"Rolth, you seem a man out of your depth, if you'll pardon my bluntness. My coworkers and I are people of the world - perhaps you would allow us to help you determine what has happened here."
"You got that right. The most serious thing I usually deal with is the occasional sheep rustling. Everyone is just going to have to stay put in town until the circuit judge arrives in town to sort this out. Should be about a month."
Rolth swallows. "I don't think there's any harm in you trying to get to the bottom of this. Shoot, if you can figure out who actually killed Bort, I can probably let you go, and it will look very good when the judge does arrive. Just...don't try to skip town or anything."
The sheriff gives you permission to question the people in town and examine the Feedmill.
Tamli shakes her head. "It's so hard to believe...that he's gone." She asks that you meet everyone back at the caravan after you search the Feedmill.
The kitchen contains the cooking utensils needed to operate the Feedmill—kettles, skillets, knives, a mortar and pestle, roasting spits, a sieve, and a butter churner. Of particular note is the kettle of turnip porridge sitting on the counter, next to a large bowl that you recognize as Bort's dessert bowl. Someone must have brought it in from the dining room--it looks otherwise undisturbed, with a bit of porridge still stuck on the bottom.
Guldun will assist Mr. Good good with searching the kitchen and pantry
Vetch will sniff the porridge and look around the kitchen for any deadly plants.
Vetch, you detect an unusual, faintly floral, smell in the porridge remaining in Bort’s bowl. Checking all the herbs in the kitchen doesn’t uncover a match, nor is the smell similar to that of ground clove and anise in the mortar and pestle that was used to spice the dishes. It is unlike any plant that you might recognize with your knowledge of herbs.
"Something here smells amiss, but it's neither blister cap, nor blue star, nor jackalroot, nor red bedlam."
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Uhtred nods in agreement with Mr. Good Good.
"I don't have what one would call, 'a way with words,' but I'd be happy to play second fiddle to anyone who thinks they could get some useful information out of anyone here. I'd rather not wait around for this judge while the trail goes completely cold if we don't have to."
The only staff member that remains in the Feedmill is Delma, the owner.
"So, do you have any idea what happened? I sent the others home; they were so upset."
"Something was off with that turnip porridge, that's for sure. Who cooks here? Anyone in town an herablist or alchemist? Or a known dabbler in such things?"
"Amora does the cooking. She's the one that insisted we shut the kitchen down, just in case it was some problem with the food. I doubt it was food poisoning, though. Amora is rightfully proud of her reputation for preparing simple, wholesome food. Anyway, food poisoning doesn't lead to such spectacular or tragic consequences." Delma shakes her head, still disbelieving the turn that events have taken.
"If you'd like to speak with her, she lives in the Old Orchard, an area just outside of town that was once a fruit farm. You might want to wait for the morning, though. It's getting quite late."
Having welcomed your role in investigating Bort's death, Delma also informs your where her other staff members live.
Edra: Lives at the Feedmill and is out in the stables taking care of the animals.
Kolnral: Lives with his wife and daughter not far from the Feedmill. Delma notes that he got a bit banged up in the bar brawl and is likely to be recovering for a few days.
Trin: Trin and her brother Marny live on a small turnip farm on the southwest side of town.
Phinick: Delma doesn't know where Phinick lives. She knows only that he sleeps in the barn sometimes.
Delma is steadfast in her conviction that no one in her employ had any ill will toward Bort, and the thought of any of them randomly poisoning the dwarf is "absurd."
"Mistress Delma, are there accommodations available here in the Feed Mill? And I wonder if we might not speak with Edra out in the stables before sleeping for the night."
Delma tells you that she would be happy to let you stay in the Feedmill, and at a highly discounted rate--2 sp per day for the lot of you, as long as you promise to look into the murder, and possibly help her with a few little chores around town when you have time.
Edra is easy to find, as she lives at the Feedmill and is always around, taking care of the animals and making sure the stables are in good condition.
"Oh, good. I was hoping to talk to you all. Terrible what happened with Master Bort!"
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"Terrible indeed, Mistress Delma. Have you any insight into the reason for this murder?"
