"Hmm. House like that needs cleaning. Could be he did it himself, but he was well off, young and single. Could be he hired someone. Anyone see cleaning things?" Erix adds.
After they arrived back at the office, Alua took up a collection from the others, then took her handful of coins and ran across the road to the gnomish deli for sandwiches and iced tea. Today's flavour was bellyberry - she wasn't sure what that was, but it was a lovely purple colour, so she took a gamble and brought a pitcher back with her. She almost made it back to her desk without spilling, but she tripped over Daryl's foot. It was only Phin's lightning reflexes that prevented a complete disaster. As it was, she only had to dust off one sandwich, which she took for herself, and the elf only ended up with one small damp patch on her trousers.
After handing out lunch, Alua sat behind her desk and munched her gritty sandwich. "Let's go back to the apartment. I think we should get the wine, and maybe we can talk to a few neighbours. Maybe find out if nobody locks up around there."
About information concerning relatives... started thinking about the existence of government-issued identification papers and the fact that pretty much requires plenty of record-keeping going on. And it turns out there is an office of City Archives in the Highest Towers district, where extensive records of Sharn citizens are being kept. Now, I don’t see any reason why the officials would want to share any of that information with civilians, but I think it’s reasonable you could ask Sergeant Viduk to request copies of the records concerning the deceased. Might get some time for the bureaucrats to get moving, though, (and going through extensive and very, very manual archives would be quite a chore) so if you want to make the request it’ll take a day or two for the results to reach you.
At the very least, that’d reveal a list of close relatives, some tax details and such.
Phin half choked, half coughed in surprise at Daryl's question. Try as she might, she couldn't make sense of how the conversation got from 'what song are you humming' to 'do you have a soul'. She recovered quickly and gave him a wry grin, "I guess that depends on who you ask. Some have told me that I have no soul while others concede that I have a soul but that it's pitch black. Why do you ask?"
“Black?” Daryl cocked his head to the side, his gaze focused on the elf’s hair. “I would have assumed white for you. Perhaps inverse colors are our souls? Would that make my soul white?”
“It is strange to think of the ending of a life. That this soul of yours..." the Warforged trailed off for a moment. "Of ours could be extinguished. Perhaps if Alua had been on hand, this man could have been repaired.” Daryl paused, slowly turning back to Phin, “Surely there is a part of him that held his soul. Could not that part be installed in a new body? Something less…fragile?”
"Daryl, you are fairly certain that whoever did this was not interested in money, right? He or she or it did leave valuables in the apartment, right?"
The plates in Daryl's neck creaked as he turned his gaze to the human. Daen often referred to Sebastian as their “leader.” It wasn’t that the different members of the group weren’t distinguishable – they certainly were. But the hierarchy seemed superfluous to Daryl. Each member had their expertise and should be followed as the situation demanded. Still, Sebastian owned the apartment and was the creator of the agency. According to Daen, this gave him a specific status.
It mattered not to Daryl.
He didn’t truly need the money, the lodging, or any of it. He watched the rest of them scrambling around trying to acquire enough money to keep their bodies fed and warm. His body needed none of that. Perhaps that is why he was such a good Appraiser. His detachment.
“Daryl?” Sebastian said louder.
He had not answered, lost in thought once again. “Correct. I noted many works of value and no signs that anything was taken.”
Sebastian nodded, “As I thought…”
Daryl continued as if Sebastian hadn’t spoken, “That is not to say that nothing was missing. There could have been a cache of jewels or money, or anything small for that matter that could have been absconded with.”
Sebastian spoke through pursed lips, “Of course, but there was no evidence…”
“Not everyone would recognize the quality art. Not to mention how hard it is to transport covertly or sell easily.”
Sebastian spoke over the Warforged, “Sure, but I think we would have noticed…”
“Many creatures interested in money have no appreciation of art. I would venture to say that the vast majority of the citizens of this city have no interest in, much less care about, art.”
“Daryl!” Sebastian nearly shouted.
Daryl turned to the human, “Yes?”
“We get it.”
“As you wish,” the Warforged fell silent.
After they arrived back at the office, Alua took up a collection from the others, then took her handful of coins and ran across the road to the gnomish deli for sandwiches and iced tea. Today's flavour was bellyberry - she wasn't sure what that was, but it was a lovely purple colour, so she took a gamble and brought a pitcher back with her. She almost made it back to her desk without spilling, but she tripped over Daryl's foot. It was only Phin's lightning reflexes that prevented a complete disaster. As it was, she only had to dust off one sandwich, which she took for herself, and the elf only ended up with one small damp patch on her trousers.
Daryl watched the small human dart around the apartment, his glowing eyes following her every movement. Daryl didn’t have “favorites” among these people, but he did enjoy watching Alua. She was in constant motion, a stark contrast to his own natural inertness. She couldn’t simply place a glass on a table. No. She would put it down, look at it for a moment, turn it a few degrees, stare at it for a few more moments, and then turn it back.
She was fascinating.
She would steal glances at him, never maintaining eye contact. The more he watched her, the more she moved. The more she moved, the more relaxed the ‘forged became. He imagined that this is what sleep must feel like. It certainly sounded like these “dreams” that Daen often described.
“Black?” Daryl cocked his head to the side, his gaze focused on the elf’s hair. “I would have assumed white for you. Perhaps inverse colors are our souls? Would that make my soul white?”Phin half choked, half coughed in surprise at Daryl's question. Try as she might, she couldn't make sense of how the conversation got from 'what song are you humming' to 'do you have a soul'. She recovered quickly and gave him a wry grin, "I guess that depends on who you ask. Some have told me that I have no soul while others concede that I have a soul but that it's pitch black. Why do you ask?"
