Magnimar. Heidmarch mansion. Venture-Captain Sheila Heidmarch summoned you here with little warning, and most of you are familiar with her manipulative demeanor.
Sometimes she’s late to her own meeting. Luckily her husband, Venture-Captain Canayven Heidmarch, offered you some brunch while you wait.
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Upon entering and seeing the food laid out before him, Friar Robun moves quickly through the introductions and greetings with the Venture-Captain before finding himself a seat at a spot furthest from where he suspects the others will sit, and begins enjoying himself thoroughly.
As his fellow Pathfinders enter, he will nod courteously to them and introduce himself simply. "Good day and the Dawnflower shine upon you! I am Friar Robun. Excuse me."
Despite his distance, the smell that seems to emanate from him--like rot and disease mixed with overwhelming cologne to cover it up--makes it somewhat more difficult for you to enjoy the meal.
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A swarthy young Varisian man, 5'10" tall and 155 lbs. enters Heidmarch Manor. He has thick black hair and twinkling green eyes. He favors flamboyant Sczarni attire, vivid colors and prominent jewelry. The enchanted starmetal rapier at his side is well-maintained. His mithral chain shirt and buckler are almost as bright as his smile.
"Howdy, Cap'n." The bravo delivers a casual, perfunctory salute to Canayven Heidmarch and heads for the table, sampling a couple of lite morsels.
"Greetings, friend. Gitano Frallino, at your service. Desna, too, smiles on us and our venture."
Then his nose wrinkles at the scent of the oracle, and he moves to a safer spot upwind. "A man can't be too careful, where he puts his head at night. If you're looking for ladies who bathe regularly, I can give you a couple names."
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Robun booms out a deep laugh at Gitano's offer, "Harhar! Oh no, friend, this ambiance is the doing of no lady but the Dawnflower herself! For even as she made me a fount of life unto others on her behalf, she took somewhat from my body the freshness of life. Forgive me my curse, and I will be a blessing for you, should the worse come to pass and we wage into...ehh...b-b-battle." Even as the thought of battle comes to him, the boisterous monk seems to withdraw and shrivel with fright. This is no warrior monk!
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A 6'2", 200# Ulfen male walks into the room, scans it quickly, and finds a neutral corner to stand in. Although the Cold Iron Morningstar hanging from his hip and his Mithral chain shirt is obvious, everyone can feel the pale, cool mist that constantly clings to his body. "Greetings to all. I am called Glorne."
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A heavily armored, clean-cut man steps in. How much he weighs is hard to tell beneath his full plate. He's strikingly handsome anyway, his hair kept short and parted to one side. A strong jawline fills out his face. There's a certain permanent sadness to his eyes, but it's hard to place. On his armor is a massive carved insignia of a bastard sword overlaying a single wing.
"And I suppose even the General of Vegeance smiles upon us," Serge grins. "Well met, friends. I am Serge Foxmourn, Paladin of Ragathiel," he smiles. "Glorne, is it? Hmm. I cannot help but feel a chill when I shake your hand. Is that magic? It is most unusual."
Serge carefully unfolds a napkin as he takes a seat and begins passing around the bowl of scones.
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A bald man of Chelish decent heads in with a smile, looking around at the office's decor "So this is Magnimar... looks far nicer than Father always said." He adjusts his scabbard and takes a seat next to Serge and introduces himself to everyone.
"Good morning fellows! My name is Hanlin Ciderbrow, Junior." He adds in the Junior as mostly an after thought. "I must admit, this is my first time in this sizeable city. The stories don't do it justice." He stands and reaches to shake hands with everyone, smiling and nodding to each with a firm handshake. Dangling from his neck is a silver holy symbol of Iomedae. Across his chest is a mithril breast plate.
"Pass those biscuits Rags, I'm starved."
As you scarf down the buffet, the sound of footsteps echoes down the hallway outside of Heidmarch Manor’s cozy dining room. Venture-Captain Canayven Heidmarch sets down his fork and rises from his chair by the hearth. The stern Venture-Captain’s eyes brighten a bit as he says, “Sheila’s footsteps.” Moments later, the door to the dining room swings open, and Venture- Captain Sheila Heidmarch enters the room, taking a seat at the head of the table opposite the hearth. Canayven pours her a cup of hot tea as he addresses her, “Welcome back. The Pathfinder agents you requested have been fed and are ready for their briefing.”
