You find Brinya in an unenviable state, the half-orc's face wracked with grief. Her eyes are puffy from crying and she wipes away fresh tears with the sleeve of her dress. She listens to Brogann's questions with her head bowed, as though her thick auburn hair could serve as some kind of barrier. When she answers, she reaches up to touch the hopeblade that hangs from a chain around her neck.
"I don't know about problems, other than the arguments with his father. I know he'd been preoccupied lately with an investigation, he called it his 'greatest work'. I couldn't tell you any more about that though, since he wouldn't share the details with me."
She breaks down, sobbing, and it is several moments before she can continue. "I always loved his writing. It was romantic, so full of soul. It's what first brought him to my attention. I can't imagine why somebody would want to hurt him for that."
"I know he kept a journal, but I couldn't tell you where to be sure. There's his room at the Ramblehouse, but he'd also write at the Sanctuary. He'd always claimed that he had a thoughtful muse there."
Cetan's eyes narrow as he focuses on her mannerisms.
She clutches her hopeknife... surely she doesn't intend to join him so quickly...
We thank you for your answers in this difficult time. We'll go immediately to check those places for a journal. We'll let you know as soon as we figure out how this happened.
As they leave, and are outside again Cetan mentions his observation to Kurst and asks that he watch over Brinya a little longer.
"Thank you, Brinya. The fact that he had an investigation he could not tell you about suggests that he did in fact discover something dangerous. And by setting us on the trail, you may have done a great thing for Trunau.
We will follow up and let you know what we find."
Brogann also leaves - he does not appear concerned in the way that Cetan does, but says nothing as the tielfing goes to speak to Kurst.
Sigrun doesn't participate in the questioning. She just leans against the wall with her thumbs jammed into her belt. When it's time to leave she walks over to Brinya and takes a knee. Putting her hand on the woman's shoulder, she looks her straight in the eyes.
"Someone will pay for this. We will find out who."
Then Sigrun stands and follows the others out.
Do you have someone to protect you? If your lover was killed, and was killed because this investigation of his, maybe you culd be the killer next target... Someone who could want to silence you, without being sure you knew anything or not first...
"Lets get moving on to Rodrik's room to check it out."
Rodrik's room looks similar to how Sigrun first found it: a spartan room containing only a single cot and a writing desk. The cot is a cheap affair with a straw-stuffed mattress, stripped of its linens and stained with blood. The desk is slightly nicer, but chipped and worn with time.
If given a thorough search...
Receipt of Purchase
------------------
Customer: Rodrik Grath
Order: One (1) hopeknife
Additional Options:
- Engraving: X
- Silver:
- Matching Sheath:
[i]Engraving should read "For Rodrik, my love"
------------------
Smith: Chayton
Cetan mostly disregards the proceeding comments as they leave Brinya's place. Sure it's a hard life here, but loved ones left behind usually need time to greave, to process.
Time to give Rodrik's room a more thorough once-over...
He gets bogged down in irrelevant details and doesn't come up with useful clues.
"This isnae even a proper kip," Schwertleite scoffs under her breath as she pushes her way past all the tall folks and examines the bloodstained bed.
Gabsen searches the place thoroughly, finding first a small note for a purchase at Morninghawk, then a small hidden drawer in the desk.
someone already emptied the drawer. It seems Rodrik bought a hopeknife recently
"Why would he have bought a Hopeknife?
We should go talk to Sara Morninghawk."
Sigrun shoots Gabsen an ugly glare.
She tells Brinya "If you think you might need help I am also at the Ramblehouse and on the same floor as Rodrik's room. Come find me or send word."
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Sigrun also looks around the room more carefully this time, including under the mattress, and checking it for any sign it was cut open to hide things inside it.
"No Journal? I think that would be the kind of thing he would always have with him. Maybe someone removed it from the room?"
Cetan appears worried by Sigrun's observation. I hadn't thought of that.
Hmm, that is most suspicious. If we ever find one we should be wary of possible modifications. That would be just the place where someone would might try to create the justification for a suicide.
If he bought an Hopeknife, why didn't he use it for his so called "suicide"? And why isn't it still there? This is just plain murder.