Phin gave a short bark of laughter, "I can't really confirm that souls have colours. But culturally speaking, people tend to associate bad deeds with a black soul and good deeds with a white soul. I guess I was being facetious,...sort of...I didn't mean to derail or mislead you. But you still didn't say why you asked. Was it out of concern for me? Or are you worried about yourself?"
Ok... so first back to the apartment to fetch the wine bottle for later testing, then try and interview the neighbors, and then to the Inn to see the witness?
You'll get the bottle, no worries. Neighbors are hard to reach, perhaps they aren't at home or they won't feel like talking to strangers - and certainly no-one's keeping their doors unlocked now... plenty of rumors going on what happened to ir'Kilmansor. You''ll find only one person who's willing to do more than shout at your through the door to get away before he calls the Watch, and he doesn't have much to share. ir'Kilmansor didn't socialize much, but was nice enough a fellow when they met in passing. He had been living in the district for several years. Apparently he did keep his door unlocked, and it's not totally unique behavior in the area.
If someone wants to write this out, feel free. If not, I'll summarize the findings in the next turn post and take you to the Inn, and I'll intend to get that post out tomorrow.
Game on!
Sebastian looked at the leaflet for a second before returning it to the person handing them out, "This 'forged is with me. His name is Daryl. He's much more harmless than any of the crooks in this city."
He added, "Have you thought about distributing leaflets for all the crime organizations in the city? You would find proving their crimes much easier than pinning something on a warforged."
tag?
The investigator turned to the wait staff, "Er no. Table for four." He motioned to Erix and and said, "They're not with us."
Sebastian settled in, ordered a drink, and started to observe the people around him."
----------
OOC: I think it's fine to split up the party as long as everyone remains in the same room and in the same 'time'.
Jussi: what was the name of our eye-witness? Do we see him/her?
Action 2
Alua noticed the glowing purple eyes of Daryl watching her as she moved around the room. At least, she was pretty sure he was watching her. His eyes didn't move to follow her, nor did his head turn. But she knew that he had a field of view that far surpassed her own, as did all 'forged, and she couldn't shake the feeling that he was staring.
The feeling made her uncomfortable, and she found herself fidgeting beneath the weight of his gaze. Until, that is, she managed to spill her juice. Again.
Action 3
Alua smiled at the gnome girl. "For four, yes please." As the girl brought them to a table, she looked around and said, "Quiet in here today. Do you think people are home, because of what happened to poor Mr. ir'Kilmansor? Did you know him? Did he eat here often?"
Without saying a word, he offered his leaflets to the other five, studiously ignoring the ‘forged.“Warforged – a threat or a menace?!” the title at the top of the page proclaims,
followed by well-printed article on the topic, the very letters practically seething anger and frustration at the walking, talking implements of murder who are here to take good people’s jobs and could at any moment return to their true, murderous nature.
Daen took the flyer, examining it. It was a well produced piece - he could tell that a lot of time and effort had gone into it. Perhaps if the authors had done a bit more research though. Might as well say that at any moment humans might return to their true, murderous nature.
***
Alua smiled at the gnome girl. "For four, yes please." As the girl brought them to a table, she looked around and said, "Quiet in here today. Do you think people are home, because of what happened to poor Mr. ir'Kilmansor? Did you know him? Did he eat here often?"
Daen took his seat, fighting the urge to look back over Erix and Phin. He didn't really like busy rooms; he would prefer to be back at his laboratory/bedroom, as crowded as it sometimes got. Not that it was likely that anyone here would recognize him, but he still preferred to avoid such places. He resisted the urge to pull out the scroll that he had been working on and couldn't help but feel that his talents would be better used elsewhere else. Preferably somewhere alone. That being said, maybe something would come up.
[at some later point]
Turning to Daryl, Daen gestured to the flyer he still carried.
I get some of the frustration, Daen said to the forged, you've really cut into my appraisal business. But it wouldn't have been any different if a better human appraisal had joined us.
Daen paused, considering Daryl. Your carapace is so different than any other forged. Does it cause you any problems with other forged, or just fleshies like that bigot?
Action 1:
“Surely there is a part of him that held his soul. Could not that part be installed in a new body? Something less…fragile?”
Phin had the nagging feeling in the back of her mind that sometime, somewhere, she had had this conversation before. "If people actually knew where in the body the soul may actually reside, I'm sure they would try to install it in a new body. But as I'm sure you know, all fleshies are fragile so I'm not sure that would accomplish anything."
Action 3:
Without saying a word, he offered his leaflets to the other five, studiously ignoring the 'forged.
Phin considered taking the man's money as penance for handing out these ridiculous flyers but decided he wasn't worth her time. As he tried to hand her the flyer after purposefully avoiding Daryl, the rogue crossed her arms and continued to walk past. "People who are fanatical in their ignorance sow seeds of destructive hatred. Now I definitely need a drink."
He motioned to Erix and Phin and said, "They're not with us."
Phin grinned at Erix, "Looks like it'll be like the good ol' days." She lowered her voice, "But this time we won't be trolling for marks, just information."
When the pair of them were asked about needing a table she asked, "Is it possible to get a table near the platform?"
'Damn Warforged.' Erix carefully kept his eyes turned away from the conversation, but broke in, quietly but intensely, at the end. "So, Daryl; looks like you're pretty close to re-inventing necromancy from first principles. I get this is probably all just an engineering problem for you, but this is something people feel strongly about. Strongly enough to kill. Be very, very careful discussing Souls and especially their absence or storage."
He pointed to Phin "Phin here is cool. She gets where you're going with this. You start a conversation like this in some places, you're going to end up as spares."
"Look, either way - there's a very good chance we're going to draw attention. There's a decent chance that attention might be our assassin trying to get a feel for how well we're following up." Erix shrugged "I suggest two of us - Phin and I probably - loiter nearby as people ask questions. While you're investigating, we'll look out for people paying too much attention. Also means if they do try an ambush, we can hit them from an unexpected direction."