“Splendid,” Sheila replies as she sets a folded piece of parchment down on the table. She smiles and gracefully takes a small sip of the steaming tea, savoring the flavor. “Thank you, Canayven. And Pathfinders, thank you all for coming to Magnimar on such short notice. I’ve specifically requested your presence here because I believe that you’re uniquely suited to helping the city of Magnimar with a problem that seems to be spreading in recent weeks.”
”As you’re likely aware, Magnimar is known across the Inner Sea region as the City of Monuments for the dozens of monuments within city itself and the surrounding region. These monuments are well known for their sacred properties—performing any number of respectful acts at their bases provides a pilgrim with a minor boon. Adventurers and mystery cultists by the droves make pilgrimages to Magnimar for a chance to experience the touch of the divine. But recently, something appears to have changed with several of these structures.”
She takes another long sip of tea. “A friend of mine in the Varisian Council, one of Magnimar’s governing bodies, has alerted me that several key monuments— namely, the Mistress of Angels in Ordellia, the Founder’s Flame in Naos, and the Cenotaph in the Capital District—have all been sites of strange supernatural occurrences ranging from eerie wailing and spectral lights to magical conflagrations. Lord-Mayor Grobaras appointed a sleuth specializing in the supernatural, a man named Theodorus Ichonvarde, to investigate. However, my contact reports that Ichonvarde’s attempts have borne little fruit thus far, and the council has accused Theodorus of badgering Varisian witnesses. Moreover, several innocents have been harmed in the occurrences at the Founder’s Flame. The implication that someone—or something—has tampered with Magnimar’s legacy leads me to believe that this is a case best suited to our interests and your abilities.”
Sheila picks up the folded piece of parchment next to her teacup, “I’ve secured an official writ from the Varisian Council to grant you legal permission to investigate. If you’re willing to help Magnimar, I can also lend you some supplies. Consider them part of your compensation, upon success.”
A DECREE BY THE VARISIAN COUNCIL AND ITS RIGHT AND HONORABLE SPEAKER, HASTOFF MARAMEZ.
To the Honorable Lady Sheila Heidmarch, Venture-Captain of the Pathfinder Society:
Whereas, by this Council’s commission, under the seal of Magnimar bearing this day’s date, the 26th of Rova in the year 4718 by Absalom Reckoning and 110th year since the Founding, do appoint and charge Lady Sheila Heidmarch as Executor of the Council’s law and do authorize her and require her to go forth, with any deputies she shall see fit to appoint, and investigate the occult happenings of Magnimar’s monuments or any structure or property deemed associated with these occurrences. Lady Heidmarch and her deputies shall possess the full force and authority to act in this manner, including and limited to the following: search any monument or public property housing a monument, to question witnesses who are amenable to serving their fair city, and to detain any persons found to be engaged in the defilement of our city’s beloved legacy.
Signed and warranted this day by Remeria Callinova, Leader of the Council
Canayven adds, “Davorge. If anyone would know what’s been going in the district of Ordellia, it’d be him. He’s a mystery cultist. He’s also an expert in supernatural matters, particularly those tied to Ordellia. Look for him in the tavern next to the Rose and Rake Theatre. He eats lunch there often. If he’s not there when you arrive, you might find someone who knows where to find him.”
Most monuments can grant a unique boon to those who pray before them.
founders. Originally designed as an empty tomb, residents of Magnimar pay significant sums of money to be entombed near or within the Cenotaph, as doing so is seen as a postmortem status symbol.
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When the cold, clammy Ulfen enters the room and heads for a chair in the corner, Gitano returns his terse greeting. "Hiya, Groot." My, this guy's a tall glass of water. 'Still waters run deep', some say.
Gitano flashes a smile at Serge when he enters the room. "Glad to meet you, Serge. I'm Gitano Frallino, the Luckiest Man Alive." Holy symbol of Ragathiel, the empyreal lord of vengeance. Barrel of laughs, I'm sure. "You can rub my belly for good luck."
