Mike let out a breath he'd been holding when it was decided to visit Port William first, he later told you "I was worried you'd drag me out on a mining trip without proper equipment!"
You set out for Port William and arrived early evening, it was cold and wet in town, a few degrees above freezing but a break from the snow was welcome. The outskirts of Port William were dark but the multitude of street lighting made it visible from many miles away, there had been no chance of you getting lost on your way down the mountain.
Your first impression of the town wasn't good, it smelt bad and what passed for buildings on the outskirts where among the worst shantytowns you'd encountered. Even this late you'd attracted children following you, hopeful of some coin. A couple of wretched looking teenage girls were among the younger ones, and you had a sinking feeling the older ones were desperate enough to sell themselves.
Curiously enough none of the kids were willing to enter the well lit central part of town.
The noise of revelry grew louder as you approached, and the muddy streets were filled with drunks staggering around or passed out down some trash filled alley. With distaste you saw vermin scurrying this way and that, even outside very posh looking casinos such as The Gold Nugget and The Lucky Spade.
Edwin had to carefully pack his clothes so that everything wouldn't get soaked in the rain. Before entering the town, he changed into his good clothes, so he could make a better impression.
Edwin asked for directions to the Ramirez Tobacconist, finding out that it's in the central area, not far from Oak Rise.
He asked for directions to Niels Da Vorre's office/house and was told that the man lodges in a university owned house in Oak Ridge. It was one of the few nicer areas of Port William that has brick houses and is said to be relatively safe.
He told his comrades, "Apparently, all the researchers' post goes through Da Vorre's office."
The weather wasn't too great, but it could have been worse, Xindyra thought to herself.
The hungry urchins didn't leave her unaffected, but she realized that, if they'd give them now, they'd potentially come back later.
"They're scared of the center of town. The adult probably won't take kindly to them being near."
Mike had tagged along because he wanted to visit Shotwell's Chandlery. As you discussed what to do Mike suggested, "There's a hostel I know here called The Wayfarer's. It's not amazing, but its clean and the owner doesn't allow any drunks. I was planning on staying there over night, I can organise you some rooms too if you'd like. In the morning I'm going to visit Shotwell's Chandlery and rent a high banker sluice and some other equipment."
He went on to explain some of the prospecting equipment he was thinking of renting before asking, "So what are your plans?"
Thanks, yes, arrange for some rooms. We have a few errands and we'll see you there later.
Zendara avoids Mike's question, not knowing who was involved with the cult and not wanting to give anything away, but she intended to visit Da Vorre's office first, and then see if they could spot the redhead at the Tobacconist. Once Mike was gone, she explained her plan to her friends, asking if they had other ideas.
Xindyra keeps silent as well, to Mike's question. They still were to make solid plans for tackling this town.
Once among themselves, she listens and agrees with the plan to visit the tobacco shop first.
The trip to the Da Vorre residence takes you past a really tacky part of town full of brothels, gambling halls and drug dens. The buildings where all hastily made out of wood with nothing above two stores. A fire here if one were to happen would be awful. You soon passed Gerrik street, the other end of which is where Ramirez Tobacconist was located. After couple more minutes walking the land started to rise and you noted a dramatic shift, wooden houses gave way to brick and the businesses were fewer and generally more reputable looking.
By the time you'd reached Oak Rise at the top of the hill, it was like you where in a different town. The streets were cobbled, the houses looked expensive and judging by the engineering works it seemed somebody was putting in a sewer!
The Da Vorre residence was number 4, while it wasn't the largest building you'd passed on the street it was a very well presented detached townhouse, with an excellent view over the town. It had a well tended garden with a low white palisade fence and stepping stones which led towards the main entrance.
You walked down the path, past a fish pond full of goldfish up to the porch. There was a sign saying: Miskatronic University Regional Administration. Hours: 9am - 9pm.
You knocked at the door and a woman's voice called out, "Hang on a moment, I was about to lock up for the night." You hear a chain being put on the door which opens a crack, and a prim looking old lady with her hair in a bun opens it a crack. She looks you up and down before relaxing. Pointing at Edwin she says "I know I've seen you at the university and I'm pretty sure I've seen some of your friends too. My name is Ethel I'm administrator Da Vorre's secretary."
She lets you in, and invites you to sit in a reception room. The chairs are comfortable, the room is oak panelled and there's a large desk with a bureaux and several metal filing cabinets. In one corner there's a low banked fire.
Ethel says, "I assume this is on university business? And given the hour and your grim faces, I assume it's important? How can I help you?"