Phin grinned at Erix, "Looks like it'll be like the good ol' days." She lowered her voice, "But this time we won't be trolling for marks, just information."
"Hope not." Erix grinned back, equally quiet "These are my good clothes."
Erix shot Phin a surprised, slightly grumpy look, but when he turned back to the waitress his face was composed. Subtly he offered a gratuity "We'd really appreciate it."
On the way over he whispered "You want the side facing the group, or the door?"
Careful to follow Phin's lead he pulled out a seat for her, using the opportunity to subtly adjust the seat placement. He turned to the gnomish waitress, blocking her view of Phin for a moment "Should we order from the bar, or wait for someone to come over?"
He added, "Have you thought about distributing leaflets for all the crime organizations in the city? You would find proving their crimes much easier than pinning something on a warforged."
”I’ll take a honest criminal over a freak of nature any way of the week,” the man muttered, quite clearly not interested in a conversation.
Daen took the flyer, examining it. It was a well produced piece - he could tell that a lot of time and effort had gone into it. Perhaps if the authors had done a bit more research though. Might as well say that at any moment humans might return to their true, murderous nature.
Daen skimmed though the leaflet quickly. It was a collection of three short articles, all attributed to the same individual – one Maxim ir’Thrann, an assistant vice professor of socio-economic studies in the Korranberg University. The articles were rather well written, although Daen could quickly spot numerous small but important flaws in the basis of the claims presented in them. But from the context, he assumed they’d go quite well with the leaflets’ intended audience; those who already agreed with everything that was written there and only used the articles to affirm their own beliefs.
When the pair of them were asked about needing a table she asked, "Is it possible to get a table near the platform?"
As the gnome waitress (who went on cheerfully to introduce herself as Lirana) led the four away another waitress, this one a timid human girl, came to deal with Phin and Erix. She nodded silently at Phin’s request and led you to a table within clear view of the dancer.
Alua smiled at the gnome girl. "For four, yes please." As the girl brought them to a table, she looked around and said, "Quiet in here today. Do you think people are home, because of what happened to poor Mr. ir'Kilmansor? Did you know him? Did he eat here often?"
”Oh yes. Poor Mr. ir’Kilmansor,” Lirana said, her bright expression darkening with sadness. ”He’s the talk of the whole district since… you know,” she went on, clearly uncomfortable. ”He used to come here on a couple days every week week for a drink or a dinner, but he kept to himself mostly. Oh, he wasn’t a loner, that’s not what I meant, but he just rarely talked about himself. Well, except about his passion for art. He loved to talk about that. I think he was friendly with Mrs. Brax, but don’t tell her husband I told you so – he’s got some jealousy issues,” the gnome girl leaned in to whisper into Aula’s ear.
Hmm… since dancing is involved I’d say tossing coins on the platform might become hazardous for the dancer, so let’s assume there’s a plate on the floor by the ‘forged drummer where you can drop the tips. Or you can wait for a pause in the performance and hand out the coins if you prefer a more personal touch ;^)
Hans Enorn, carpenter’s apprentice. You have a name, but not a description.
Oh, just a funny little fact in case someone doesn’t have the right mental picture… in some settings like Forgotten Realms, for example, gnomes are sort of like skinny version of dwarves with really impressive potato noses. In Eberron, however, gnomes are more like scaled-down humans with elfin features.
After a bit of drink and some finger food, Sebastian was eager to get to business. He wasn't here to enjoy the dancing no matter how good it was.
He called the barmaid over and whispered to her, "I am here to talk to a man called Hans. Hans Enorn. I understand he's a regular here. Is he here tonight?"
Action 3:
Erix shot Phin a surprised, slightly grumpy look, but when he turned back to the waitress his face was composed. Subtly he offered a gratuity "We'd really appreciate it."
While they waited for their waitress, Erix's reaction did not escape Phin's notice. She leaned closer and said quietly, "You didn't expect to actually hover over their shoulders while they ask questions, did you? Besides, those who provide entertainment are quite observant. They'd be worth talking to." Then she patted her lute case strapped to her back, "And maybe they could use some accompaniment. No better way to observe the room than to perform for it."
On the way over he whispered "You want the side facing the group, or the door?"
She smiled as if he had whispered something nice in her ear before leaning in and whispering back, "Door."
Phin thanked Erix as he pulled out her chair and then appeared to settle into her seat but in actuality her body was ready to react if necessary. From where Erix had positioned her chair, she had a good view of the door and the stage.
The rogue waited until the dance had finished that the elf was performing on stage and then gracefully rose from her chair. She looked at Erix and said, "I'll be right back. I just want to show my appreciation for the entertainment."
Moving over to the pair, Phin caught the eye of the elf girl and said, "You move with the grace and poise of one with training. But it also takes quite a bit of natural talent to be able to dance so well with only a drum to accompany you." She pressed a couple coins into the girl's hand. "I wanted to show my appreciation and to ask if you dance here often?"
Erix shot Phin a surprised, slightly grumpy look, but when he turned back to the waitress his face was composed. Subtly he offered a gratuity "We'd really appreciate it."While they waited for their waitress, Erix's reaction did not escape Phin's notice. She leaned closer and said quietly, "You didn't expect to actually hover over their shoulders while they ask questions, did you? Besides, those who provide entertainment are quite observant. They'd be worth talking to." Then she patted her lute case strapped to her back, "And maybe they could use some accompaniment. No better way to observe the room than to perform for it."