"Who you calling 'Junior', Hanlin Ciderbrow?" Gitano asks in jest. Priest of Iomedae, eh? Even so, a man who loves biscuits can't be all hellfire and brimstone.
Gitano rises when Shiela Heidmarch makes her entrance. "Hello, hello! How you doin'?" He makes to kiss her hand, but he backs off with a wink, when he notices Canayven's jealous glare.
He listens intently to her mission briefing.
"Ah, Magnimar, the City of Monuments. As its moniker implies, Magnimar is home to dozens of monuments, typically erected to honor Magnimarian deities, folk heroes, and historic events. Most monuments can grant a unique boon to those who pray before them."
He considers some of those monuments he's heard of. "I don't know anything about the Cenotaph or the Founder's Flame, but The Mistress of Angels is in Ordellia, a district located on an island on the Yondabakari River. It was built in honor of Ordellia Whilwren, one of Magnimar’s most beloved founders, just outside of her former townhouse. The Mistress of Angels was erected following Ordellia’s murder several years after Magnimar’s founding. In the years since, countless locals claim to have seen Ordellia’s ghost, who has a reputation for helping the meek and persecuted throughout the Ordellia District."
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Lots of names. All that investigator and bardic training's finally paying off. Gitano's eyebrows rise in surprise at the Venture-Captain's unusual largesse. He puts the potion of cure serious wounds in his handy haversack. He points to the potions of protection from evil and the three oils of magic weapon. "Mind if I hold on to one of each of these?"
Gitano listens with interest, taking copious mental notes, as Glorne shares what he knows about the Cenotaph and the Founder's Flame.
'The Founder’s Flame is in Naos, home to many of Magnimar’s prosperous merchants. Erected by Antholus Kaddren shortly after the city’s founding, the monument is said to sport a constant halo of multicolored fire. The Founder’s Flame’s truest marvel lies not within its impressive pyroclastic displays, but in its endless supply of fuel. The monument stays ablaze via a mysterious green oil that never seems to deteriorate or deplete and is capable of creating flames in a scintillating array of colors.'
'The Cenotaph is a memorial to Alcaydian Indros, one of Magnimar’s founders. Originally designed as an empty tomb, residents of Magnimar pay significant sums of money to be entombed near or within the Cenotaph, as doing so is seen as a postmortem status symbol. Countless famous personalities have been entombed within the Cenotaph. While under the official care of the Church of Pharasma, its catacombs are open to the public. Over the past few years, Sheila Heidmarch has been entombing fallen Pathfinder agents from all walks of life in the Cenotaph out of respect for their sacrifices, to the displeasure of some local elites.'
"Cap'n Sheila. May I call you Sheila? You said that recently, something appears to have changed with several of the monuments, supernatural occurrences ranging from eerie wailing and spectral lights to magical conflagrations. Can you be more specific?"
The Varisian rubs his wayfinder. "From what Glorne's told us, it seems some of Magnimar's elites don't much care for the Pathfinder Society. The council's writ grants us official sanction for our investigation. Should we keep our affiliation with the Society close-hold?"
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It is so good to be home...
Serge smiles at Sheila Heidmarch, her voice heard muffled behind the thick of his thoughts. It hadn't occurred to him that he had spent so much time away from Magnimar, where he had first announced his service to the empyreal lord.
He listened closely to both Glorne and Gitano's wealth of knowledge regarding the monuments, and nodded at Gitano's request to hang on to a few of the items. "One of these oils may also benefit my blade," he adds. "And the potion may help me better defend everyone else."
"Entombing fallen Pathfinders under the Centopathic catacombs. A tribute worthy of a Pathfinder," Serge nods at Sheila. "These local elites need a stern talking to. While they sit in their mansions sipping their finest tea, dozens of us Pathfinders are risking limbs and lives searching for knowledge, potentially for their benefit." He scoffs.
"This ... mystery cultist, Davorge. What more do you know about him, Venture-Captain Canayven?"
The Varisian rubs his wayfinder. "From what Glorne's told us, it seems some of Magnimar's elites don't much care for the Pathfinder Society. The council's writ grants us official sanction for our investigation. Should we keep our affiliation with the Society close-hold?"
Canayven keeps his eye on the Varisian. "No one will react negatively to your affiliation with the Pathfinder Society. But no one will react positively either."
