Petronia looks disappointed and crosses her arms. "Fine. No opening the chest and no punching anyone...unless they deserve it. If I can't have any fun then might as well go to bed. At least when asleep I'm unaware of all the fun I'm not having."
The four companions slept relatively well, having mostly gotten used to each others snores on the boats. Petronia dreamt of flying fists and broken noses, Matheus of plentiful drink and jovial company, Ner of secret chests that only he could open, and Kazmir of pounding ne'er-do-wells into the snow with one blow of Earthbreaker, like tent pegs into soft earth.
Awaking happy and refreshed, they availed themselves of breakfast in the common room before making their way back out to Riverside district. As they approached the ruins of Skagni's place, they noticed immediately that many new tracks had trampled through the snow and burned house. Ner took a peek inside and saw that the bodies were gone.
As yesterday, the neighbourhood was quiet. A few houses down they could hear the sounds of somebody chopping wood, and a smoke drifted from several chimneys.
Matheus shifted the makeshift harness that allowed him to keep his hands free while carrying their most inconvenient chest. It was a peculiar feeling... the weight was still there, and Matheus didn't feel any stronger, but with the spell he had cast on himself, the weight just didn't seem to be an issue. Not after he had managed to pick up the chest, that is - for a moment there, when most of the chest's weight was still firmly on the floor, it had felt like he was trying to dead-lift a corpse. But then, at some indeterminable moment, the spell's effect kicked in and he found he could carry the thing with only minor difficulty. But the way the chest moved kept throwing him off.
Well, he'd manage it, and if it turned out he couldn't, there was always Kazmir or Petronia.
Once they got back to the ruins of Skagni's townhouse and noticed the missing bodies, the druid merely shrugged his shoulders. Perhaps the neighbors had called the authorities to collect them, as it only made sense no-one would tolerate piles of corpses lying on the street outside one's home.
Frowning, the druid turned this way and that, trying to recall in which house's window he had spied that woman watching the aftermath of their battle. That one, or... no, it had to be that one!
"All right, let's hope the neighbors don't have strangers with quite the same passion as Hjort's little boys," he muttered as he walked to the door, knocked and stepped back to see if anyone was home.
The door opened after a few moments, and Matheus spied what he believed was a familiar face beyond the threshold.
"Trevlig morgon, min goda dam," he greeted, giving the old woman his best disarming smile will of honesty and good cheer. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but we find ourselves in a bit of trouble... we traveled far and wide to visit out friend Rognvald, only to find his house burnt down and ruffians lurking about to greet us. Oh, the state the world is at these days," he shook his head in grief. "We are desperate for any word of what has happened to our friend, your neighbor. Please, would you be able to tell us anything? Anything at all?"
The door opened, revealing a late-middle aged Ulfen woman, and a blast of warm air smelling of spicy stew and warm bread. The woman looked startled to see them, and her face hardened into suspicion.
"God dag, resenär," she began, a friendly enough greeting. "Yes, I remember you people. Those men attacked you, right in our streets. And you let them go! You sent them off, to maybe murder more people." She shook her head, obviously still in disbelief. "The state of the world indeed."
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"Herr Skagni was a quiet man, we did not know him well. His home burned down two, maybe two and a half weeks ago. It was in the night, very scary. We did not see him come out, but I do not think they found a body. Perhaps he had moved on already."
Eyeing the chest he was carrying in the sling, she narrowed her eyes. "You had that yesterday. What is so precious that you must carry it with you, wherever you go?"
tag
The halfling skulked through the dark streets, his hood drawn up to keep the bitter wind from his face. Fortunately, many of the shops in Trollheim were marked with pictograms as well as text, and it was easy enough to find two different bookshops in his travels. Both looked quite ordinary, though, and when he tried to match the name up with the one on his paper, he saw they weren't the right one.