"It's fine." Erix sighed back "I'd thought one of those shadowed corners with my back against the wall. Old instincts." he winked, smirking "Plus, you know, front row seats are expensive"
'Damn Warforged.' Erix carefully kept his eyes turned away from the conversation, but broke in, quietly but intensely, at the end. "So, Daryl; looks like you're pretty close to re-inventing necromancy from first principles. I get this is probably all just an engineering problem for you, but this is something people feel strongly about. Strongly enough to kill. Be very, very careful discussing Souls and especially their absence or storage."
He pointed to Phin "Phin here is cool. She gets where you're going with this. You start a conversation like this in some places, you're going to end up as spares."
Daryl turned to the human. “Necromancy…” his voice trailed off. He’d never spoken the word before but it felt…familiar? As if…
No, he couldn’t place it. The more he focused on the word, the more jumbled his thoughts.
”You are angry,” the Warforged stated, his tone seeming to land somewhere between disinterested and disappointed. ”That was not my intent.”
.he wishes to fighT .it is his naturE
Daryl turned slightly, his shoulders square with Erix’s, ”You would make an excellent Warforged.”
He added, "Have you thought about distributing leaflets for all the crime organizations in the city? You would find proving their crimes much easier than pinning something on a warforged."
Daryl watched the reactions of his compatriots with interest. The human at the door was clearly provoking a reaction in all of them. They felt the need to defend him. He both recognized and appreciated the intent. It was akin to a parent with a child.
Daryl was no child, but he comprehended the significance of their protectiveness.
Allowing the others to enter first, Daryl stopped in front of the man. At first the man avoided looking at the Warforged but Daryl had two things the man did not – bulk and time. As other started to line up behind him, the human was forced to acknowledge the walking construct.
Slowly, Daryl extended his hand toward the human. The gesture, usually one of friendship and greeting, was one that few biologicals shared with the Warforged. His three-fingered hand was nearly twice the size of the human’s fleshy appendage. Daryl wasn’t sure what he meant exactly by the act – was he threatening the man? Was he trying to make peace? Honestly, he didn’t know. All he knew was that it felt ‘right’ somehow.
.kill hiM .perhaps we will find his souL
Daryl agreed, that felt right as well.
Daen paused, considering Daryl. Your carapace is so different than any other forged. Does it cause you any problems with other forged, or just fleshies like that bigot?
Daryl crouched next to the table, making sure that his eyes were level with the others to facilitate easy conversation. Not trying one of the chairs was a sign to the owners that he would be careful with their furniture, and by extension, their patrons. A few had regarded him with raised eyebrows as he entered, but they had soon returned to their drinks.
Daryl turned his black-armored hand over, ”Not that I am aware of. The Warforged turned to Daen, “So many of us look so different, I do not think we notice.” The Warforged paused, thinking, ”When so many distrust us for what we are and how we look, we are too busy to notice the minor differences. At least, in my experience so far.”
Daryl watched the dancer for a few moments as she twisted through the air and across the floor. "I do not think it bothers me that some biologicals hate me. They will die with their hate while I live on. Perhaps their children will feel differently.”
Allowing the others to enter first, Daryl stopped in front of the man. At first the man avoided looking at the Warforged but Daryl had two things the man did not – bulk and time. As other started to line up behind him, the human was forced to acknowledge the walking construct.
There was no way for the man to ignore the 'forged's presence, although he did make a spirited attempt to. Once being pointedly oblivious to Daryl's existence clearly failed to make the 'forged go away, he steeled his resolve and met the Appraiser's gaze with a sullen look.
"What do you want, freak?"
.kill hiM .perhaps we will find his souL
Daryl agreed, that felt right as well.
The man was clearly unnerved by Daryl's gesture, and even less sure of its intention than the 'forged himself. There was no way he'd risk grasping that offered hand - the battle-born brute might use the opportunity to crush his fingers if it got a chance! Instead, he backed away a step, glancing around for a way to retreat but finding himself being backed against the inn's wall, with the 'forged's friends between him and the safety of the city's streets.
"Keep him away from me, or I'll call the Watch!" he half-shouted, directing his words to Sebastian and the others, his voice trembling with anger and the fear that was fast eroding its foundations.
Moving over to the pair, Phin caught the eye of the elf girl and said, "You move with the grace and poise of one with training. But it also takes quite a bit of natural talent to be able to dance so well with only a drum to accompany you." She pressed a couple coins into the girl's hand. "I wanted to show my appreciation and to ask if you dance here often?"
The elf blushed prettily at the compliment. Standing next to her, Phin notes she was several inches taller than her, with high cheekbones, flowing blonde hair worn in intricate braids, kind and lively green eyes and the lithe figure of a dancer. And she had been good at it too - not the best performance Phin had ever seen, she didn't have the kind of mastery of her art that'd win her a place in one of the great theaters in the University District, but impressive nevertheless.
"Thank you!" the elf gushed. "That means a lot to me, really! Yes, I'm performing here most days of the week - it's almost like a second home to me, the Bluebird. I'm Corlina, what's your name? Have you ever danced? I think you should - you have just the body for it," the elf went on, apparently pleased beyond herself for having found a new friend.
Corlina apparently didn't require much feedback from the other participant to keep a conversation going, but Phin could sense something off in her cheerful facade - more so when she referred to the Inn as her second home. There was something in the way she said it, the way her eyes suddenly scanned the room, as if looking for someone or something, hoping she wouldn't find what she was looking for.
He called the barmaid over and whispered to her, "I am here to talk to a man called Hans. Hans Enorn. I understand he's a regular here. Is he here tonight?"
"Oh, you want to hear him tell how he saw Mr. ir'Kilmansor's fall?" Lirana asked. "He's been telling and retelling it, since there's always someone who wants to hear it directly from the lips of someone who actually was on the scene. Yes, he's here. Came in just a few minutes before you did, as it happens. That's him over there, at the table by the fireplace. Buy him a pint and he'll no doubt be happy to talk to you. Just between you and me... I think he loves the attention he's been getting."
