Samen does indeed turn on detect magic.
"Thank you for asking, but what more could I need?" He scans the remains as well as the mercenaries. "Hmmm, what trickery is this? Enchantment magic, masked by abjuration? I have heard of such things, but who has the resources to bother with it?"
Samen investigates the skin more closely, trying to understand what creature it came from. With the things no longer moving, scientific curiosity has seamlessly replaced thuggish violence. "Who do you suppose has been innovating on the designs of the Tango? Do you suppose they have the resources to do it themselves, or is this another group carrying on their work?"
Osna swears under his breath as he can't get any useful answer from his fellow Happyswords.
"I don't like that at all either. This is a lot of resources just to throw this kind of creature at us. I agree with Iniga, there must have been a second step to this plan, but I can't figure what for now."
He directs the mercenaries to keep watch while he returns to the skinned creature and the remaining skin flaps. "Let's have a deeper look at the runed or arcane marks on that creature. Maybe we can figure out where does this ritual comes from.”
You carefully search. Besides the Captain's normal armor and weapons--fine and magical though they are--there is only one item of note: a finely crafted glass vial, small enough to be easily palmed, complete with a screw-on dropper. There is a malicious-looking yellow fluid in the vial.
Though you do not know what this stuff is at first sight, you realize almost immediately you have discovered a clue, a lead. Glasswork this fine only comes from one place is Hearth, and you know it: "Old Owl Eyes", the name of an enchanter's shop in the southwestern Charlatan's Quarters.
Phon lifts a hand up, "No matter. It was better for me to ask before whatever it was may have gotten into you." Hearing Samen speak about the magic, she opens her eyes and feels the traces, impressed by the el's skills. "It seems you have some understanding of the craft."
She thinks, "I do not know who's design this could have been, in fact I cannot really speak to it with any certainty." The warpriest moves to the body and searches it for any clues that are not rooted in magic.
"I'm hoping to find something here to help." Not unused to liquids, she deftly sifts her hands through whatever was left, though she was thankful for her heavy gauntlets.
"A new elen race with aspects of subterfuge appearing nearly at the same time as the Tango upping their clandestine skills? Does that seem suspicious to anyone else? And why, given all that investment, would the fake-captain give away her position so quickly?"
He looks around the room at the collected individuals, especially Osna and Phon Vos. "How do we know we can trust each other? Even supposing we had a prior reason to trust each other, how can we ferret out who may or may not be replaced in the future?"
Together with Phon, Osna searches the body. There were weapons, remains of armor. But among the gory remains, he spots a small vial containing a strange and malicious yellow liquid. The vial is finely crafted with a screw-on dropper.
"Ah! Now we have something!", he says showing the vial to Phon. "I don't know for sure what's inside, but there's just one single place in hearth where you buy this kind of vials. In the far end of the Shops District, we call this part the Charlatan's Quarters, there's an enchanter's shop called the "Old Owl Eyes". That's where this thing comes from. It may not be a lot but maybe we can go there and figure out if they've seen the Captain, when and what was she doing there?"
Hearing Samen last comment, he raises his head :"The simple answer is for now, we don't know who we can trust. And until we get a better grip of the situation, we won't know."
Phon thought about it, "I have a good sense of these things. I have been blessed in that my touch can conduit me directly to the gods, and they can provide information. Ifrits, oreads, undines and slyphs... We are all a part of this and one of Them in the Pantheon would know." She shrugged, "I can always prepare magic to also look, though it would be short lived." Fiddling with Osna, Phone continues to speak firmly, "Whether or not you can even trust my information would be up to you, but I have spent a lot of time studying, I'm not just some brute."
The warrior-priest changes the subject when Osna shows her the vial. "We have our lead at least, it will be your choice to come with us or not, but Osna and I will be marching forward to understand what is happening."
Samen smiles. "How nice is it to get frank responses to honest questions? While a magical solution would be ideal, why not something more practical, like a cypher, code, or password? 'Margherita' didn't really seem herself, did she? Do you think whatever intelligence possessed her had access to her mind?"
"Shall we join them Iniga?"
Samen gestures to the door, indicating that he is ready and willing to follow.
"I doubt that whatever it was had access to her mind. If it did, she wouldn't have tried to flee when I raised...inconsistencies on her story. I don't think we need a specific code to know who is who if we stick together - which is probably a wise strategy regardless. I think we should go to the enchanter's shop and check it out. It seems likely that it would have been the place 'Margherita' might have taken us to be her 'witch'" Iniga responds, thoughtfully thinking things through.