Finally, however, after much fruitless searching, Ner caught sight of a strange charcoal marking at the mouth of an alley. It had a crude pictogram of a book, followed by pictograms of a coin, some wavy lines that Ner interpreted to mean magic, and some numbers. However, there was no sign of a bookstore, or in fact any store, nearby.
As he made his way back to the hotel, puzzling over the numbers, Ner realized they were a date. A date two days from now.
"God dag, resenär," she began, a friendly enough greeting. "Yes, I remember you people. Those men attacked you, right in our streets. And you let them go! You sent them off, to maybe murder more people." She shook her head, obviously still in disbelief. "The state of the world indeed."
"We fought to defend ourselves, and when we questioned those who threw down their weapons, we learned they merely following orders," Matheus said, shaking his head sadly "That was no reason to end their lives - if poor judgement was a capital crime, whole towns would be populated with the dead, after all."
Eyeing the chest he was carrying in the sling, she narrowed her eyes. "You had that yesterday. What is so precious that you must carry it with you, wherever you go?"
"This thing? Something our common friends wanted Rognvald to have, and we swore an oath to bring it to him. Now, though, we are in a bit of a dilemma, with his fate a mystery," Matheus said, sighing as he once again adjusted the weight on his shoulders. "But your words have given us a glimmer of hope, at the very least, since he was never actually found dead."
"You wouldn't happen to know if he had any friends living in the town? A place he might have felt safe to lay low for a while, assuming he got out safely?"
"I told you." Kazmir rumbles like a landslide from the back of the group when the old woman talks about the bandits. "I told you we should have killed them, if only to protect the locals. Bandits are nothing but a plague. The sooner we get rid of them and this Hjort, the better."
Petronia rolls her eyes at Kazmir but doesn't say what she's thinking. You weren't the only one who wanted to finish them
Turning her attention back to the woman she says, "We'd much rather find the people who are hiring the thugs. Have you lived here long? Would you happen to know anyone named Hjort or Runa?"
Her eyes are very sincere when she adds, "If those men who ran away hurt anyone else and I find out, they will pay with their lives."
The woman is shaking her head as they speak of killing the thugs outright. "Are you judge, jury and executioner? Is that how justice is done in the south? Well, in the north, we generally turn criminals over to the authorities. It's their job to keep us safe, not vigilantes like you."
"As I said, Herr Skagni kept to himself. I don't know anything about friends in town, or family, or anything. He's been a quiet neighbour for a number of years, and that's really all I know about him."
To Petronia's questions, she mulls a moment, then says, "No, those names aren't familiar. Perhaps the authorities would know. Seeing as how it's their job to know these sorts of things," she adds pointedly.
"Damned if we do and damned if we don't," Petronia mutters in an annoyed tone.
As soon as the woman finishes sharing absolutely nothing of value, the brawler turns to leave. "Thanks for nothing new. We'll leave you to your chores so we can go ask the authorities."
Ner waited some paces away from the house as he watched. Three was enough to be crowding the woman's doorstep. As he stood there, occasionally champing his feet, he watched the nearby wood waiting for it to come alive with flying axes again. Things didn't seem to be going well ... did this mean they would be heading to the city guard next ... it was cold out but Ner shivered at the thought of visiting the guardi. It always made him feel somehow claustrophobic.
As soon as the woman finishes sharing absolutely nothing of value, the brawler turns to leave. "Thanks for nothing new. We'll leave you to your chores so we can go ask the authorities."
"Att vara artig skulle inte döda dig," Matheus muttered, then bowed at the woman. "Thank you for the answers. I believe we shall take your advice and see if the authorities are willing to share what they know with us. Pleasant day to you and yours."
Matheus knocks on a few more doors, but only one neighbour answers, and he confirms what they already knew. Skagni kept to himself, he hasn't heard anything about him since the fire.
They tromp back through the main gate and into City Hill district. It isn't hard to find the Stadsvakt - the local city guard. Part police, part standing army, the stadsvakt take their job of guarding and protecting the citizens of Trollheim very seriously.