"Keep him away from me, or I'll call the Watch!" he half-shouted, directing his words to Sebastian and the others, his voice trembling with anger and the fear that was fast eroding its foundations.
Daryl remained motionless. "Surely the Watch would see this gesture for what it is - at the least harmless, at the most conciliatory." Daryl nodded to the crowd behind him, "And with all these witnesses, any claim of yours of ill-intent on my part would be met with a multitude of contradictory accounts." Daryl moved his hand forward a fraction of an inch. "As I see it, you have two choices: Should you wish to stay here and pass out your pamphlets, you will need to shake my hand so that I may continue inside. Or, you can take your leave until our next meeting."
"Thank you!" the elf gushed. "That means a lot to me, really! Yes, I'm performing here most days of the week - it's almost like a second home to me, the Bluebird. I'm Corlina, what's your name? Have you ever danced? I think you should - you have just the body for it," the elf went on, apparently pleased beyond herself for having found a new friend.
The rogue's eyes twinkled at the dancer's enthusiasm. "Everyone calls me Phin and have I danced? Yes. Like you? Not even close. My talents lie in playing the music rather than dancing to it."
Her eyes widened at Corlina mentioning the Bluebird was like a second home. "So did you know that guy that was killed? I heard he came here often."
Corlina apparently didn't require much feedback from the other participant to keep a conversation going, but Phin could sense something off in her cheerful facade - more so when she referred to the Inn as her second home. There was something in the way she said it, the way her eyes suddenly scanned the room, as if looking for someone or something, hoping she wouldn't find what she was looking for.
Phin's eyes tracked Corlina's and couldn't help but be concerned for the girl. In her lifetime she had seen far too many people be taken advantage of. Of course there may have been times when she had taken advantage of people but she also hadn't terrorized anyone. She leaned towards Corlina and asked quietly, "Is everything alright? Do you need help?"
Daryl moved his hand forward a fraction of an inch. "As I see it, you have two choices: Should you wish to stay here and pass out your pamphlets, you will need to shake my hand so that I may continue inside. Or, you can take your leave until our next meeting."
"I don't shake hands with a broom and I sure as Dolurrh won't do it with one of the Cannith tools," the man growled, making his choice by inching his way past Daryl, eyes shifting from the 'forged's eyes to its hand, clearly expecting Daryl to get physical. "I don't know who of you jokers owns that thing, but you should take care. I understand they are mighty expensive to repair," he said, still casting the occasional dark glower over his shoulder at the 'forged to make sure he didn't change his mind try to stop him from leaving with the rest of his leaflets.
Her eyes widened at Corlina mentioning the Bluebird was like a second home. "So did you know that guy that was killed? I heard he came here often."
"Poor old Svans? Such a horrible thing," the elf said, eyes tearing up. "Who'd do such a horrible thing to someone? I mean, sure, he could never add two and two together until the third attempt, and he was always losing money as fast as he was making more, that that led to all sorts of troubles, even before, but to kill him? Surely he wouldn't do something to make something do all... that to him? All those stab wounds... they said at least 42 on his back alone! Horrible!" Corlina's eyes widened in sudden horror. "You don't think he did something to upset the Boromar Clan?"
She leaned towards Corlina and asked quietly, "Is everything alright? Do you need help?"
Corlina's eyes widened in astonishment when Phin displayed such preternatural ability to read her as if she were an open book. "Help? Me? Don't be silly, why would I need help? Everything is fine. Just fine," she said, sounding anything but.
As her distress kept building, the Warforged drummer, who had up to that point sat still as a statue moved, stood up and took a step to put his body between the two elves. "You are disturbing her," he rumbled, voice deep but so quiet to be barely audible. "Please don't."
As Daryl finally joined them at the table, Alua smiled at him. "That was well-handled. I doubt you'll change his mind about your kind, but if there was anybody here who was inclined to agree with him, they'll think twice now."
**
Alua grinned at Lirana. "My lips are sealed! But could you point her out to me, if she's here? Is she a great beauty?"
**
When Hans was pointed out to her, Alua asked Lirana for two tankards, then took one and went to join him. Wanting to hear his "public" story before revealing their intention, she pushed a tankard to him and gushed, "Are you Hans? I heard you saw that poor man fall! How awful! What was it like?" She took a sip of her beer, leaned forward, and practically batted her eyelashes at him.
Her eyes widened at Corlina mentioning the Bluebird was like a second home. "So did you know that guy that was killed? I heard he came here often.""Poor old Svans? Such a horrible thing," the elf said, eyes tearing up. "Who'd do such a horrible thing to someone? I mean, sure, he could never add two and two together until the third attempt, and he was always losing money as fast as he was making more, that that led to all sorts of troubles, even before, but to kill him? Surely he wouldn't do something to make something do all... that to him? All those stab wounds... they said at least 42 on his back alone! Horrible!" Corlina's eyes widened in sudden horror. "You don't think he did something to upset the Boromar Clan?"
Phin made mental note of the victim's problem with money management, possible gambling, and the exaggerations surrounding Svans' death that seemed to be circulating. But it was the mention of the Boromar Clan that piqued her interest.
Phin commiserated with a sad shake of her head, "Truly. It's sad when people struggle with knowing their limits. It certainly shouldn't be a reason to end up dead." She made a horrified look, covering her mouth with her hand, "The Boromar Clan? I hope not."
She leaned towards Corlina and asked quietly, "Is everything alright? Do you need help?"Corlina's eyes widened in astonishment when Phin displayed such preternatural ability to read her as if she were an open book. "Help? Me? Don't be silly, why would I need help? Everything is fine. Just fine," she said, sounding anything but.
Phin knew she didn't look very capable of physically protecting anyone so she motioned at Erix still sitting at the table, "Protection is available, I'm just saying. We performers needs tio stick together."