"Again, why would he have bought a Hopeknife?
He would have received one when he came of age. Just as Ruby did.
There was a bloody Hopeknife on the floor nearby, so yes, it does appear that he used one for his 'suicide' - or was killed by one while unconscious."
"It looks he placed an order for a Hopeknife... engraved to himself? That doesn't make any sense.
We should talk to Sara Morninghawk about this order, and also ask to see the Hopeknife that was found in the room."
"Sure, makes sense. Let's go find out what she can tell us."
"Sae then he obviously bought th' hope-claymore fur someone else." Schwertleite shakes her head. "That seems ah kent that awreedy, even if his engraved message is kinda self-centered." She follows
Sigrún and Brogann out the door, obviously leading from the rear.
The Clamor is not far from the Ramblehouse — also on the lower level, just down the road from Trunau's singular inn. Although technically named "Morninghawk's Fine Steel", nobody in town calls it that, opting instead for the descriptive nickname due to the constant pounding of hammers that thunders from it during the daytime hours.
You find Sara eying the blade of a half-finished dagger skeptically, one of her several apprentices hovering anxiously nearby. "What is this then?" she asks her employee, gesturing to a set of notches in the blade near the base of the blade.
"Uh... serration," the apprentice replies, glancing nervously to the party. "For..."
"I know what it's for, Urnsul, but look here and here." She points to something too fine for you to see at this distance. "You've cracked the steel. This knife will break as soon as you try to use it." She shoves the piece back towards her apprentice. "Reforge it and do it right this time."
She notices the party approach and nods back towards the street. "Out there," she shouts over the din.
When everybody is outside, Sara crosses her heavily muscled arms, but her face softens. "How goes the investigation?"
Brogann nods to Sara Morninghawk.
"Sara. Rodrik ordered a Hopeknife from you. Engraved to himself.
Why would he have ordered one? Wouldn't he have been given one when he came of age?
And why engraved to himself?
My guess is that Brinya gave him such a Hopeknife and he lost it.
Was the order fulfilled?
I am trying to figure out if he even had a Hopeknife last night. One was found by his body, true. But if he didn't have one, then he was murdered and the murderer placed it there."
Sara squints at receipt, her eyes adjusting from the dim forge to the afternoon light of the street. "He ordered it a little over a week ago and I didn't ask. Seemed like he wanted some discretion. I have it in the shop, waiting for the engraving. I'd intended to get to it today, but..." She frowns. "I can fetch it, if you'd like."
Schwertleite nods approvingly at Brogun's guess. "Aye, that's some quick thinking. Whit aboot th' claymore he wis fun wi'? Ony engravings or markings oan it that tis creator cuid recognize?"
Or he thought he lost it and it had really been stolen for the... deed. Cetan mutters, continuing to think about the details that don't add up.
"Yes Schwertleite, it would be good to find the Hopeknife that he was found with. As Cetan points out, it might have been the one that Rodrik thought he lost... or not. If the militia took it along with Rodrik's body, we might be able to get a look at it."
Brogann looks rather annoyed at the prospect of having to pass a request even up through Trunau's minimal chain of command. He's also dreading the possibility that the militia lost it. Sigrún's insinuations of the militia's lack of professionalism do stick with him. They're not exactly the First Guard of Absalom.
"We also need to check out the Sanctuary, since Rodrik did his writing there sometimes. Might be that we could find his journal."
Brogann sounds more enthusiastic about checking out the Sanctuary than about counting on the Militia's competence and assistance.
Cetan grimaces at the prospect of dealing with militia structure.
As I think you would prefer, let's see what we can find at the sanctuary first. The more evidence we have, the better we can convince them that our need is sound.
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Sigrun is too busy trying to inconspicuously catch a glimpse of Chayton to see what he's doing to pay attention to the conversation about the knife. As tempted as she is to drop in on him and say hello, she knows from what he's said in the past Sara doesn't tolerate slack and she doesn't want to get him in trouble.
She leaves the smithy not knowing what they're doing next and faking total, informed agreement with whatever it is.