“You’ve been deputized by the Varisian Council, and that will be enough to earn at least a measure of cooperation from the average citizen. That being said, the lord-mayor has officially cast his lot with Theodorus, and as a result there’s the possibility that some authorities might not recognize you as an official legal presence in the matter.”
"This ... mystery cultist, Davorge. What more do you know about him, Venture-Captain Canayven?"
“Davorge goes by the title of mystery cultist around here: A follower of the empyreal lords who watch over Magnimar. He's private about matters of faith, but he is also trustworthy.”
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"Do we report to you, Cap'n, or directly to Leader of the Council Remeria Callinova?" Gitano asks Sheila Heidmarch.
"Looks like we've got a couple of good leads. If we start with the Mistress of Angels, we could have lunch with the mystery cultist Davorge in the tavern next to the Rose and Rake Theatre in Ordellia."
"Might be a good idea to meet with Lord-Mayor Grobaras's appointed sleuth, Theodorus Ichonvarde, too. Get an idea about what he's learned so far." Unsure if that's a good idea, he asks Sheila Heidmarch, "What do you think, Cap'n?"
"You report to the Pathfinder Society, of course." Sheila smiles, glad to remind you of her authority.
"Either will be a good start, but Theodorus Ichonvarde is investigating. I'm not sure where he is at the moment. Davorge, meanwhile is always spending his time near the Rose and Rake Theatre."
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Hanlin eats till he is full, enjoying the company of the others and being an all around fun man to be around, despite what you may have heard about other priests of Iomedae. "Did you hear the one about the priestess and the priest of Azmodeus? Every night before bed they'd have to call in a devil to write up a contract for the night's 'activities' before blowing out the candle!" He follows that up with a series of slightly crude hand gestures and hip thrusts with some corresponding finger waggles.
As Sheila comes in though his demeanor changes to a much more serious and socially acceptable tone. He rises from his seat to introduce himself "Hanlin Ciderbrow at your service Lady Heidmarch." He nods respectfully and returns to his seat, his face back to business.
As the others recount what they know of the monuments he nods his head in agreement with what he's heard about them in the past. A man such as he has always had a good working relationship with others.
Once the supplies are handed out he smiles as the others begin to claim items. He pocket's his own healing draught and nods "Iomedae grants me her blessings that these items duplicate, I can make due without them." He also has a light shield across his back, making the spear an unlikely choice as well.
"I would prefer to do a bit of our own discovery before we try speaking with the 'sleuth' that was hired. We shouldn't let his findings cloud our own judgements in case there is some differences. Let's take a quick look at the Mistress of Angels and then head for some lunch." He says in agreement with Gitano.
Finally he reads through the writ provided and smirks a bit to himself Since when has the Society ever gained prior permission for these acts? Are they turning over a new leaf in this distant city?
The town of Ordellia lies on the opposite side of Magnimar, but it isn’t too hard to find the Rose and Rake Theater once you arrive. The open-air playhouse hosts town hall meetings and other large gatherings. To the side of the theater is a tavern known for its waitstaff uniforms: slick and well trimmed. Informally people call it the Rose and Rake Tavern, but the town still hasn’t approved of the name.
Not too far from the Theater you see a small crowd has gathered in front of the Mistress of Angels, a marble statue of a Chelaxian woman with flowing hair and plain clothing. The statue carries a butterfly emblem in her right hand and a starknife in her left, and her eyes stare out over the sea to the north. Behind the statue is a large wooden townhouse. A brass plaque labeled “Ordellia’s Townhouse” marks the building’s southernmost entrance.
One man is interrogating five people. A Chelaxian woman and her Varisian friend, holding hands. A Chelaxian man, bored out of his mind. A young Varisian man about to cry with anxiety, and a Varisian dancer glaring at a sundial and tapping her feet.
The man pacing around them, asking questions is none other than Inspector Theodorus Ichonvarde. When you approach, he pauses exactly long enough to turn to you. ”What are you doing here?” He sneers. ”This is an official investigation- I can’t have civilians interfering with my work. You may speak to your friends once I’m done with them.” He turns back to the five people.