As her distress kept building, the Warforged drummer, who had up to that point sat still as a statue moved, stood up and took a step to put his body between the two elves. "You are disturbing her," he rumbled, voice deep but so quiet to be barely audible. "Please don't."
The rogue held up her hands placatingly, "No disturbance meant, sir." She looked around the 'forged's torso at Corlina, "We'll be here for a bit if you change your mind."
Then she looked up at the 'forged, "As a peace offering, if you'd like a break from drumming, I could play for Corlina if you'd like. But I completely understand if you'd rather not."
Sebastian bit his lip not wanting to curb Phin in her confrontation with the warforged drummer. he knew Erix would not let any harm come to the elf, but they were not here to make trouble! Business was already bad enough and they did not need a reputation as trouble makers. In the end, he held his peace not wanting to blow their cover but made a mental note to talk to her afterwards.
He was happy when Alua took the initiative to talk to Hans. He tagged along just to add another pair of ears. He smiled but let the scene unfold.
Alua grinned at Lirana. "My lips are sealed! But could you point her out to me, if she's here? Is she a great beauty?"
"Well, you know what the bards say, beauty being in the eye of the beholder? Between you and me, I'd say a well-meaning liar would call her homely. And no, I don't think she's here today. I know her husband isn't - he's not an easy man to miss even in a crowded room."
"Are you Hans? I heard you saw that poor man fall! How awful! What was it like?" She took a sip of her beer, leaned forward, and practically batted her eyelashes at him.
The young man practically beamed at all the female attention. "At your service," he said easily, saluting Alua with his own tankard. "Yes, I saw the whole thing. Well, I saw the fall. Almost landed on me, he did. I was on the way here from work, lost in thought, you know? And suddenly, splat. It's raining people. Poor man, face all caved in, blood all over the place. Checked if he was still alive, of course, but he was a goner for sure."
Then she looked up at the 'forged, "As a peace offering, if you'd like a break from drumming, I could play for Corlina if you'd like. But I completely understand if you'd rather not."
The 'forged looked at Corlina for confirmation and the elf nodded her head quickly, eager to change topics. "It's all right, Drummer. I think I'd like that."
Nodding his head, the Warforged, Drummer, sat back down and seemed to shut down, awaiting the next pressing reason for him to do or say something.
"Don't mind him," Corlina leaned in to whisper. "He wouldn't hurt a fly, really. He's just bad with people."
Well, some information about the Clan is common knowledge, and the rest is rumor... problem is sorting out one from the other, particularly as the Clan has been effective spreading disinformation about itself.
The Boromar Clan is the most powerful criminal organization in Sharn. From a humble start as a gang of smugglers and thieves, the Boromars have risen to become one of the most influential forces in the city. The Boromars have a stranglehold on the smuggling trade and own the majority of the gambling halls in the city. Most of the fences and thieves in Sharn either work directly for the Boromars or pay tribute in exchange for independence. They control a vast network of extortion, blackmail, and graft that extends from the slums of Lower Dura to the heights of Skyway, with its headquarters rumored to be in the halfling district of Little Plains.
But their influence reaches far beyond the criminal underworld. The early Boromar patriarchs invested wisely over the centuries, and today the Boromars are one of the Sixty families of Sharn. They own land, facilities and establishments in Sharn, they have a considerable interest in the shipping trade. A Boromar heir sits on the city council of Sharn, and the current patriarch is a member of the Gold Concord of the Aurum.
While the Sharn Watch is well aware of the criminal enterprises of the Boromar Clan, the Watch rarely interferes with Boromar activities. The Boromars have been bribing Watch captains for generations, and this is largely taken for granted. Those councilors and Watch captains that have chosen to fight the Boromars have always suffered swift and mysterious deaths, and the lesson has not gone unheeded.
Phin knew she didn't look very capable of physically protecting anyone so she motioned at Erix still sitting at the table, "Protection is available, I'm just saying. We performers needs tio stick together."
Erix mentally flipped a coin where Phin looked his way - taking a guess he did his best to quietly flex as he reached for his drink.
As her distress kept building, the Warforged drummer, who had up to that point sat still as a statue moved, stood up and took a step to put his body between the two elves. "You are disturbing her," he rumbled, voice deep but so quiet to be barely audible. "Please don't."
Erix tensed as Phin and the dancer were separated by to the 'Forged - it was saying something, but too low to hear well over this crowd. 'Bloody 'Forged. Could be threatening to kill her, or proposing marriage, and I couldn't tell from its face.' He held a moment, debating internally, then '**** Erix, it's Phin, she can take care of herself. If she wants me she'll signal.
he stands down - but that doesn't stop him mentally checking out the stage for weapons, of course.
Light loadout
(garrote)
He wears clothes that suggest a well off man, but it's obvious they've seen better use. Red tunic & tabard, grey hose, Black boots and a thick hooded grey cloak. Everything about him should suggest a craftsman - but his eyes check each corner, and his back is always to a wall.
Normal loadout
(Leather armor, waveblade, sling, garrote, backpack)
His clothes suggest a man who makes a living through violence. Thick, hardened leather plates cover the most important vitals - breastplate, bracers, reinforced skirt and articulated backbone covering. The clothes underneath are hard to see - reds and greys that will blend into the dark. A wavy sword can be seen at his belt. Over all this is a thick hoopded grey cloak, turning him anonynous in moments.
Heavy loadout
(lamellar, heavy wooden shield, waveblade, stakes, sling, garrote, backpack)
This is a man expecting - and ready - for violence. Thick plates cover every point, the hardened black leather of a man who wants to move silently. Cuts and scars over the armour suggest it has seen heavy use. Stowed on his back is a wooden shield large enough that a smaller man could use it as a tower shield. A wavy sword hangs to the right of his belt, and no less than four wooden stakes are secured at various points.