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Osna raises up and offers the vial to Phon Vos.
"Maybe it's better you keep it. We need to figure out what's inside at some point."
He smiles to Samen and Iniga. "I'm happy to we are on the same line for getting to the end of that situation. If you don't mind, I propose we let our mercenaries deal with the authorities and ward our second in command. In the mean time, as we've agreed, we can go and see this shop. I suggest we do a quick reconnaissance around the shop and ask a few shopkeeper around if they've seen someone looking like the Captain going into the "Old Owl Eyes".
Stone-faced Fillipo, Margherita's second-in-command for nearly a decade, frowns in acquiescence to this. His only betrayal of emotion of a second look back at the peeled skin.
Outside of Duke's inn, you are surrounded by the Military district, orderly rows of barracks and smithies and depots and beerhalls. To the south, a massive tree--what can only be a Quiet Elder--looms incongruously among the ifrit architecture. To the southwest, the Grand Temple of Hearth, holy obsidian from Volcano's own body as a sign of His power in the land. To the far north, beyond the city walls, past distant charcoal deserts, Volcano gives off cleansing light to all elens. The morning peaklight is ember red.
And further still to the northeast, the faint grin of a Smiling Moon over the city of Light.
You go due west to avoid both Elder and Temple. When you reach the northern edge of the Obsidian Mansions, you turn south on Comici Strada, past several brightly lit theater houses advertising the classic comedies and dramas that are playing tonight. Away from the entertainment avenues, the glittering Shops district opens before you. Broad walkways and pleasant little cafes open even in winter, cups of coffee steaming in the cold air. Couples walking arm in arm, window shopping even at this early hour. A few brightly-adorned guards with a golden V on their armor, strutting and confident.
Finally past the grander shoppes and the jeweler's lanes, the streets slowly show more signs of disrepair. There are a few shuttered shops, the remains of a broken cart down an alley. Hand-painted signs speak of fortune-telling and powerful magic. No guards here.
And amidst these decaying wooden buildings--completely out of place--stands a two-story block of stone and mortar. Carved out of the stone archway above the entrance are the words: Old Owl Eyes.
Phon pockets the vial, finding a place within her plate for it, wrapping it into a safe cushion. "Understood. When we have some time to look at it, I can work alongside Samen here to discover it's properties." She lifts a hand, "A valid point Iniga. Mercifully, it will do nothing but help us to learn whatever we can."
Gathering her things, Phon puts her helm back on, "Let us head toward the Old Owl. Osna do you care to take point as normal?" She took to asking Osna, while it was difficult to throw off their old status and training, she knew it would help ease the Slyph's more formal natures.
Before Osna has a chance to answer, the thick wooden door opens. Standing in the doorway is an older sylph, slightly hunched, though still tall. He wears a long white suit-coat, complete with a well-knotted white tie, and a large pair of round, scuffed glasses. His eyebrows are bushy.
"I say, right on time! Are you delivering my stoppers? Did they send two boxes, or just one?" He has not seemed to notice your weapons or demeanors.
Samen gets right to the point. "What sort of business is this? Have you sold goods to anyone of a suspicious nature?"
Osna winces at the direct tone of Samen but goes with the flow and adds in the same tone in Sylph:
"Yes, more precisely, one of our friends got intoxicated with one of your potions. You know, the ones in the small glass vials with stoppers that only come from your shop. So we wanted to see you before someone ended up going to the authorities."
Phon was thankful for the helm hiding her confusion at Samen and Osna's wince.
"Perhaps we should speak inside, matters like these are better suited for the indoors than bustling streets."
The old el simply stares at the lot of you, mouth agog. "What? Where are my stoppers then?" You are unsure if he is hard of hearing or simply slow to understand.
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One time, today. Not twice
Osna focuses on the old man, trying to figure out if that was another transformed creature or just a hard hearing el.
He then grabs him by a shoulder and pivots him towards the shop entrance.
While he does that, his second arm disappears under his cloak and he gets ready to palms the dagger hidden in his sleeve.
He nods, ushering you inside. The sounds of the street disappear behind the thick door and solid walls. You are in a gray, featureless room, essentially a box of granite. There are three open doorways that lead to other, similar rooms. There is the sound of rushing air somewhere nearby.