Hi Ethel. Unfortunately, we're here investigating a murder. The victim sent information to this office which was somehow intercepted, which led directly to her death. If you could walk us through the process that you use to forward things on to the university, and let us know who has access to the information that comes through here during each step, that would help us a lot.
Edwin bowed and replied, "Edwin J.Wiskers.at you service, Ma'am. We're here with Dr. Monroe. I'm sorry to have to confirm Zendara's news; we really need to piece together the chain of events, and stop the killer. I believe that other university researchers might be in danger."
Ethel blinked in surprise, "A murder?! Oh my... You think the researchers in danger? Mr Whiskers, what happened?!"
Edwin told Ethel, "We found Andrea Mendes dead, after investigating her disappearance. She was researching the Elodin circle, so there could be a connection. Have you heard of anyone else showing an unusual interest in her work?
Where might we find Teller? We should talk to him."
After she gives them additional information, Zendara says
I have another question as well... I just want to get this straight, and be certain. You actually sent the original documents rather than using a spelled pen that would convey the message directly to the university? And you didn't even make a copy?
Ethel replied, "Well Mr Whiskers I'd usually advise you to wait till 8am sharp, thats when Mr Teller turns up here every morning. I'm not entirely sure where he would be at this time of the evening but I understand he has an apartment behind The Purple Turtle in town. Quite why anyone would want to live there I couldn't say, although I suppose it's cheap."
Ethel replied, "Depends if the dispatches are urgent or not. Most of the correspondence isn't although we do offer an express service for a small fee."
How much is the fee?
"One silver per page, a bit steep I know, but we don't want to be inundated with frivolous messages." replied Ethel.
When will the administrator be in, and will be be able to find Teller at the furled sail on a normal day, or is he only there when he is negotiating for Da Vorre?
Ethel replies, "Administrator Da Vorre has gone out for dinner." She pulls out a leather bound book and leafs through it before saying, "He has a slot free tomorrow morning at 8am if you'd like to book an appointment? I'm afraid he's busy for the rest of the day although the day after his schedule is almost clear. As for Mr Teller, I can't say that I know him well enough to guess, he doesn't really encourage conversation."
(pass)
Zendara adopts a softer, kinder tone and says
Ethel, I can see that you are scared of Mr. Teller. Can you tell me why? Do you think he might be involved in the murder? If so, we really need to know, in order to protect other students... and you, if you need it.
Clearly uncomfortable she replied, "Mr Teller is quite imposing, he positively looms you know. He... He reminds me of a caged animal, the way he paces, those dead soulless eyes. I once saw him backhand a man who insulted Administrator Da Vorre's wife Clara, sent him flying. I... I had to pick up some of his teeth and scrub away the blood. I remember that look Niels gave me afterwards, he's scared of him too. Mr Teller is really Clara's agent you know, she likes to joke that he's Niels's chaperone but I think it's the truth."
In a hushed tone to the others, "The Purple Turtle is one of the larger nightclubs in town, with a somewhat dubious reputation. Specifics i haven't heard. But one could speculate."
At Ethel's story about Mr Teller, her arms are crossed.
"That explains the nervous vibe you're giving off.
So this Mr. Teller is a brawler, or enforcer sort of fellow. Is he smart? I mean, could he easily be lied to?"
Ethel replied, "As I said officially he's Administrator Da Vorre's driver, unofficially he's his bodyguard and bruiser which sadly is needed in a town like this. Even less unofficially he's Da Vorre's minder. I'd say he's streetsmart rather than university educated, and as cynical as they come."
(fail)
Hmm. Ethel, I know this will sound like a strange question, but what color hair does Da Vorre's wife have?
Edwin could also tell that the woman was afraid of Mr Teller, and was reluctant to talk about him. He knew the way to the Furled Sail, near the airship docks in the south end of town.
"Brunette" replied Ethel at once.
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Edwin replied,"I'm getting a sense that there's more to it than that. Can you elaborate?"
Thanking Ethel for her time, the group proceeds to their next stop, the Tobacconist's shop.
Ethel looks troubled as you leave, the thought of a murderer on the loose clearly worrying her.
The evening air outside smelt faintly of sulphur on account of the widespread use of coal fired stoves for heating and cooking. This smell and the other city smells grew stronger as you walked down the hill into town and away from Oak Ridge.
Ten minutes later and in a decidedly seedy looking area you found yourselves outside the door for Ramierez Tobacconists. Most of the buildings in the street were a mix of raucous taverns, dodgy looking flop houses, gambling halls and and low brothels. The Ramierez building was red brick instead of worm eaten wood, and it had full length glass windows which were something of a rarity in Port William. Through the windows you saw a tidy shop with row after row of humidors for cigars, snuff and loose tobacco.
