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The ifrit picks up one of the pans. "This looks like that cream sauce you made to compliment the day Karlos caught that tuna. That was close to three weeks ago. I really don't believe much of anything has been scrubbed or cleaned since we left Absalom. Look, you don't need to try and deceive us. We are looking to find out what really happened. What were you really doing last night. You can trust us."
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Willow almost drops her knife, and that’s saying something. I really didn’t need to know that. Though I guess it explains a few things. She reconsiders how useful some of the parlour-trick cantrips that she's slowly working her way towards learning might really be.
Concentrating on the task at hand, she adds, as kindly as she can, “Better you hear it from us than some of the crew. We know it’s hard, but you can tell us anything. We won’t gossip, and maybe we can help.”
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Shira stops mid-slice at Azora's accusation. She is about to sputter a response, but Willow and Karlos interject. Shira waves her cutlery angrily in a wispy figure eight in front of her. "Calling me a liar then?" She only relents after realizing the immense mess around her. Fine! Maybe I wasn't burning the midnight oil cleaning and slaving away for you ungrateful bunch. Fact is, I didn't see anything as... I... was... asleep." She punctuates each word with clear anger. "The mwangi woke me up and I was still so groggy when we pulled up to the elf's door, I can't be sure I still wasn't dreaming. The long and short of it is --- go bother someone else. I can't exonerate you, or anyone else for that matter."
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That escalated quickly. The flippant thought flashes through Willow’s head irresistibly, all the more so because of how true it is, even by the standards of a woman who’s sometimes had to struggle to keep her own temper in check: such as at the moment, for instance.
“Enough!” she snaps. “Could we try not to kill any more of one another tonight?”
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Nino takes no time to bring his greatsword down on the belligerent cook. The force of the blow knocks her into the table and Karlos and William cannot connect as easily with their swings. Azora and Conig step back from the fight for the moment. Willow tries to force a less violent ending with a careful strike of her pommel.
Enraged, the dwarf draws her own axe and lashes out at Nino. He dodges the swing and she takes a careful step back until she hits the main mast.
Nino
Karlos
Azora
William
Conig
Tasarë "Willow"
Shira Acidaxe -18 damage (4 is Non-Lethal)
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Seeing Shira turn at bay after taking a swing at Nino rather than try to bull her way through to where she could cause considerably more trouble, Willow pointedly sheathes her dagger even as the warpriest levels another brutal strike – though this time at least with the flat of his blade.
The elf holds her hands up cautiously where she hopes she’s at least risk of getting any fingers lopped off by an errant swing on either side.
“Everyone, stop this before it’s too late! Whoever’s lurking out there would kill themselves laughing right now!” And not like in some of the stories they tell in Omesta, either. Of all the gormless Gorumite things… She tries not to judge other people’s religious convictions too harshly, and as at least a partial Calistrian, Willow’s somewhat sympathetic to a … vigorous self-defense, but the Savoured Sting also enjoins some style and subtlety. She tries to catch Azora’s eye, as if to ask, silently, if there’s any hope of magic to patch the bloody mess up once everyone settles down.
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Nino twists his wrist to turn his sword so as not to kill the dwarf, but still lands a massive blow that drops her to the ground. As she hits the deck, her cloak falls open to reveal a bandoleer of potions and extracts...and bombs?
Shira Acidaxe -31 damage (17 is Non-Lethal)
The door to the crew cabin soon opens and Killik peers around the door frame. "What's all this racket?" quickly followed by an "Oh my."
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“Everyone’s on edge or over it, right now,” Willow agrees, joining the effort to smooth things over. “It came to words about heritage, and then got worse. I’m only glad that we were able to stop things before they went any further than they did.”
“Um, incidentally, we were planning on talking to you next in any case.” She tries her best to look abashed and ingenuous, but it's harder to pull that off standing next to a man with a bloody greatsword than one might think.
To Nino, in an undertone, she adds, “I might be able to help with raw herbal materials, but not alchemy as such.”
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Looking around, William rather sheepishly closes the blade on his scythe. "Yes, it was just a misunderstanding. I think we all got a bit... carried away." Straightening his jacket, he then steps forward. "Moving past that, I don't suppose you could tell us where you were when the murder took place?"
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Killik takes a few cautious steps forward as you explain. With a deft wave and touch he kneels and stabilizes the dwarf's body, preventing it further harm.
"Not to worry. I won't tell. Nobody likes her anyway. So, is she the murderer?" Spying the extracts and such, he adds. "Certainly had the arsenal for it." As he rises, he snags one of the potions from her belt and tucks it in his.