"As for making enquiries, you can be sure we will. And I would be delighted to work on your staff for the remainder of our time here. I can bring your dinner service up to a level commensurate with your own personal charm. With your permission, I will also instruct your patrons in the decorum expected of them."
Delma looks thoughtful as she answers, "I can't think of anyone that would have a bone to pick with Bort. He was very well-liked in town. Everyone looked forward to his visits! If he did have enemies, perhaps your fellow caravan members would know more about them."
Delma looks around the Feedmill for a moment, considering your offer. "You know, I've been trying to class this place up for a while. I would certainly accept your help. Poisonings tend to be bad for business, so the sooner we get a new gimmick around here, the better."
As soon as she says this, Delma realizes that this might sound a bit callous, and blushes. "Oh, I'm tired, and not thinking clearly. Perhaps that's enough questioning for tonight. I'll check in with you in the morning to see what your plans are."
Guldun will take some time to heal Telly
for
try again in an hour
for
"I guess I found my next job faster than expected. We better have a talk with the rest of the caravan staff just in case, also"
When you enter the stables, Edra is ready to talk to you, "I'm not sure what happened tonight, though it seemed more rowdy that usual in there! I was tending to the animals with Glunda. I heard the sound of a brawl from inside and saw Phinick run out, then Trin after him. Poor thing was clutching a bruise on her cheek!"
Vetch retrieves the vial while Mr. Good Good interrogates the worker, looking around for any other clues, like footprints or other discarded items.
Vetch, you notice that the vial has the same faintly floral odor from Bort's porridge.
Edra readily answers the butler's quesitons: "Phinick Padley helps out around the Feedmill doing odd jobs. Helps Delma with every little thing. Inventory in the morning, then usually helps Amora in the kitchen in the afternoon. Most folk in the town barely put up with goblins—-begging your pardon--so he's a bit of a titchy fellow. Shy around the big folk, and watches out for sly kicks! He always go a-running when a fight breaks out so he doesn't catch a stray fist or chair to the head."
"Trin was running away from the brawl too, I'll wager. She had a hand to her face and it looks like she'll have a good shiner in the morning. She's been a server at the Feedmill for years, though to hear her talk you'd think she's about to pack her bags for Almas or some such. Big dreams, our Trin has."
"Did you happen to see Phinick or Trin throw anything on thier way out?"
"Where did Glunda go?"
Guldun will say in her no-nonsense voice
"I'm sure I don't know anything about butle-ing sir. I mostly stick to animal husbandry, m'self." Edra scratches her head as she searches her memory. "Hasn't been a real herbalist in town in ages. Not since before the plague, I believe. What was her name? Ah yes, Silwyth. I was just a young thing then, but I remember her trying to help people with her poultices and tinctures. 'Till she died of the plague herself, of course."
To Guldun, she says, "I didn't see either of them drop or throw anything, but to tell you the truth I don't pay either of them too much mind. Trin doesn't take her job seriously enough, and Phinick...well he's a bit of a annoyance, though I suppose he tries not to be. He knows enough to go out and sleep elsewhere when he's been pressing on my nerves. Glunda is back with your cohort from the caravan, I expect. I think they are camped out just over yonder."
The stable keeper points to the far side of the yard, just beyond which you see a campfire burning.
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"Thank you, good lady. If I may delay you one moment longer, can I ask about the time of the plague? Did the community come together in the face of it, or were relations frayed by tragedy? Specifically regarding Silwyth, did she have any enmity for the town before her untimely demise?"
After hearing Edra's answer, Uncle GG says to the group, ""Fellows, I say we go and chat to those at the campfire before moving on."
"Ah, it's a sad time, and few folks around here were alive for it. Myself, old Targan Fulst--that's Delma's father, and Delma herself."
Edra furrows her brow in an attempt to remember some details. "I seem to recall that Silwyth had some quarrel with Father Bolgrist, the town priest, before the end, but I was busy with my own worries. My ma was taken down with the plague and it was all we could to do care for her. Didn't help in the end, though." The woman lapses into a thoughtful silence, full of the pain of reminiscence.
When you approach the caravan, Tamli greets you. From the looks of it, Tamli and the rest of the caravan has gathered to mourn. This is a
somber occasion, and everyone in the company is at a loss. "Come, sit with us!" Tamli says. "You weren't with the caravan long, but you can at least appreciate how we feel. Alas for Bort."
