy, he asked, "We evicting all these freaking squatters or what, people?
If no one made any move to enter or strategize, Jase would give the front entry portal a once-over, then enter if he found nothing amiss.
Joie can’t help but regard Faithe’s bones with a hint of trepidation. An affiliation with necromantic magic was hardly a positive, in her sturdy eyes.
”Let’s split up to flank them—me and three others will kick down the door and two will enter through the window. We’ll catch them between us,” she states.
Before Tuco has a chance to respond to Joie he sees Jase eye the front door, "I think he be ahead of yous Joie." He charges up a positive blast of energy in his off hand, "I's cover the smaller group, an' wes has Faithe be wit' the larger. Don' be splittin' us up toos much yeah?"
He starts toward the window, "Who comin' wit?"