Standing up, he looks directly at William.
"Asleep in the cabin, with the rest of the crew. You want to know more, it'll cost ya."
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Azora rests the butt end of her spear on the dwarf's coat as Killik tries to steal a potion. "This is not the back alley of some seedy port. You do not get to take something just because you think you are entitled. THAT will cost you. She is in no position to protect herself because of a misunderstanding. No one will profit from her compromised condition. Have I made myself clear?" The ifrit stares hard, refusing to back down.
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"Asleep in the cabin, with the rest of the crew. You want to know more, it'll cost ya."
In for a copper, in for a platinum, Willow thinks, as she watches, startled, while Killik brazenly scoops up one of Shira’s potions. If she needed another reminder of just how shady her current means of transportation is, here it is aplenty. Her surprise does make it easier to settle into the role of a naïve innocent.
“How so?” she asks, with a show of a tiny, confused pout. “If you were asleep, what more is there to know?”
Privately, she surmises that 1) he’s offering to trade his piratical magic for coin, 2) if he has spells that would help and isn’t offering them gratis he’s not personally worried about the murderer on the loose, and 3) he doesn’t seem to much care yet whether the assembled audience finds his alibi convincing.
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Conig waves him off. I'll not be party to a beat down and a mugging. We are digging ourselves a hole, we should be looking for the killer. Conig turns and steps up to Killik, placing his hand on the butt of his pistol in its holster. As for you, we do want information, and we will pay. What you got?
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"This?" He pats the potion on his belt while staring down the ifrit with a confident smirk. "This is payment for the healing I just administered. It is the same sad price for crew members, Pathfinder guests, and elven dignitaries alike. I only help those who can pay me. The Captain of course knows this, and he is the one who says what happens on his ship. So shall we saunter up there and let him know what has transpired, and you can convince him of your misunderstanding with poor Shira here, or do we get on with the business of how I might help you. For 60 gold, of course. Seems a fair price since its your heads on the block."
Noting your reluctance, he turns to Willow. "I did notice some odd things before closing my eyes."
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Noting your reluctance, he turns to Willow. "I did notice some odd things before closing my eyes."
“By all means, then, please continue: we prefer to look into than to cause odd things,” Willow encourages, reminding herself to chip in later for getting Killik to talk.
“Normally, at least,” she adds, trying to nudge the room into a marginally friendlier mood. Bantering and bartering with a Besmaran for information, she muses. Who would have thought? The experience might come in handy if I ever visit the River Kingdoms.
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Keeping a careful eye on Nino's sword hand, Killik leans back on the table and accepts Conig's coin.
"So, Like I said, I was in bed at the time, but as I was drifting in and out of sleep that night, I know I heard someone get up several times in the middle of the night, but that isn’t unusual, I mean nature calls for all of us, right. But I could tell that it was woman steps, they have a different lilt to them don't you think? Not just once, but several times that night. The same footsteps. almost like they kept checking for the right time. So once the deed was done and I set to thinking about it, I was trying to wonder who could it have been?"
Killik takes a moment to pocket the pouch of coins.
"I thought back to a week ago, when I overheard Anera trying to cow-tow Sephriel’s bodyguard to a game of knivesies. He never relented, but even after her challenge was declined, she kept on asking almost like she was hoping for a chance to kill the elf without the threat of retribution. And the way she feeds fish her bird catches to that wretch Snig below decks, I wouldn't be surprised if he was in on it too. Sneaky little fellow, he is."
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Perhaps surprisingly, Willow’s heard of the game. Not her sort of thing at all, but it’s popular in one of the cities along common routes between home and other elven settlements, so… Barbaric. But surely it would be extraordinarily unlikely that the loser would be killed outright in all but the most blatantly unequal matches? Seems like a rather unnecessary risk that would only draw more attention to oneself.
Still, the footsteps are something to bear in mind, unless the entire thing is a fabrication, in addition to tendentious. She glances almost doubtfully at her own feet – maybe it’s more of a thing among non-elves? – before smiling her gratitude at Killik, “Well, a lady must carry herself accordingly, mustn’t she? Anyway, thanks for being so forthcoming: we’ll certainly bear what you’ve told us in mind.”
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"Interesting." He starts pacing. "It would seem like this puts her in a tough spot... BUT Anera was sick that night. It certainly doesn't explain how she would be in any condition to commit murder, especially if we're right and it was poison intended for Sephriel." William turns back to Killik, studying the man's face.