"Hoot!"
The old el turns to the hooting sound, several rooms away. "Not now!"
Back to Osna now, "Now what is this all about? Complaining about a sale? I stand by all the products of my labor, young el, and for you to come barging in here-"
Samen considers remaining quiet. It's usually better that way, but he just can't seem to help himself and interjects into the chaotic conversation. "Why do you think we're accusing you of something wrong with your products? Have you not thought that it might be one of your customers we're interested in?"
Iniga rolls her eyes in frustration, grabs the el by the upper arm and slams him into the nearby wall. "I dont give a damn about your stoppers. Someone came by pretending to be my friend, lied to me, and then tried to kill me and my friends. So now I don't know what happened to my actual friend, or where she is and you are standing here, complaining to me about stoppers".
Iniga pauses for breath for a moment before continuing with exaggerated calm. "So, why don't you tell me everything about those little glass vials you sell with yellow liquid or so help me, I will give you something to complain about."
Phon steps in and lets Iniga handle the old el, she does a quick look around hoping to find anything of note.
She stood vigilant, the metal of her gauntlets tightening around themselves on the chance of violence breaking out.
Osna follows Phon's watchfulness and backs towards a wall, trying to keep sight of all the doors while Iniga and Samen talk to the old El, especially the one from which the hooting sound came from.
The old el immediately stops talking and looks at Iniga, terrified at the threat. "Umm. Yellow liquid. Special glass vials. Right, I had done business before with these fellows, used to deal more in steam experiments..." He shakes his head when he sees Iniga frowning with impatience. "Yes, alright! I recognized the patron priest of the v'Apore family. That's who ordered them - paid plenty of gold, but I suppose a v' doesn't have to worry about money like the rest of us." He ends on this sour note, unaware of Iniga's surname.
Phon Vos, you see more medium-sized rooms, all connected to each other, all with drab granite walls, housing various minutiae : air tubes, stoppers, some kind of lightning orb, beakers, fulminations, and smoking potions among them. No sign of the creature that hooted.
"The v'Apore familly? Eh! I wonder what they are dipping their fingers in, now that most of the steam has gone.", Osna wonders aloud.
"Can you tell us when they brought that lot of vials and what's in it?"
Osna keeps his vigil throughout the interrogation.
Phon gently moves her hands across the shelves as she listens in, hoping to mostly take a look into one of the rooms for anything out of the ordinary.
Hearing about the v'Apores, Phon's ears perk up. "I don't need to know exactly what they ordered, but did anything strike you as strange with the interaction?"
Answering Osna first, the old el says, "I do not know at all. They brought the stuff in a larger glass vat, and needed my smaller, more delicate pieces. They gave the specifications, paid me well, and did not look kindly upon questions."
Rather than answering Phon Vo's question, he asks querulously, "Are you wandering about my shop?"
Shouting now to the disembodied hooting voice, "Ferruginous! Has she stolen anything?"
"Hoot!" from an unclear direction.
The shopkeeper seems skeptical at this. "Fine. Yes, well, what was strange was being ordered to make containers for a mysterious liquid for an inquisitor-" he stops, corrects himself, "for a priest. Ahem. So the entire affair was strange, in my opinion! Now if there isn't anything else I prefer you to be on your way!"
Throughout this exchange, Samen is content to contribute further by merely looking creepy. Clearly the rest of the group is better suited to extracting usable information from this situation, though he does raise an eyebrow at the verbal slip.
"Well, that's enough for me. We'll have to figure out what's in it on our own. But I would warn you against working with the v'Apor familly again. One person died already today and my feeling is that it's going to escalate quickly. You may meet sooner or later someone wanting to cover their traces and remove eyewitnesses."
He looks at his old and newfound companions: "Anything else ? Phon, do you think you could use this gentleel's equipment to identify the content ? With adequate compensation, of course. Or can you do it on your own?"
Frowning a little, he snaps his fingers twice and mutters "Maybe that stuff helped camouflage the magic aura... Some kind of arcane ward..."
Samen looks around and tries to make sense of the different items in the shop.
Iniga frowns for a moment at the mention of an inquisitor before letting the el go, dusting herself off as she does so. "Personally, I'd recommend you tell us if you get any more business from the v'Apor family . In the meantime, keep little visit to yourself and maybe we can find a way to ensure some more legitimate business comes your way in future."