As you open the door a small bell rings and you are greeted by the heady smell of tobacco smoke. Behind the glass counter, next to a fancy looking mechanical till is a small elderly man with possibly the most weather beaten wrinkled skin you've ever seen, who was puffing away on a pipe. There's a door behind him leading further into the building, and not other exits. Apart from the shopkeeper there's nobody else here.
The shop keeper nods as you enter and asks, "How can I help?"
(fail)
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Behind the glass counter, next to a fancy looking mechanical till is a small elderly man with possibly the most weather beaten wrinkled skin you've ever seen, who was puffing away on a pipe.
This climate is too harsh to grow tobacco in. Importing must be expensive to do, to keep a tobacconist store out here.
The smell of tobacco was one Xindyra wasn't too fond of. But at least it was less bad than the actual smoke flowing into one's face.
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Having been to many a shop, being a curious busybody, Xindyra heads over to the shop owner.
"We were hoping you could, actually.
You see, we are looking for an associate of ours. Red head, sort of a scholarly type. Times are wary in her home town, and we have traveled to speak with her. We have reason to believe she may have visited the shop, as the last souvenir she left us, was a cigar.
Since you are the only tobacconist known of in this settlement, we were hoping you could point us into the right direction."
The man looked at Xindrya and then at Zendara before puffing deeply on his pipe which made it glow red as he shook his head, "Eh? Till just now I thought red heads were rare... Anyways I might know someone matching your description." He indicated a tip box, "Or I might not..."
Zendara starts making a little stack of gold on the counter, but doesn't place it in his tip box yet.
She stacks up 100 gold, starts to add another handful to the stacks, but hesitates, leaving it in her hand instead, then says
I am sure that we can make it worth your while, but my question is, what is the quality of your information? Can you just tell us in general who she is? We might already have a lead on that, and I might not want to pay for that if I can find it out on my own... or can you save us some time and bring her to us? ... Or do you have more interesting information about her activities and associates that could be valuable?
The man pulls out some scales and carefully counts and weights the coins, puffing on his pipe as he does so. He listens to Zendara's words and responds, "Acceptable. Present company excepted there's only one person I can think of who matches your description. She shops here occasionally,
for tobacco and for information. She has an air of snotty superiority that I find to be quite insufferable."
He took a long draw on his pipe and he told you, "She introduced herself as Ellen but I believe that to be a lie. I think she was wearing a wig and while I don't exactly know what her line of work is I'd place her as some sort of divine provocateur. She seemed paranoid to me and I wouldn't be surprised if she regularly changed her appearance. I believe her to be extremely dangerous."
Jabbing his pipe at you he said, "Its clear you want to find her, I wouldn't recommend that. But if you insist I know where you might start looking. Port William has a hidden underground society of dreamers and sensates, find the church of Nysos and know that it serves The God of Potent Liquids in name only."
Hmm. He's one of those backstabbing snitch types. This might be problematic if the wrong people question him.
Zendara gives him 200 gold.
Thank you for your help.
When the team is back outside, Xindyra motions for the others to halt for a moment.
"Information from him is good, but i've seen his kind. He'll rat out on us in a heartbeat if asked about us. So, should we pick up any sort of disguise, if even possible, while we are here?"
"Anyway, i had a talk once with a follower of Nysos. Did you know they have a secret handshake, and gestures to identify others of their faith? I recall some, we could use those in bars or brothels, should the need arise."
Edwin replied to Xindyra, "That's very interesting. We could try asking around and see what we come up with. I'd rather not give up on finding the killer, for the sake of the other researchers."
After they are away from the guy who would sell them out as fast as anyone else, Zendara says
Good ideas, both of you. Let's see what else we can learn and then head in and use Xindyra's signs to get into the church of Nysos and find out what is up.
Zendara asks around the many taverns and in the shadowy recesses of a particularly disreputable gin palace called Hendrick's she met "brother" Carl... Once a powerful man who had run mostly to fat, Carl still had the aura of danger. He gave her appraising look before replying, "Sooo... You want a snifter of the good stuff eh? The swill they serve here not satisfying you? Heh of course its not, a doll like you in a dive like this? Tisk that'd never do! Here look I'll help a sister out, up in Oak Rise there's The Pump Rooom. You've heard of it I'm sure, proper fancy, make sure you wear something appropriate and tell the Sommelier 'I can't get no sleep' and he'll sort you out."
You'll be expected to wear dinner jackets / ballgowns and generally make an effort. Overt armour will be frowned upon.