|
Antarah thinks deeply before answering Ibhrim. He accepts the change in subject and says "My father and I do not... did not... get along very well. He... will not be leaving Sothis." Antarah looks to the horizon towards the west as he continues "I am going to Kelmarane to find some truths. I must understand my heritage if I am to learn who I am and who I'm meant to be."
Antarah lets his reply linger for a moment before continuing, caressing the hilt of his elaborate sword. "Of course, I only have the name of my mother to look for over there. It's not much, but maybe by only standing there I might be led to my destiny." It is clear the man believes in a higher power directing the world.
Ibhrim manage to catch one goat and to bring it back struggling. But in the bigger picture it didn't help much. Hadrod and Hadra are still busy herding the animals together and looking out for lost ones.
Physical examination of the ruined wagon reveals sooty ashes, a few broken bottles or potion vials, a cracked nonmagical crystal ball, and several pools of melted wax where candles must once have stood. Eloais’s charred remains are near the center of the wagon.
No signs of struggle or violence are found, suggesting that the fortune-teller was killed by the fire itself or from inhaling the smoke the fire caused. There are some blackened coins on a piece of leather that must have been a pouch.
As Ibhrim looks around for people to ask what they've seen he notices Dashki, an unkempt man, that observes their investigations, but turns away as he is noticed.
Antarah detects no magic in the burned reamins. Neither the cards, nor the crystal ball detect as magic.
The mercenary, Trevvis, recovers after the treatment given by Aithaloessa and Antarah and with a few more minutes rest he can get up and move on his own again.
Garavel comes over again "The destroyed wagon belonged to Almah’s personal fortuneteller Eloais, a handsome man from Almah’s distant homeland of Varisia. Eloais’s specialty was a divinatory deck of cards known as Harrow, a few of which litter the ground here outside the burned-out wagon."
After investigating the wagon, Yasmeena shares her discoveries with the others. She notices Ibrim carrying the goat, and she smiles at him, waving him over to include him in the discussion.
|
|
Antarah calls Garavel to the side and says in a low voice "It is not my business to mindle in the affairs of princesses, but this time it could be important. Are you sure Eloais' job was only divination?" He looks at the man implying Garavel would know if they had any other special relationship. "If the fire was not accidental, then it could be jealousy related."
"Who would be jealous of whom?" Garavel inquires. But after a moment of thinking he gets the drift.
"It is beyond doubt the relationship between Princess Almah and Eloais was purely professional. And her reaction to his death gave proper witness of that." he tells with light indignation sneaking past his usual emotionless state.
|
|
Antarah bows his head low and says "Of course. Forgive my implication. I only wanted to get this notion out so it can be quickly discarded."
Following Aithaloessa's previous remark, Antarah looks over the Harrow cards and their position on the floor. He takes a parchment from his backpack, also ink and an inkpen and draws their disposition. After his drawing is complete, he picks up the cards and puts them in his backpack.
Afterwards, the large Garundi man tries to gently go through the burned wagon, hoping to find some hidden compartment, where Eloais could be keeping something secret. He also asks the other hired people to come and look for some secret compartment.
"From the looks of it, it seems he stumbled and his head fell on his crystal ball" Tariq explains. "Probably when he tried to flee the flames, though this is mere speculation."
Since the plan seems to interview everyone, Tariq appears eager to accompany whoever does it, though he himself has little to contribute on that matter - he's never been good with words, neither be it emitting or receiving them. Specifically, he shows interest in the interview with Father Zastoran.
Relieved when Trevvis starts to stir again, Aithaloessa makes sure he doesn’t push himself too hard. “Take it easy, there,” she says gently but firmly. “I’ve done what I can, for now, and we’ll see what else we can scare up for those burns, but no one would blame you for catching your breath and letting your body start to heal. That was brave of you, and once you’re feeling up to it, we’d appreciate anything you can tell us about this fire.”
“Take a few minutes, and then find any of us – we’re the new guards hired by Almah,” she explains, indicating herself and the other adventurers.
Giving the man his space, Aithaloessa joins the others around Yasmeena as the group starts pooling their first findings. “Right. No signs of a struggle, just misadventure when he tried to escape the flames?”
She realizes she was in a hurry to check on the wounded, and probably missed any number of things. The damage was atrocious, but we should check to see how old the deceased was. And the bottles and things for residue. How did the fire burn so quickly? Just a knocked-over candle, or did he spill some oil too, or what?
Garavel’s prompt reappearance surprises her, as does his reference to the scatter of Harrow cards. She knows she mentioned the one herself, but she’s hardly an expert. Superstition? If it was some sort of magic, it would be a very strange way to use one’s last breath. That said, Aithaloessa knows an opportunity when she sees one, and after Antarah talks with Garavel, the elf drifts back to the area where the other cards fell, and helps Antarah collect them before revisiting the wagon. She concentrates on being pointy-eared and mysterious. She is sure that being an obvious outlander helps.