"Pathfinder Society. I've heard of you. Always poking your head in where they aren't welcome." He pauses again, this time to turn to you. "Lord-Mayor Grobaras appointed me specifically to carry this investigation. You can wait for my full report afterwards, unless he appointed you to this case. Which I doubt."
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Hanlin walks along with the group, enjoying the sights and sounds of this fine city. "Monuments that bestow boons on the faithful. This should be interesting. I can see why they are worried. I can imagine many would make the trip to the city to visit them, and open their wallets while they are here.."
As he approaches the Tavern and then the statue, he sets back a bit to see how the others handle things. So far they've been pleasant to speak with and with one being a paladin he expected they would be taking the high road at every opportunity. For following the God of vengeance he speaks well, as does the rake... We should have little trouble convincing the locals in cooperating.
Upon hearing the responses from the 'sleuth', he quickly changes his own thoughts on the matter. No wonder that guy hasn't gotten anywhere, he's a dick!
"Perhaps you wouldn't mind letting us at least listen in on the testimonies of these fine, and BUSY individuals so they can get back to their appointments?" He nods at the dancer with a place to be and a time to be there.
He looks at the writ, looks at you, looks at the writ again, looks at you, and sighs. ”Ah, so you’re here to take my case. Fine.” He looks to the five witnesses and tells them. ”I’m not done. Wait here.” He leads you about ten paces away from them.
”Do you want a general timetable? The Mistress of Angels changed about 2 weeks ago. Townsfolk say it is haunted now. The Founder’s Flame had similar issues about 1 week ago, and then the Cenotaph 4 days ago. I’m certain you know the rest.”
"But since you all asked so nicely..." He grins. "I have seen evidence of vampire attacks. Bloodless bodies with puncture wounds in their necks. I am certain these vampires are using the monuments to disturb the peace. Some of these citizens are blocking my investigation. Maybe they don't understand the concept of law."
Hanlin believes Theodorous is not trying to lie. It's obvious he doesn't want you butting in on his case, but he will respectfully cooperate.
”Of course, you may try to interrogate the witnesses I found here.” He turns back to them. ”I know their names and their alibis for being here, although those may be fabricated lies.”
Vonysa, the Varisian with curly raven hair, brown skin and dichromatic eyes simply sighs. She hasn’t said a word or moved since you’ve seen her.
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"We're not interested in taking over your investigation. But perhaps we can help one another." Gitano considers what Theodorus Ichonvarde has to say. Hmm...
Can't hurt to talk to these people ourselves. Gitano uses his own considerable charms to help the very persuasive Glorne interview the witnesses. Hiya, folks, relax. We've just got a few questions we'd like to ask. We appreciate your cooperation."
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Serge shudders at the thought of vampires. "Vam... pires. I have never seen one before, and I was hoping I never would have to." He looks down at the insignia on his armor. "My thanks, Inspector."
Serge approaches Kysu Xitan, but finds Glorne there first. "It is most amazing, but it seems Glorne is good with the locals even in his silence," Serge looks on at the hydrokineticist who must be pantomiming or gesturing - something - to be able to gather information. He looks on at the Varisian man, Kysu, and his groceries. "I understand you are very busy, but we are trying to solve this mystery. What can you tell us about The Mistress of Angels, and the other monuments? Had you seen anything out of the ordinary?"
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Hanlin introduces himself to the inspector with a handshake and a smile "Sounds like you've done quite a bit of leg work here, good work. We'll see if we can't help get these witnesses to come around."
Divide and conquer? Works for me. As Serge approaches the man with groceries, Hanlin focuses his efforts on the woman dancer. "A professional dancer? We'd love to see a quick rendition of your routine. It'll go a long way in getting you on your way faster I'll bet."
Hanlin even offers to set a beat for the woman with some clapping. This could be a waste of time or maybe give us a clue... Let's see if she actually does know anything about those religious realms...
Glorne takes a look around the area. Besides Theodorous and the witnesses, people are keeping their distance from the event.
He notices the inspector's sneers at Vonysa, Kysu, Ysandre and even Gitano, muttering something under his breath about lawlessness. Seems like he has a problem with those of Varisian descent.