Sanctuary stands out among its surroundings, a fortified chapel of mortared stone and reinforced doors that serves as the only true church within Trunau. Sanctuary is split between a pair of large halls, the first serving as the primary locus of Iomedae's worship. The second hall houses Sanctuary's small staff of clerics and paladins, and serves as a clinic in times of emergency.
Your entry into the chapel halts a conversation between a man and a woman, both human.
"Please continue looking, Brother Calderon," the woman says, before turning to greet you. Young, with tanned skin and dark hair pulled back into a simple braid, she wears a white vestment with the sunburst and sword symbol of Iomedae embroidered on her chest in yellow thread. The man, armed and wearing armor that also bears Iomedae's symbol, nods and moves to the exit, although he lingers to see what these newcomers might want.
"May the light of the Inheritor shine upon you," the priestess intones, smiling. "How may her servants aid you today?"
The man is Brantos Calderon, a paladin and errant knight of Iomedae. He arrived in Trunau with Tyari and has remained a steadfast supporter of the priestess.
The tiefling steps forward, unaware of how his devilish appearance might be off-putting in a place like this.
Yes. You see we are investigating the recent... incident. We've been told that Rodrik would spend time here, and wanted to see if he left any writing behind in the sanctuary. Or, perhaps, he had interesting conversation with church-goers here before his demise?
Brogann knows Brantos Calderon. A former Pathfinder colleague, Sir Quentin the Bald, had hoped that Brogann could keep an eye on Brantos while in town and make sure the paladin is doing well. Brogann meets up with Brantos for a drink about once a week or so.
It is no mystery why the paladin moved to Trunau, but many of his order thought it was 'irregular'. Placing love over duty, some said. Maybe they worry he will lose his faith now that he is distant from the hierarchy. But isn't that the point of a paladin, that they go out into the world to right wrongs instead of taking orders? And there is a need for such as he in this place. I'll take any day an Iomedan at my side fighting against orcs.
Brogann nods to the paladin as Brantos moves away. "Good to see you, Brantos. Stay for a bit if you would - we may have need of honorable allies. And you may be able to help."
The war-wizard can tell that Cetan is trying to play it safe in case the Iomedans are not trustworthy.
Oh, come on. These two are annoyingly Good.
Still, he tries to humor the tiefling by not spilling all the information.
"Yes, Tyari... something was troubling Rodrik, and we'd like to know what it was. We think his journal might be here."
Schwertleite nods approvingly at the two sensible humans - well, sensible enough to worship a god of duty and valor. Those were honorable concepts, even if Iomedae was infinitely younger than Torag and thus less of a tactician who espoused headlong charges into danger rather than striking from a defensible position. What can you do though - they're only human.
Brogann seems to know the people at the sanctuary so Sigrun picks at her nails while silently listening in.
Gods.. never believed too much in them. I know a priest can be handy to save your live with its magic, but I have an hard time believing in gods anyway. Maybe it's some other kind of magic, like wizard
Always felt out of place in a church.
Gabsen realises he spoke out loud, to his own surprise.
"Ah'ament surprised," Schwertleite snorts before pausing. "Or mibbie ye juist haven't bin aff tae th' richt kinds o' churches."
Or maybe I lost whatever faith I might had in gods.
Gabsen voice is suddenly tense and sharp, maybe even a little angry.
He grabs instinctively something in his pocket, and tries to calm himself
Apologies for that outburst. That murder must be taking on my nerves more than I supposed.
"We are all on edge, Gabsen," Tyari says, giving the fighter a sympathetic look. "Trunau has always been a violent place, but you expect that from the orcs of Belkzen. Not from somebody within the palisade."
Brantos returns to the high priestess's side, his expression softening at the sight of familiar faces. "I don't know about a journal," Tyari continues. "But the Patrol Captain would often visit to speak with Katrezra, one of our long-term residents, frequently in recent weeks."
She and Brantos share a look before continuing. "Unfortunately, we cannot find Katrezra."
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Cetan squints and focuses on the the look that the two share.
It seems most clues here are unspoken. It will take a long time to learn the local nonverbal customs.
What was that look just then? Do you believe something happened to Katrezra? Where was he last seen?