The vials are nondescript and everything that was inside evaporated or burned. Where there are remains they are blackened.
Yasmeena seems well-suited to trying to speak with the potential witnesses. Since they are close by, she starts with Trevvis, following up on Aith's opening. "Yes, very brave! The company is lucky to have you here with us. I don't suppose you saw anything before the fire began?" she asks.
"We six were enjoying ourselves around the feast-fire, finishing off dinner with a sturdy drink. We didn't notice anything before the wagon suddenly was ablaze. And then it was too late." Trevvis answers.
"Like we would hang out with that weak ass harrow card dealer." Trevvis tells.
Yasmeena laughs. "What do you mean, weak?" she asks, curious.
Ibhrim starts with asking one of the mercenaries that helped to try and push the second wagon out of the way. They were being paid to keep their eyes open after all.
"Have you seen anything out of the ordinary before the fire started? Near the wagon that is."
"A man dressing in colorful bloomers and cloaks, playing with cards and a crystal ball? If he had took a sword he probably would have killed himself." Trevvis explains. "Just not the type of guy we want to chill with."
The guards Ibhrim talks to, ensure him that nothing suspicious was going on. And they for sure were paying attention. "How about you check on Dashi. He always lurks around somewhere. Who knows what he is up to."
Aithaloessa shadows Antarah back to talk with Trevvis along with the others: she’s sure that she can pick up a few things from seeing the magus at work.
She feels an eyebrow wanting to arch at the mercenary’s disdain for the mantic arts, or – apparently – different sartorial choices, but then she’s got professional experience of suffering louts. She keeps her expression and tone carefully neutral, and chooses a soldierly register.
“I hear you. Must be weird to be a diviner and not see it coming,” she adds quizzically. “But then they say things like that have been weird for a while – so much for Starfall, hey?”
She may not like the guy, but she leaves Trevvis with some tips for how often to change the dressings on his burns and generally keep as comfy as possible while they heal.
Trevvor get that puzzled look on his face when Aithaloessa talks about things he has no clue of. But the advice for his curative treatment he accepts thankfully.
The other mercenary that Ibhrim interrogates answers "No, nothing before the fire blasted the window of the wagon out. We were all sitting aroung the fire when that happened. You can ask Father Zastoran, he was with us."
"You're here to ask me about the fire? Sure, sit down." Zastoran says. He makes himself comfortable next to the campfire and gets a pipe and some tobacco out of his jerkin.
"We were all surprised by it, as far as I can tell. I saw noone close to the wagon as the fire erupted. But what do I know."[b] He knocks out the pipe and starts to fill it with fresh tobacco.
"I think Eloais was a charlatan and that Almah is better off now without
his attention, but she did seem quite fond of him."
"Don't get me wrong, I liked him a great deal. Not a one of these others
here can discuss the poetry of Bellianais or the music of far-off Absalom. Eloais was well traveled and intelligent. I will miss him." Zastoran takes a twig, lights it in the campfire and lights the pipe with it, taking a few puffs.
|
|
Antarah sees the others interrogating others and is satisfied. He keeps on going with the brute mercenary. He may not be the brightest, but that usually meant they were the least likely to lie convincingly.
He asks Trevvis "Did he spend most time in his wagon? How did the princess consult him? Did he come to her or the other way around?"
"Princess Almah wouldn't come to that little wagon. Of course he visited her in her tent. Why, what are you insinuating?" Trevvor asks, doing the Magnum PI eyebrow raising.
"I got hurt when I tried to get into the wagon to get that card dealer out. It's our job to make sure no one gets hurt here, after all." Trevvor tells.
"We noticed it when it burst the window of the cart. And then it got air and everythign was aflame in an isntant." Trevvor tells.
|
|
Antarah says "Thank you, Trevvor. Rest now. You've earned it." He leaves Trevvor and stands looking at the wagon for a while, wondering. There are only two ways it happened. Either there was an explosion, such an alchemical failed experiment, or the fire started while Eloais was unable to react to it.
He thinks that the latter option would mean that Eloais was unconscious as there was no indication that he was bound. The first one was unlikely to be a spell, as its casting would have been noticed by the other men. Antarah requires a more knowledgeable person. He decides that Father Zastoran could know about that.
He approaches the conversation taking place with Father Zastoran and when there is an opportunity, he asks "Hello Father. My name is Antarah. Tell me. Was Eloais versed in any kind of magic? I mean, one of the arcane arts or divine in origin, not the Harrow cards."
"As I told your companion here, I believe Eloais fortune telling was nothing more than a well versed fake. And a mundane fake, no magical one."