Hanlin moves up to Ysandre Glitterwing and chats with her about Desnan dancing. "Oh my, aren't you the charming young man. Much better than that stuffy Inspector. Do you know about the Wandering Minstrel? It's a dance about a drunk bard who wanders out of town into a monster lair. Guided by Desna, he avoids danger and stumbles upon a priceless artifact. Which he then throws into a lake because he's too drunk to recognize it! Haha!"
Hanlin remembers that tale and recites it as she dances to the beat. She knows her religious stuff, that's for sure.
"That was almost worth being late for class. I don't know how long you're staying in Ordellia, but feel free to drop by the dance hall when you get the chance." She winks at the cleric. "But let's talk about what I know about this statue."
"After my last performance at the Rose and Rake, I spotted a group in dark cloaks headed west away from the Mistress of Angels. There was a faint smell of decay in the air as they passed, like rotting vegetation. Out of curiosity I took a look, only to find it marred with some sort of strange graffiti that reminded me of the Thassilonian runes that have been appearing in museums over the past decade. I think, I never really experienced Thassilonian lore." She chuckles.
"Whatever the runes did, they seemed to have reversed the monument’s blessings. Instead of invigorating the heart, they now seem to fill it with doubt and indecision."
"And last night, I saw the ghostly visage of Ordellia Whilwren appear before her at the theatre. The ghost is an uncommon sight around the city, but she seemed distant, terrified, and desperate for help. Ordellia left abruptly without saying anything—an unusual occurrence."
"I'll let you finish your job here. But do come by later, handsome." She chuckles and leaves.
Hanlin feels pretty confident she said everything she knew truthfully.
Glorne eventually decides it's quiet enough to approach Eylvian and Vonysa Ameluri. Eylvian notices him immediately. "Oh, what's this, Thedorous? Sending one of your goons after us, now? My cousin is going to sue all of you, you know! Nothing you can say will make this any more pleasant."
Glorne takes the advice literally and just stares.
She stares back.
They lock eyes.
Eylvian gives up first, exasperated. "I... I forgot what I was saying before. Vonysa, a little help?"
Vonysa chuckles and squeezes her partner's hand. "Mister, if we tell you everything we know, will you let us go? Eylvian gets so wound up sometimes I can't get a word in."
Eylvian pipes up. "W-well, I was about to tell him what we saw, dear. We were on their way home from a theatre performance staged by a local dancer when we decided to ask for a blessing at the Mistress of Angels on their way back to the inn. We saw a group of shady individuals in black garb gathering around the monument."
"They were drawing something in chalk around the monument. We wanted to avoid trouble, so we moved quickly and pretended to see nothing."
Vonysa finishes up. "Each cultist wore something around their neck - some sort of unholy symbol. It was an image of a faintly glowing skull."
Vonysa shrugs. "That's about all we know. More people need to realize silence is golden. See you later." The couple walk away.
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Hanlin smiles at the woman as she flirts with him, nodding in thanks at the information. "You can count on it. Great dance, you've really got the hips for it." He playfully swats her on the caboose when she heads off, adding in an easy to read wink. Let's get this shindig finished, I've got some REAL work to do later!
He stands there and smiles to himself a bit until he hears something about a skull shaped holy symbol.
"Hrm, I've heard of that symbol before." See Father? I did pay attention in some of your lectures!
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Gitano's ears perk up when Ysandre Glitterwing mentions Thassilonian runes. He smiles at the dancer, and sketches Desna's butterfly wings in the air between them.
"I'm a performer myself, m'lady, though an orator, not a dancer."
The bard points to the Mistress of Angels. "Can you show me where you saw the Thassilonian runes? I speak the ancient language, and I might be able to decipher what was written there."
"Well, the statue itself holds an image of a butterfly, lined with stars." Ysandre answers. "But the stars now look more like skulls.."
He looks on at the Varisian man, Kysu, and his groceries. `"I understand you are very busy, but we are trying to solve this mystery. What can you tell us about The Mistress of Angels, and the other monuments? Had you seen anything out of the ordinary?"
Kysu readjusts the grip on his bags. "Well, thanks for not breathing down my neck, unlike the Inspector. Ahem. This is what I know."
"I noticed a group of cloaked individuals chasing what looked like a blue-skinned human with magnificent butterfly wings through the streets. I... I quickly hid in a nearby alley, I didn't want to get caught."