The Stadsvakt building is a long, low, stone building, built to withstand an assault by Irrisen forces. One door, guarded by two stadsvakt, faces the street. The guards are dressed in what is clearly uniform - matching grey fur and leather long-coat and boots, with a close-fitted fur cap under their helmet. Heavy-looking chain drapes over their warm outerwear, and they are holding pikes and have swords at their hips. The man on the left has a thick beard, while the one on the right is an attractive woman. Both have rose cheeks in the cold, and the looks on their faces isn't welcoming.
”God dag, officerare,” the bare-chested druid greeted the two dour guards with his most cheerful voice as they approached the pair. ”Perhaps you could help us? We only arrived here yesterday to meet our friend, but found that some horrible accident had befallen his home some weeks ago. Herr Skagni? The house that burned down? Yes, that one,” he nodded as he saw the glimmer on the constables’ eyes – after all, it wasn’t every day a house went up in flames inside town limits, so it would be certainly be something that people talked about. ”We’d like to find out what has happened to good ol’ Rognvald, and hoped you could shed some light into the matter.”
Ner made sure there was a Kazmir or a Petronia between him and any officers wherever possible and refrained from looking anyone in the eye.
The scowl on the man's face softens slightly, and he turns to the woman and says, "Rafarta, bring them inside and talk to them. Send Suuna out in your place."
The beautiful guard nods once, and gestures the Pathfinders to follow her. They enter the Stadsvakt lobby, which contains a few benches, and several doors. Rafarta opens one door and calls to Suuna, then leads them through another door into a small meeting room. The drab, chilly room is has a small, barred window for natural light, a long table, and eight chairs. Rafarta sits, and gestures them to do the same. Up close, they see that she looks young, strong, and very beautiful. Her long blond hair is escaping from under her helm, and the few small scars on her cheeks and chin only enhance her beauty.
Rafarta pulls out a notebook and pencil, saying, "Please sit. Do you all speak our language?"
Seeing looks of confusion on three faces, she continues in common. "It is good you have come to us. We have been investigating Herr Skagni's house fire, but have little to go on. Tell me, what are all your names? How long have you known him? Did he know you were coming to visit? Where have you come from?"
Realizing she has asked a lot, she looks at you expectantly, pencil poised over the paper.
Ner looked back at the door, clearly nervous, and then mad a quick calculation of how long it would take to worry one of the bars out of the window and escape. When the door closed behind him his heart started beating.
Rafarta pulls out a notebook and pencil, saying, "bbwjbfiuhn rwh b ch whhwwf oojnz?"
Seeing looks of confusion on three faces, she continues in common. "It is good you have come to us. We have been investigating Herr Skagni's house fire, but have little to go on. Tell me, what are all your names? How long have you known him? Did he know you were coming to visit? Where have you come from?"
"mynameisNER ... jusNER ... I don't know where my other name went ... thas Petronia, and Kazmir, and Matheus who all got other names. I don't know him. I don't know Skagni ... I mean I know him for a couple of weeks but we never met. He wanted us to come so I'm pretty certain he must have known we were gonna but he may not have known we were us. He wouldn't run off if he knew we were coming? I come from NerMathas and Kodor mountains and Korvosa. What could have happened to him ... ?" Ner must seem like he would say anything, like he was completely guileless and quite a bit vulnerable. He is just a little thing ... but if you stopped and analyzed what he said you might realize there was not much there.
Kazmir glowers in the background like an angry mountain. The dwarf was sure this was all a waste of time. If these men cared about Hjort they would have already done something about them. Still, he wasn't going to interrupt Matheus. Why bother?
Petronia pulls one of the chairs closer to the wall so she can lean back in the chair against the flat surface. She figured it was more polite than putting her feet up on the table.
She waits for Matheus to give their group's introduction to the stunning officer. She wonders briefly how Rafarta got her scars but knew that now was not the time to ask. Instead she bides her time until there is a natural break in the conversation, "Has the name Hjort come up at all in your investigation? If not, it should."