"Not a problem." She hadn't used alchemy equipment for a while, mainly just to create simple battlefield remedies, but she stumbles into Samen during the process. "Anything seem out of place Samen?" She learned quickly that a second opinion was always valuable, assuming one was able to sift through it.
Theme/flavor of magic: Volcano, specifically from the Plane of Fire, Igniscoeli
Effect: mind control. Permanent domination, possibly with no chance to fight back (unsure).
Dosing (from Alchemy check: due to its subtlety, it takes several doses to actually take hold (it would suddenly go from no effect to full effect). You think you have enough to take full control of one elen over the course of a week or two.
"Hoot," the sound louder now.
The old sylph looks at Iniga sheepishly. "I don't think he likes your tone. I know," he holds his hands up, "he's much too finicky, especially before he's had his mashed crickets for the day, but trust me when I say he is nonetheless quite touchy about my person. Miss...whoever you are. You are all quite rude, do you know that?"
"Hmmm, you see the runes and etchings here, and here? Do you see the classic patterns for controlling the flow of fire magic? See how it matches this tattoo? What reagents must be necessary for this confluence of elementalism and alchemy?"
"Hoot," the sound louder now.
The old sylph looks at Iniga sheepishly. "I don't think he likes your tone. I know," he holds his hands up, "he's much too finicky, especially before he's had his mashed crickets for the day, but trust me when I say he is nonetheless quite touchy about my person. Miss...whoever you are. You are all quite rude, do you know that?"
"On that your are quite right. We are all mightily testy this morning and you are correct to point it. But please bear in mind that we have just witnessed one of our friend and companion die before our eyes with only that vial of yours as a reason for her death. Other people may have shown a lot less restraint than us."
"Hmmm, you see the runes and etchings here, and here? Do you see the classic patterns for controlling the flow of fire magic? See how it matches this tattoo? What reagents must be necessary for this confluence of elementalism and alchemy?"
She recoils. Mind control?
Phon eyes Samen, "You can see it right? It can control the flow of flames but not just that..." The warrior-priest chose to not say anything else but instead tried to direct Samen to the same conclusion as she.
"I'm not sure what would be required. This is just preliminary." Phon was ignoring the shopkeeper, Iniga and Osna could handle any possible issues.
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Samen strokes his chin, not quite seeing it. "More than flames? What else?"
He takes a mental step back from the potion itself and considers what he's seen today. A friend turned mad and inside out. Soldiers dumbfounded by the smallest details. "This isn't meant to aid the imbiber, is it? Perhaps it deadens the will to ease manipulation?"
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"Oooh. Is that why Gimlet and half-Blind couldn't remember anything? And maybe she was planning to use it on all of us during the meeting."
Osna comes to the realization of the possible wide use of this substance.
"And they have hundreds of vials of it? What are they planning to do with it? Overturn once again the City Council and put the Inquisition back in charge ?"
"And I'm still confused about something. Was that the Captain at the tavern who got somehow turned or something that replaced her and she is still alive somewhere?"
He realizes too late that they are still in the Enchanter shop and shuts up. "If we are done here, maybe we should move out elsewhere to discuss and plan."
The old el looks confused, and seems not to follow half the conversation. "Who said anything about hundreds of vials? I said they paid gold and had a bigger vat of the stuff, but it couldn't have filled more than ten of fifteen. There was a lot of sediment, at the bottom you see. I think it was some kind of oxidated cooper powder, perhaps tinctured with a bit of..."
Wamblee, who has been silent and watchful against the granite walls until this point, says to Iniga, voice low, "Cousin, I cannot feel or see the creature that has been making those hooting sounds, but nonetheless my instinct says it is large and unhappy. Perhaps we should go?"
"In a moment cousin" Iniga responds to Wamblee's remarks, refocusing her attention on the old el. "You know what the vials contain? What are the ingredients? How easy are they to obtain?"
Phon ceases to listen, she wasn't good enough with alchemy to be able to follow the rambling el. If more of this comes, I will consult with the divine to find the truth. She noted that she would leave some magical power available in the future to help solve this mystery should they come across any vials.
"You have been a great help so far."
"I just recognized the precipitate, young lady, not the entire mixture. For Sky's sake, one cannot identify the properties and reagents of a complex potion based on sight alone!" The old el's creaky voice is sharp and irritated.