"I know... a little bit of the celestial tongue. The winged man calling out for Ordellia Whilwren as he fled through the streets. I don't know what business a butterfly man would have with the town’s ghostly guardian though."
"Oh wait. I recognize the butterfly man’s appearance. I once saw a tapestry that depicts three people who look like him dancing in a swamp along a riverbank."
Kysu shrugs. "That's all I know. Can I... go now?"
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Gitano points to Havaroc Tharvius, the Chelaxian man sitting on the ground, his hands gray with clay and looking more tired than anything.
"Friar Robun and Hanlin, can you try talking to Havaroc? The rest of us haven't had much luck with that one. Said he works at Magnimar’s Golemworks. Said his hands are aching and he's tired."
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Hanlin nods, still a bit slack jawed as he watches the woman leave "Yup, no problem. Friar, let's help the man out, but please do keep downwind." Hanlin then grants himself a small boon from his Goddess, allowing him to interact better with others.
Seeing the man's discomfort Hanlin offers to summon in some water to help him clean up "Your hands are sore. Perhaps if you let me I can bestow some of Iomedae's gifts on you to help?"
If allowed, Hanlin will detect him for poison, then if that is all clear he'll try healing him with his wand of cure light wounds, hoping it clears any minor aches and pains. "So what do you do at the Golemworks if you don't mind me asking?" He says as he makes small talk as he works.
Touch of Glory (Sp): (6x/day) You can cause your hand to shimmer with divine radiance, allowing you to touch a creature as a standard action and give it a bonus equal to your cleric level on a single Charisma-based skill check or Charisma ability check. This ability lasts for 1 hour or until the creature touched elects to apply the bonus to a roll. You can use this ability to grant the bonus a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
Haravoc sighs as Hanlin begins the sweet talk. "I'm just tired, man. Some rest and my hands will be good as new. I don't need healing magic for that." He waves away the wand and continues to be grumpy. "But you're not gonna give up, huh? I'll tell you what I know."
" So I work an overnight shift at the Golemworks twice a week. I was on my way to work when I saw the crime. Strange people wearing heavy cloaks and some sort of glowing necklaces."
"I called out to the shady group. Hey! What are you doing loitering in a place like the Ordellia’s Townhouse? Someone—the leader, I gess— responded angrily, speaking Common but with an accent I'm not familiar with."
"Then the leader mumbled something about finding someone named Looney Vire.” He shrugs.
"That's all I know."
You converse with the witnesses and know this is all the information you can get from them.
Theodorous quietly responds "Fine, go. My investigation is complete." He bitterly bites down on the last word. Turning to you, he barely hides his contempt. "Good job, Pathfinders. I have my own leads to investigate, but it will take a while. Busy paperwork and all that. It's best I do it alone."
"Feel free to investigate the statue, or... waste time at the tavern. That's what people tend to do around here." He spins on the heels of his shoes and leaves without another word.
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"Ya man, have a good one, thanks for your patience." He starts to offer a handshake then pulls it back considering the man's pain.
Once the witnesses have cleared out he gets back to the discussion with the others. "Not sure how useful that last fella's info is, sounds like he misheard that name. How about we finally take a look at that statue then maybe grab some lunch?"
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Though he didn't get any helpful response from Ysandre Glitterwing, Gitano saunters over to the Mistress of Angels. He mutters a cantrip, examining the statue through a small crystal he pulls from his spell component pouch, looking for any magical auras.
Then he examines any trace of the Thassilonian runes the woman mentioned.
You find the monument depicting the founder Ordellia Whilwren. It’s time to investigate. Gitano realizes those aren't Thassilonian runes. There is some faint profane magic around the statue, but he's not sure about the details. Maybe it's a ritual?
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Hanlin lets the other 'sleuth' go without a word, he's dealt with his type plenty as a cleric of Iomedea. Far too many religious zealots behind a sword but without a word of compassion for the common folk.
"Let's see what we can't find here that makes any sense eh? Hrm...." He looks around a bit at the runes and writings.
It doesn't take long for Hanlin to give up "Ya... I'm stumped. Any ideas Gitano? Are they Thassilonian?"