"Bort was our leader, and without him, our future is uncertain. Still he would want to be remembered for his life, not his untimely death." There's a "here, here" from the other caravan members, and one by one they begin to tell tales of remembrance through teary eyes, and rare bottles of elven wine from Kyonin are passed around for all to share.
The tale telling lasts long into the night, with each of the caravan members re-telling their favorite of Bort's tales, from his narrow escapes to his inexplicable discoveries to his dubious assignations with exotic princesses.
Tamli remains mostly quiet through this, but speaks up at the end of the night, just as the sun begins to rise. “Bort was more than just a merchant, more than just the boss. He was my friend. We won’t leave here until we’ve found out who did this. Rolth’s a fool, but I’d be an even greater fool if I thought I could get to the bottom of this. Fixing wagons and moving goods, that’s my job. But you,” she says, pointing at all of you, “you might be able to figure out who killed Bort and get justice for him.” She holds back tears as she says, “For all of us. Will you help uncover who did this?”
"We didn't get a chance to tell you because of all the wonderful stories about Bort, but we've been deputized!"
"I'm glad to hear it. We can't ever really rest until this murder is solved. You're welcome to look through Bort's things to see if there are any clues, though you better wait until morning." Squinting blearily at the rising sun, she corrects herself, "Well, wait until we've all had some sleep and can look on things with fresh eyes."
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I think these are our leads:
1. looking through Bort's things,
2. speak to father Bolgrist about the herbalist Sylwith
3. speak to Trin (turnip farm) and Finick (barn, maybe) about what the saw in the kitchen
4. speak to caravan members
5. speak to Kolnral (Delma's employee, lives nearby)
6. learning more about the herb used, where it came from, who had the skill to make a poison from it
Am I missing anything?
I don't think there's any real time pressure for any of them. Since we're at the caravan, we should look through his things and talk to the other caravanners after our rest.
You enjoy a night of peaceful rest--or at least what remains of it. Despite the events of the previous evening, the beds of the Feedmill are a welcome comfort after weeks on the road, and no one rises terribly early after retiring from Bort's wake.
When you return to the caravan, a somewhat-queasy-looking Tamli meets you outside Bort's wagon. She pulls out a ring of keys, winching at the jangle, and open's the door to the wagon. "Sorry, bit delicate this morning. Now, don't go ransacking the place. Bort deserves better than to have people pawing all over his things and pawning his undergarments."
She rubs her temples. "Oof, my head. Sorry to be snappish. I know you lot wouldn't do such a thing. Just keep your hands off any maggical trickets and baubles. We haven't decided what to do with them yet. Let me know if there's anything you have questions about. I'm going to fine some water and shade."
Inside, Bort’s wagon is filled with knickknacks and keepsakes from his journeys. His belongings are truly a bewildering assortment of odds and ends, including a bottle with a tiny skull floating in oil, a taxidermic dragon whelp, a mummified owlbear paw, a shining crystal that holds the illusionary image of a mountain peak inside, and so on.
There are indeed several minor magical trinkets, but nothing that rouses your suspicious or seems worthwhile enough to tempt Tamli's ire.
The most interesting collection of items in the wagon is Bort's business ledgers--easily found in a rack above his bed. The books are large and filled to the brim with details about his travels and transactions over many years. You would estimate that acquiring any useful information from them would take at least 4 hours.
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Bort's many trinkets are a temptation for UGG's old habits and nimble fingers, but he's played the part of a butler for so long that it seems indecorous to steal from the dead. He concerns himself with the ledger and reports that:
Bort visited Etran’s Folly at least 22 times in the past decade, and about five years ago the merchant started making deliveries labeled “reagents” to someone referred to only as “H,” receiving rather large sums of gold in exchange. These deliveries are numbered, starting with 1 and ending with delivery number 14, which occurred the day the caravan arrived in town.
"Who might the 'H' to whom he refers? It seems we'll have to discover Bort's activities from the time we arrived yesterday until his death. Perhaps he delivered the means of his own murder with the 14th shipment of reagents."