"mynameisNER ... jusNER ... I don't know where my other name went ... thas Petronia, and Kazmir, and Matheus who all got other names. I don't know him. I don't know Skagni ... I mean I know him for a couple of weeks but we never met. He wanted us to come so I'm pretty certain he must have known we were gonna but he may not have known we were us. He wouldn't run off if he knew we were coming? I come from NerMathas and Kodor mountains and Korvosa. What could have happened to him ... ?"
”Yes, well,” Matheus trailed off after Ner’s less than coherent answer. ”We haven’t personally met Herr Skagni before, but we all share membership in the Pathfinders. He did not expect us in particular, but he did know emissaries from the Society were on their way to meet him. We were asked to hand-deliver some documents from the Society’s archives to him, but we arrived to find his house burnt down, with the poor man nowhere to be found.”
”We spent only moments by the remains of Herr Skagni’s house before we were assaulted by bandits, apparently under orders by an individual known as Hjort to kill any Pathfinders coming to seek Herr Skagni. So I assume it was no chance his house burned down when it did, and he was targeted because he was a member of the Society. The word on the street seems to suggest this Hjort fellow bears a grudge towards us, whether he has a good reason for his animosity or not.”
Rafarta was busy scratching down notes as Ner rattled off names, clearly looking surprised at the halfling's loquaciousness. It wasn't until Matheus mentioned the Pathfinders that she looked up, startled. "You're Pathfinders? And you claim that Herr Skagni was as well? We didn't know that. Do you have anything that backs up this claim?"
**
Gesturing to the trunk, she said, "Are these the documents? I would like very much to see them." It was clear that she didn't believe that the chest held nothing but papers.
**
"Has the name Hjort come up at all in your investigation? If not, it should."
Rafarta shook her head. "There has been very little in the way of investigation so far. There was no evidence to suggest that the fire wasn't accidental, and as there was no body, and nobody was reporting Herr Skagni missing, there was no reason to suspect he hadn't just left on his own."
"As for Hjort, that name is familiar. I don't know that I would have remembered it, if you hadn't mentioned Pathfinders. But I remember hearing about a warrior named Hjort, who came to Trollheim a while back. Apparently his village was slaughtered on the Arcadian coast. The rumour was he was destined to be jarl of his people. If the Pathfinders killed his kin, then it's no wonder he's targeting them." She looked at them expectantly, clearly hoping for more of an explanation about their murderous Pathfinder colleagues.
Kazmir takes a step forward, blocking the line of sight between Rafarta and the chest. The dwarf frowns and says, 'This chest is bound to Herr Skagni and we are oath bound to deliver it up to none but him."
"Are these the documents? I would like very much to see them."
Petronia snorts, "So would we, but that's not going to happen. Bound by oaths and all."
The brawler crosses her arms, "Were you one of the ones that investigated the fire? Did anyone see any tracks going from the house? If no body was found, we have to assume that Herr Skagni got out. It would be nice to know which way he went."
"You're Pathfinders? And you claim that Herr Skagni was as well? We didn't know that. Do you have anything that backs up this claim?"
"Well, the Society doesn't exactly issue certificates of membership that are universally recognized, but it does issue these, and is well known of taking a very dim view of any non-members owning one," Matheus said, showing Rafarta his Wayfinder, wondering if she had a clue what the magical item was in the first place or how to determine it was indeed a Wayfinder and not some other magical trinket."[/b]
Petronia snorts, "So would we, but that's not going to happen. Bound by oaths and all."
"Indeed, we swore to deliver the documents to Herr Skagni and no-one else. Even we haven't seen them."
"As for Hjort, that name is familiar. I don't know that I would have remembered it, if you hadn't mentioned Pathfinders. But I remember hearing about a warrior named Hjort, who came to Trollheim a while back. Apparently his village was slaughtered on the Arcadian coast. The rumour was he was destined to be jarl of his people. If the Pathfinders killed his kin, then it's no wonder he's targeting them." She looked at them expectantly, clearly hoping for more of an explanation about their murderous Pathfinder colleagues.