"Me." Father Zastoran tells. After thinking about it for a while, taking a puff from the pipe he adds "I don't hink someone else does."
|
|
Antarah takes a while before answering. He thinks Father Zastoran doesn't seem to have reason to hurt Eloais, maybe only because he felt the man was exploiting the princess. But still, that doesn't seem enough. I still don't want to rule him out just yet. Let us test him some.
Antarah asks Father Zastoran "So what do you think happened?"
"I find Dashki rather unsettling, and his obsession with Almah somewhat disturbing; No one with healthy desires skulks around a pretty woman the way he does. Who knows what a scoundrel like him is capable of?"
|
|
Antarah thinks He was quick to point a finger. I'll have to remember that. The Garundi man asks Father Zastoran for Dashki's description and then says "Thank you Father", and leaves. After taking a few steps, however, he stops, turns around and says "Uhm, uh. One more question Father, I'm sorry. Where were you when you first heard of the fire? Did you see it? Or did you hear the commotion?"
"I sat with the six mercenaries at the fire. I was just getting up to read in peace because they were too loud as the commotion started."
Yasmeena listens to Antarah question Father Zastoran, nodding sagely at what he asks. She wonders how trustworthy the priest actually is, though she doesn't doubt that he is a pious man.
"Dashki, eh?" she says to the others as they leave the priest. "A scoundrel? I wonder what role he serves in the camp."
Aithaloessa lingers for a moment with the priest, trying to get her own read of him. She cudgels her brains to identify an obvious holy symbol or style of vestment, but she’s not a particularly religious person.
In what she hopes is a bit of companionable silence, she looks into the distance, out to the Sultan’s Claw, as she gathers her thoughts.
“What’s it like tending to the spirits of those who join a caravan, Father? I’m curious,” she asks, explaining, “I’m afraid I’m one of those elves. You know, ‘pray to Calistria to get into trouble, and someone else to get out of it.’ And of course growing up in Alkenstar didn’t help, where prayers – well, I will say the temples Skyside were lovely, but that wasn’t my world.”
She stops short of saying that in the dead magic zone Smokeside, prayers are nice words, at best with good intentions behind them. Besides, on the subject of getting into trouble, she already has a sting in her tale. “Does Garavel often consult with you? I would have guessed he was a more worldly sort of man, for my part.”
The unspoken question, So what did you talk about? hangs in the air.
"Dashki is a gnoll expert and knows the area." Father Zastoran tells.
On looking for signs of which deity Father Zastoran worships, she notices the black and white mask, the symbol of Nethys peering out of a pocket. "I'm here to keep those from dying that the guards couldn't keep from that in the first place. But don't you dare come to me with a bruise. I'm no nurse."
Sending another puff of smoke to on it's way he continues "Spiritual guide I'm only for Almah. Most here are not the pious folk. But tell me, what's your god to get you OUT of trouble."
"I will, thank you." With that Ibhrim turned away from the mercenaries. They were about as talkative as most of their kind appeared to be.
He then went back to rendezvous with the others to see if they found anything and share his thoughts about Dashki. When he sees them still talking to the priest he tries to sign for them to come over so they can talk without the man butting in.
Tariq pays close attention to the cleric's words, trying to discern the most he can about him.
When he has an opening, he tries to engage, asking directly. "Sorry, Father. I'm Tariq, faithful servant of the Dawnflower. May I ask you, Father, who do you serve?"
"I'm a follower of Nethys, the All Seeing Eye. I'm a curiosity with that in the land where the followers of Sarenrae are plentiful." Zastoran jokes.
Sending another puff of smoke to on it's way he continues "Spiritual guide I'm only for Almah. Most here are not the pious folk. But tell me, what's your god to get you OUT of trouble."
Aithaloessa is pleased to get as good as she gives, though she has to bite her lip in mock thoughtfulness. “Mm. Depends on the trouble, doesn’t it? At least sometimes.”
She does give a straight answer, though, “Mainly Yuelral. I don’t need to tell a follower of the All-Seeing Eye that there’s something to be said for thinking one’s way out of a problem, of course, though I must confess I’m still working on acquiring the art of magic, for that next step of imagination.”
She also notes that Zastoran deflected her question about Garavel, but there’s time to worry about that later – she spots Ibhrim looking like he’s got something to discuss, so she takes her leave and heads over to join him.
There is not much walking to do as the camp is only about 50 yards in diameter. And Dashki is always lurking in the shadows somewhere. Not in the open, but also not really hidden.
When Aitha joins him Ibhrim speaks, his voice dropped to a whisper. "Those I spoke with are pointing fingers at Dashki. I saw him rushing away when I was trying to figure out who would be potential witnesses. I think we should question him but I'm not sure he is the one we want. I think he might just an easy scapegoat."