Bull-rushing right towards the perceived point, he doesn't bother asking who Katrezra is.
And I thought I was blunt.
Brogann says to Cetan, "He's a half-orc mystic or seer or something. I've seen him around before. Seems harmless. But I guess maybe Rodrik had some faith in the visions that Katrezra is rumored to have."
He adds to the goody two-shoes Iomedans, "Yes, as my fearsome-looking friend implies, finding Katreza could help us figure out what Rodrik was looking into."
"A second murder if this person is missing?"
"No one has seen him since last night," Brantos explains. "One of the acolytes saw him going into his room."
"He cannot have gone far," Tyari adds. "His condition causes him considerable pain and drastically limits his ability to get around. In any case, where would he go? He sought sanctuary in Trunau to escape the orcs that crippled him, and he has grown into a devout disciple of the Inheritor."
Then we will check his room. It sounds like he couldn't have gone far.
The tiefling looks about the room to see if the rest of the party is done with business here.
Having bad luck gaining information on his own Sky Voice makes his way to his next target the chapel and runs into the group from the ambush.
"Ah, Thank the wind and the waves I have found you lot. I have had terrible luck on my own. I guess after what has happened the town is less receptive to strangers. Or maybe I said something offensive? Either way I think I will have better luck if I stick with you all from here on out. What have you learned in my absence?" Sky Voice says to his new friends perhaps with a bit too much cheer given recent events.
Brantos shakes his head. "I have already checked his room and all seems in order. He left it neat and orderly. There is no evidence of foul play, or where he has gone."
Cetan frowns.
Is there anyone else in town who saw him often, who perhaps saw him last and could give us clues? It's very difficult to go off of "into thin air," and this is starting to seem like a connected case. Though, I hope he is well and simply truly away.
"Katrezra is half-orc. Perhaps he sought refuge with that community," Brantos offers, although he looks uncertain. "His home was here, and to our knowledge, he had few close friends."
Tyari gives the party a sad smile. "Unfortunately, that is all the insight we can provide for your investigation. Iomedae's light shines on those who seek the truth, however, and you are always welcome at this Sanctuary should you need healing or other assistance from the church."
"We could check with Brinya or with Sara Morninghawk, I suppose.
I would suggest going back to the Clamor and checking with our blacksmith. Perhaps she has seen Katrezra."
He nods to the Iomedans. "Thank you. May your Inheritor grant you strength."
"I would seem you have discovered there is more than just the mystery of a death. Now there are missing peoples? I like not the way things are turning out. I thought this was supposed to be a close community but it seems there are many secrets."
"So who will know people in this half-orc community who might know this Katrezra? Are they all in one place like the halflings?"
I don't like this. A murder, probably disguised as a suicide, was enough. It could have been an isolated accident. Now missing persons? If they aren't the culprits of the murder, running away from the consequences of their actions, or witnesses killed by the real murderer, it could have been a concerted, planned attack from the outside. Call me paranoid if you want..
"So who will know people in this half-orc community who might know this Katrezra? Are they all in one place like the halflings?"
Brantos gives Sigrún a pained look. "I wish I had more to tell you, but Katrezra is known by most folk in Trunau. The half-orc population here is not large, perhaps no more than forty individuals, but I have no guess as to where he might be. His only close associate seemed to be Rodrik."
"When last I saw the two together," Tyari recalls, "they were deep in whispered conversation. I did not linger nearby, but I heard the two say something of ghosts, half-orcs, hopeknives, and white swords. I wish I could offer you more than that."
As you make ready to pursue a different lead, Tyari seems to remember something. "Before you leave, do you want to see Rodrik's body? It was brought here earlier. I used the power of the Inheritor to prevent any decay, so that his father might look upon him one last time when he returns from patrol."
"Sara Morninghawk is a half-orc, as is Brinya; either of those two might know where Katrezra is. Of the two, Brinya is grieving and I would prefer not to bother her without good reason.
Yes Tyari, let us see his body. And if you happen to have the Hopeknife that was found with him, let us see that too."
Sigrun shrugs. Anything's alright with her since she's at a dead end herself.