"That's about what we heard when asking around," Matheus agreed. "As to whether there is any truth to Hjort's claims, I cannot say. We are supposed to explore the world and reclaim secrets lost to the ages, not bury secrets with the people who knew them. But the order is spread far and wide, with small teams in every part of the world carrying out their missions. And there always is the occasional bad apple in every orchard. It is possible that Hjort ran into a particularly ruthless member of our society, and had something the Pathfinder in charge thought worth killing."
"Or it might be that there was another reason for Hjort's clash with our brothers and sisters, and having come the second best in the battle that ensued, he is now trying to justify what happened, turn himself into the wronged party. I have seen people lie to themselves long enough to start believing their own version of reality, or he might just be trying to save face if he was the one who ordered an attack on the Pathfinders, not the one defending himself from harm."
Ner raises his right hand ... he remembers having to do this when learning his letters long ago in the Church of Erastil ... and waits.
Rafarta looked at the wayfinder, eyebrows raised. "Sorry, this doesn't mean anything to me."
Her blond eyebrows climbed farther up her head as they all claimed not to have seen the documents they claimed they were carrying. "You are oath-bound to deliver a chest filled with something you haven't seen? I trust that you have a blood-oath at the very least from your employer as to the contents of this box? And you can swear to me that there has never been the opportunity for anybody to tamper with it since it was sealed?"
Noticing the previously - talkative halfling now sitting at attention, she looked at him and said, "You have something to tell me," she glanced at her notes, "Ner Jusner?"
Ner giggled at Rafarta's mistake and then remembered himself and cleared his throat,"Um, sorry ... there's one thing I don't understand ...", Ner looked imploringly at his companions and at Rafarta, "Whas going on? We only jus got here and the house is burnt down? and I didn't see no slaughtered village, and people with axes attacked us but they don't seem to even like each other. It's just that I don't know what we did that was wrong ... and you want to open the box?! I wasn't allowed, why do you get to ... Ner looks at Petronia Why does! ... why does she get to."
Petronia looks sympathetically at Ner. She knows how hard it must be for him to not be able to root through and re-pack the chest. "Don't worry, Ner." She looks up and holds Rafarta's gaze with a hard one of her own, "She doesn't."
Turning back to the halfling, her face softens again, "You'll be the first one to open it if we can't find Herr Skagni."
"Officer, instead of focusing on something that isn't going to happen, how about you investigate another name that came up during our little interrogation of our would-be assassins. Runa White. Apparently she wanted the Pathfinders dead as well - except for one. She probably wanted one to torture for information."
Rafarta frowned slightly as she repeated the name. "Runa White. Runa White. Please wait a moment."
Standing, she opened the door and stepped into the lobby. The door closed behind her, but not all the way. Calling to one of the other stadsvakt, she asked in Ulfen, "Runa White - why is that name familiar?"
A deep voice answered, also in Ulfen, "White? That's the name of that Chelish woman, been reported at the markets, hiring mercenaries. Thurra said she saw her get cornered by a handful of Graal's men last week. Thurra ran to help, then the whole area was lit up with some sort of holy fire. By the time Thurra's eyes adjusted, there were five burned corpses and no White."
A moment later Rafarta reentered the room and sat down. "It sounds like you have run afoul of some nasty people. I would recommend that you hole up somewhere while we take care of this. I appreciate you coming to us with the information you have. When we find out what happened to Herr Skagni, we will be certain to let you know. Where are you staying while you are in town?"
A moment later Rafarta reentered the room and sat down. "It sounds like you have run afoul of some nasty people. I would recommend that you hole up somewhere while we take care of this. I appreciate you coming to us with the information you have. When we find out what happened to Herr Skagni, we will be certain to let you know. Where are you staying while you are in town?"