Impress loadout (add to above)
Affixed to his back is a device that at first appears to be a benner, like those used by certain gnoll tribes. A moment more inspection reveals that the large thick, circular leather is in fact a blade cover, not some for of heraldry. The full device is nearly eight feet long, with a four feet diameter circular blade. It has the look of some piece of Siege machinery, and surely must be too heavy to be used in combat by anything human.
Very good, thank ye. Just copy/paste that to your profile so I can find it in a hurry if I need it.
Surely he wouldn't do something to make something do all... that to him? All those stab wounds... they said at least 42 on his back alone! Horrible!"
Phin gasped, "Forty two stab wounds?!? That is truly terrible. Did you hear that here from one of the patrons?" Her eyes widened and her voice lowered, "Did they witness the murder?"
"Don't mind him," Corlina leaned in to whisper. "He wouldn't hurt a fly, really. He's just bad with people."
Phin raised an eyebrow, "Maybe he wouldn't hurt you but I have a feeling he'd try to rip my arms off if I was a threat to you. And that would make it very difficult to play my lute. Make sure you keep him close while everything is fine."
The older elf grabbed her chair from the table where she had been with Erix with a smile, "Looks like I got an impromptu gig." She positioned herself on the stage behind and so the side of Corlina so that she could see the rest of the room and retrieved her lute. She spent a few moments making sure it was tuned. She then began to play a tune that she thought would allow Corlina to really show off her abilities. While she played, she kept a practiced eye on the room to see if there was anything worth making note of.
While she played, she kept a practiced eye on the room to see if there was anything worth making note of.
The dining room seemed peaceful enough, and now with a better player setting the tune, even larger portion of the patrons were paying attention to the two ladies. Phin could see the owners chatting jovially with some of their regular customers - Graff and Sarfina Pendrong, a middle-aged married pair, and the Inn's dwarven cook occasionally setting food outside his domain to help the waitresses - young girls, one and all - with the heavier dishes. Towards the end of the song you do become aware of a very tall, massively muscled man standing near the entrance, arms wider than a blacksmith's, directing a deeply disapproving look in your direction... or, rather, Corlina's, you realize after a moment as you note his eyes following the acrobatic dancer's movements across the small stage.
The brute lurking by the door easily caught Phin's attention but she continued to play as if nothing was amiss. That's what a performer did after all. Why was it always the big ones that were stupid and violent? No wonder Corlina had been on edge. The rogue assumed that it was a physical relationship that went sideways but it's possible it was something else. Corlina did seem to know a little something about gambling. Maybe she lost some money to the wrong people. Or maybe he thought he was entitled to a physical relationship and Corlina didn't. What Phin needed to decide before the end of the song was whether or not she should even care enough to intervene when the dancer obviously didn't ask her to.
Phin gasped, "Forty two stab wounds?!? That is truly terrible. Did you hear that here from one of the patrons?" Her eyes widened and her voice lowered, "Did they witness the murder?"
"Well... I guess so? They must have got a good look at the very least, to be able to count them," Corlina replied after a moment of hesitation.
Alua cocked her head towards the gnome girl. "Hard to miss? How so?"
***
Alua gasped as Hans described what he'd seen. "Sounds awful!" Lowering her voice, she said, "Did you look up, to see where he'd fallen from? Did you see anybody there?"
Keeping her eyes wide, hoping to look impressed with his story, Alua said, "Amazing that you were the only one around. Was there nobody else on the bridge with you?"
***
Hearing a familiar song, Alua looked over to the stage, and was surprised to see Phin on it, playing her lute. Glancing around, she saw Erix at a table nearby. He must have had a very heavy drink, judging by the veins popping out on his biceps and neck as he picked it up.
Alua cocked her head towards the gnome girl. "Hard to miss? How so?"
"Well... he's got a bit of a temper. And he's never got along with old Borgo," she said, nodding her head towards the kitchen door. "That's our cook, by the way, lovely fellow. Bakes a mean meatpie, too - I definitely recommend you try one. I have no idea why they strike sparks within seconds of getting within sight of each other, but when Kroga Brax gets going it takes some effort to make him calm down - once, Drummer had to literally sit on him for a good fifteen minutes before he saw enough reason to stop shouting."
Alua gasped as Hans described what he'd seen. "Sounds awful!" Lowering her voice, she said, "Did you look up, to see where he'd fallen from? Did you see anybody there?"
"See anyone...?" Hans said thoughtfully, clearly thinking this over and liking the idea. "That would make a better..." he muttered, then cleared his throat. "Well, the angle wasn't good, but now that you mention it, there might have been a shadow where there shouldn't have been."
Keeping her eyes wide, hoping to look impressed with his story, Alua said, "Amazing that you were the only one around. Was there nobody else on the bridge with you?"
"Hmm?" Hans said distractedly. "Oh! Well, no-one I knew well enough to name, but sure - it wasn't too late yet, so there were at least a couple dozen people near enough to get to the body within a few heartbeats. Got away even faster once they realized he was dead and the Watch would be about to ask pointed questions. Now, I think the Watchmen here are pretty decent people, but you do hear stories about how things are in some districts... doesn't pay to take chances, those fellows decided is my guess, and it wasn't like hanging about would have done any good to the poor fellow."
Not much going on, so I'll wrap this turn up in a bit... Erix, if you want to pick a fight with the big, edgy fellow by the door in the hope of an eventual bromance, that's up to you ;^)
Game on!
Sebastian shrugged and sighed at the low quality of the eye-witness account given to them. He prodded the man for additional information, "Can you tell us anything else that may help identify who was responsible for this?"