"The Bell and Hammer Inn, in Castle Hill," Matheus said, nodding his head in thanks. "It is unfortunate that you could not verify whether Herr Skagni is still alive or not, but we remain hopeful you will get to the bottom of this in due time," he said, sensing the interview was over and it might be best to leave before they overstayed their welcome.
Where to next? Back to the inn, as you've been instructed?
The Pathfinders had no intention of following Rafarta's instructions, and instead of heading back to the inn, they asked around for the nearest market.
Each of Trollheim's districts was home to one or more markets, and they tended to be unruly, smelly, industrious and very busy. As they approached the nearest one, Copper Market, they heard the bustle of business from several blocks away.
Unlike the fairly organized market system of Absalom, Trollheim markets looked like mayhem to the untrained eye. Fish mongers were set up beside jewellers, and the stench of tanners mixed in with the fragrant smells of rich stews and fresh bread. Root vegetables, herbalists, snake-oil sellers, clothiers, blacksmiths - you name it, you find it in the large, sprawling market.
A few beggars are stationed here and there, not as many as you might expect. Clearly, the frigid wind whistling through the market keeps all but the hardiest downtrodden away. Housewives and soldiers, merchants and scholars, all mingle freely, if not politely, in Copper Market.
”So, how do we approach this,” Matheus asked, shifting the uncomfortable weight of the chest on his shoulders. ”That Runa woman – a Chelishite, if the guards had it right, so another foreigner – was here some days before, trying to hire swords to her cause, got harassed by some locals – “Graal’s men” sounded like some gang of strongarms – for reasons unknown, and handled the matter with magic in a most final and flashy manner.”
”If she tried to recruit once, and was interrupted, she likely will try again, although I would assume the guards to have been kept an eye open for her return here, to question her, so she might have taken her business elsewhere, or found some middleman to do the work for her.
”The merchants should certainly remember such a conflagration, and the name Graal might be familiar to locals. So shall we just ask around and see what we may learn… and who might be paying an attention to people asking those questions?”
Uncharacteristically thoughtful Ner piped up, "She used fire?! We could find out where it happened by looking for the heavy scorch marks. People working there might know more ... I could do some scouting? Strange, she used fire in the market place and Skagni's house burnt down. I just thought of that."
Ner tugged on Petronia's arctic coat hem, smiled his crooked toothed grin at her, and set off as close to the building walls as possible. Sometimes he walked directly in front of the seller's stalls, his head just beneath table height. Occasionally, he followed the largest Ulfen he saw borrowing the big-un's cover. He tried to keep the team in view and watched what kind of people were watching them.
It was difficult to see the team through all of this cover ...
"She used fire?! We could find out where it happened by looking for the heavy scorch marks. People working there might know more ... I could do some scouting? Strange, she used fire in the market place and Skagni's house burnt down. I just thought of that."
”Fire is a good tool to make a point, but you might be right and there’s a connection,” Matheus said, frowning in thought. ”Fire is also destructive and indiscriminative, though, and Runa seemed eager to get Pathfinders alive, not burnt to a crisp. Could be that she had changed her mind after what happened to Skagni, though.”
”I’ll go ask some questions. If you do scouting, make sure you can get back to here afterwards – might be hard for you to see past the crowd to find us, if something happens,” the druid added, taking a few coins from his purse. It would be rude to merely ask questions, after all, and not make any purchases, this being a market and all. And, truth to tell, some of the aromas in the air were making him quite ravenous. It had been a couple of hours from breakfast, after all.
Matheus made his way into the market, flanked by Petronia and Kazmir. Between the druid's friendly demeanour, the strange load he was carrying, and his two angry-looking foreign bodyguards, they were a strange sight indeed.
The pie-wife didn't know anything about Hjort and Runa, nor did the man with the ale-cart. Graal, however, everybody knew. He was a local crime-boss, such as a town like Trollheim could support. He had a few toughs and thieves that roughed folks up every now and then. However, he was careful not to get too ambitious; so far he hadn't done anything bad enough to make the Stadsvakt come after him in a serious way.