He lowered his voice, "We can't have someone who would such a thing on the loose in this neighborhood?" He added, "I may have a little... incentive if your information turns out to the helpful."
Once their set was finished, since Phin played for Corlina for a bit longer than planned, she ushered the dancer over to the sitting 'forged with the drum. In a low voice she said, "By the door. I think everything is not fine." She put her arm around Corlina to keep the dancer from looking. The rogue kept a smile on her own face as if they were discussing the performance. "So how much of a threat is the agitated brute?"
Phin looked up at the Drummer, "So you act as the bouncer as well as musical accompaniment? So you would know the regulars, correct? Do you know of any reason that anyone would want to hurt Svans?"
As they were getting ready to leave the Bluebird, Phin sought out Graff and Sarfina Pendrong. "Your tavern is lovely. I apologize for not asking you first before I played for Corlina. I meant no disrespect in taking such a liberty. You seem to run a place that feels like a second home to most of the patrons. Which also reminds me, my condolences for Mr. ir'Kilmansor. His death is all everyone is talking about. Did you know him well?"
Once their set was finished, since Phin played for Corlina for a bit longer than planned, she ushered the dancer over to the sitting 'forged with the drum. In a low voice she said, "By the door. I think everything is not fine." She put her arm around Corlina to keep the dancer from looking. The rogue kept a smile on her own face as if they were discussing the performance. "So how much of a threat is the agitated brute?"
As Phin stood with her arm around Corlina, she shifted her weight from foot to foot in a way to convey the threat to Erix without looking at him directly. It was a method they had used back in the day and she was hoping that he would remember.
Erix noted Phin shuffling for a few moments before the old signals came back. He reached into his pocket, adulterated his drink with the potion, and drank it in one go.
Everything snapped into focus. The ache in his right knee vanished. He could feel his muscles tightening. Adrenaline flooded his body, and he felt ready to run, or tear, or... 'Get a hold of yourself Thorn. Hasn't been that long.'
Stepping out of his chair he wandered over towards the door, staggering just slightly. Kroga was still staring at the elven women, but had enough situational awareness to easily see Erix coming. For his part Erix took his time, eyes running quickly over the bulky man looking for weapons - or tattoos.
'Fast, or we'll have the whole tavern in on this.' Erix decided, launching into a verbal barrage "Hey friend. Seems like you're doing a lot of staring at my girl."
He lowered his voice, "We can't have someone who would such a thing on the loose in this neighborhood?" He added, "I may have a little... incentive if your information turns out to the helpful."
Han’s eyes narrowed in intense speculation. ”Do you have someone in mind it’d be… particularly worth your time for someone to have seen on the balcony?” he asked quietly, sensing an opportunity. ”I think I’m just on the brink of remembering something, is all.”
"By the door. I think everything is not fine." She put her arm around Corlina to keep the dancer from looking. The rogue kept a smile on her own face as if they were discussing the performance. "So how much of a threat is the agitated brute?"
A number of expressions passed over the elf’s face, but Phin was pretty sure there was at least longing, apprehension and guilt among them. ”Threat? Oh… he’s no threat. That’s Roctar. My husband,” Corlina said quietly, her gaze draw to the huge brute of a man and then flinching away, only to soon return. ”Here to escort me home. He’s a bit of the protective sort, you know?”
Phin looked up at the Drummer, "So you act as the bouncer as well as musical accompaniment? So you would know the regulars, correct? Do you know of any reason that anyone would want to hurt Svans?"
The ‘forged looked up at the elf in silence for a long moment. Phin was just about certain no answer would be forthcoming at all, when Drummer answered, almost in a whisper. ”Money?”
As they were getting ready to leave the Bluebird, Phin sought out Graff and Sarfina Pendrong. "Your tavern is lovely. I apologize for not asking you first before I played for Corlina. I meant no disrespect in taking such a liberty. You seem to run a place that feels like a second home to most of the patrons. Which also reminds me, my condolences for Mr. ir'Kilmansor. His death is all everyone is talking about. Did you know him well?"
”Well, I wouldn’t say well,” Graff said, leaning back against the bar table, clearly just as happy to talk to new faces as he did with the Inn’s regulars. ”He was nice enough a fellow, I guess. Came here every so often, friendly, a good tipper. Knew a lot about art – loved it, really. He liked taking new artists under his wing, as it were, finding buyers for their work. Kept trying to persuade us to buy one of Lucian’s horrors. Had to put my foot down firmly at that. I mean, yes, the man has talent, but just imagining one of those paintings in the common room is enough to give me the willies.”
”That’s right, dear. Oh, that poor demented man. Someone ought to do something to help him,” Sarfina agreed. ”And poor Svans, too. Imagine, being strangled with a garter? The work of some cuckolded husband, mark my words.” Clearly, Sarfina Pendrong had found a rumor that tickled her interest. ”I never imagined Svans as being like that, but I guess you can’t judge a book by the cover and all that.”
Erix decided, launching into a verbal barrage "Hey friend. Seems like you're doing a lot of staring at my girl."
”My girl” the man – a head taller than Erix, growled, his voice incredulous but the veteran could see his expression darkening in a hurry. ”That girl is my wife, you bastard!” Up close, Erix could see that while the man had no doubt once had the physique of a god of the forge, there were now signs aplenty that he was aging past his prime.
Han’s eyes narrowed in intense speculation. ”Do you have someone in mind it’d be… particularly worth your time for someone to have seen on the balcony?” he asked quietly, sensing an opportunity. ”I think I’m just on the brink of remembering something, is all.”
Alarmed, Alua held out her hands in a negating gesture. "No! Nothing like that! We are looking for the truth, the actual truth." The last thing they needed was for this overly-enthusiastic attention-seeker changing his story for his audience.
"You're mad!" Erix sneered "There's no way she's married. Certainly not to you!"