A local girl had a table covered in snow, and was pouring a sweet syrup into the snow in delicate patterns, then selling the flash-frozen treats. Stopping to sample her wares question her, Matheus attracted the attention of a tough-looking Ulfen (though really, were any of them NOT tough-looking?), who overheard the questions.
“Yeah, I know those two," he offered. "They approached my friends and me and offered us a ridiculous sum to work for them. But we stayed well clear of that offer. If you're looking for work, friend, you'd do better just about anywhere else."
He couldn't see whom she was communicating with, but her message was clear. Possible package. Tough foreigners. Bring team.
Petronia smiled down at Ner when he tugged on the hem of her coat. She nodded and patted him on his back as he disappeared into the crowd.
The brawler kept to Matheus' left as he moved through the crowd. She thought it fairly ridiculous that they were still carrying around the chest. She should have just let Ner open it and be done with it.
When they finally find an Ulfen with useful information, she added her questions along with the others, "What kind of work? And how much?"
The warrior shrugged. "Merc work. Not sure the details. But he was offering double the going rate."
Stopping to lick sticky sugar from his fingers, Matheus nodded his head amiably at the two bravos. It wasn’t much, yet, but at least something. And it confirmed Hjort and Runa were working together, even if partially at cross purposes, with their conflicting orders about identified Pathfinders.
”So you could tell good money from bad… you happen to hear if others in the business were not so quick on the uptake, or just desperate enough to take up the offer?” he asked the two.
He looked around cautiously for a stall that might have something small he might throw ... roasted chestnuts??? Something he could signal the others with and not totally reveal himself.
Petronia crosses her arms and snorts, "So they told you nothing about why they wanted to hire you? They just thought you'd agree to anything if they threw enough coin at you?"
The brawler finds herself getting restless. It was not in her nature to just stand around talking, she'd much rather be doing something. "They give you any way to contact them if you changed your mind? Or is this a case of 'you don't find them, they find you' kind of thing?"
"Sure, plenty of fools ready to take easy money. I heard that a few of them showed up dead yesterday. Trouble with some foreigners out in Riverside..." his voice slowed down as he stared at Petronia and Kazmir, and put two and two together. He visibly struggled for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders slightly. "They mentioned meeting them at some tavern. Can't remember the name of the place. Some shady-sounding hole in Charcoal Valley. Best to ask around there."
He hesitated again, then added, "Whatever your problem with Hjort and Runa, might want to walk away. Neither of them are quite right in the head."
Nuts successfully purloined, Ner kept a weather eye on the "greenie". She kept her distance, but was clearly keeping an eye on Matheus, Petronia and Kazmir.
He hesitated again, then added, "Whatever your problem with Hjort and Runa, might want to walk away. Neither of them are quite right in the head."
”Sage advice; we’ll take your words to our hearts,” Matheus said, nodding his head in thanks to the two mercenaries.
”Well, that was interesting, but didn’t exactly help us much,” Matheus murmured to Petronia and Kazmir once they had put a few yards between them and the helpful mercenaries. ”A foreign woman near burns down the entire market a week past, and no-one seems to recall it. Boggles the mind, that does.”
”That crime lord is a new lead, at least, but I wonder how easy it’d be to get anything useful from him, and how many skulls the two of you would need to crack before we even got to speak with the man in charge?” The druid popped a roasted nut into his mouth, munching on the treat as he considered. ”If no-one else will bite, I’m starting to lean on getting this chest open just in case something inside would point us to the right direction.”
”If no-one else will bite, I’m starting to lean on getting this chest open just in case something inside would point us to the right direction.”
Petronia barks with laughter, "Finally! But you better not let Ner hear you say that unless it's a sure thing. All he'll hear is 'chest open' and then make it happen."
"I'd say our next visit is the tavern in Charcoal Valley. Sounds like it could be fun extracting info from a shady hole-in-the-wall."