"Uh, yes. But it is his associates that we will need to find. Do you know the Bone Quarter, Quil?"
"The Bone Quarter? It's the poorest part of the city, and the most spread-out. It's where the Varisia caravans come in and out as well. Some people will just assume that a thief came from that quarter."
At least we are sure the murderer didn't care for material wealth. A ghost has no use for gold. You know the town better than us, dear Quil: do the position of the houses of the murdered form a pattern? Do they have something in common, like the same builders or the same family who might have lived in each house years ago?? That's just a theory, I'm just throwing ideas around...
She shrugs, "I, no, I don't think so. No, nothing stands out to me like that." She look pensive, "I was going to show you one more house. Would you like to see it?"
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"Uh, the ghost herself has told us that she is in thrall to a necromancer holding her family hostage. Such a crime cannot go unpunished. Humush Mum must be granted the sleep that she has been denied."
Sleeping Sword looks to Ashwell. "Here is a wand with a mage armour spell. Please be so good as to employ its magic upon me if I should ask." The old monk bows to the undine.
"Yes, we should see the last house also."
A group of drunken Ulfen men, all uproariously drunk and red in the face, pile out of a pub before you as you pass through the city streets. A loud man at the front eyeballs you for a second and then jabs a fat finger at you all: “Strangers, eh? You must be working for that witch, Yngvilda! I heard she’d been bringing in foreigners to try and steal her father’s throne away from Uldren, the rightful heir.”
Another of the group shouts, "Geld the bastards!"
Sleeping Sword
Lukaas
Urzaia
Jivandrunken brutes
Ash
Dana
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"Uh, drunks. Knock them out or disable them, but do not kill them lest we be seen as taking sides in the succession conflict!" Sleeping Sword says to his comrades.
"Uh, want no part in your civil dispute gentlemen" the old monk says as he walks forwards seemingly as unsteady on his feet as the drunks. Sleeping Sword sways from side to side, but leaves his blade in its scabbard.
The Hunger connects you. Feel their presence. Sense their lifeblood.
The monk holds up one hand in a placatory gesture and smiles, forgetting that his teeth are sharp and crooked.
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With Sleeping Sword's polite words and Lukaas' charming smile, the crowd slopes off in search of another pub.
The last crime scene Quil leads you to is the home of Gebnirnar Tath, in Kalsgard’s Bone Quarter. A small house tucked away behind a warehouse down a quiet street.
A thorough search of the house by Ashwell reveals no sign of forced entry. All the windows and doors are locked and bolted. Quil has a key and lets you in, "The church is holding the keys until the house can be sold, and I'm not allowing that until this investigation gives us some answers."
Urzaia finds a stack of letters sitting on one table, all of them reminders of overdue debts. Some of them have a rather hostile tone. A quick estimate reveals that Gebnirnar was likely several thousand dollars in debt to a wide variety of creditors.
An oak chest tucked away beneath Gebnirnar’s bed is spotted by Sleeping Sword. It contains a carefully folded, elaborate, and fairly expensive looking costume, sized for a gnome, depicting a two‑headed linnorm. The wearer’s arms form the creature’s twin necks, allowing his hands to operate its heads, each of which is a sophisticated puppet, capable of elaborate eye and mouth movements. The puppet heads even include an apparatus for spitting “fire” in the form of brightly-colored red and orange streamers. Quil sees it and smiles sadly, "Every year, on the first Fireday of Desnus, the gnomes of Kalsgard hold a mock “Linnorm Hunt” for the local children. Gebnirnar attended the event every year."
Jivan however, focuses on the evidence he is sure must be here, and he is correct. A message has been scrawled on the floor of the living room, a few feet from the body, in a very faint, almost invisible substance, which reads, “He me. I the gh t of Hu h Mum. A ne oma er is oldi my fa ly hos e an f r ng m to ki . They a e in t eme t of 23 M in La . S e em.”
Yet more ectoplasm, although this patch seems faded and is difficult to read.
Speaking to one of the children, they grin and give a playful laugh when asked about Gebnirnar. “He was real funny. And good at hiding! Lotsa times, I saw big scary men looking for him, saying he owed them, but he would always laugh, trick them, and get away. He looked like he was having a lot of fun!” The child then frowns sadly. “But I haven’t seen him for a long time now. Did he get caught?”
Quil's eyes widen, "You've found an address?! Yes, yes, I know Marlin Lane. It's not half an hour from here."
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"We will not need to find the missing painting. When the others are ready, Quill, take us to number 23 Marlin Lane."
Sleeping Sword looks down at the sheathed weapon in his hands - an enchanted skymetal katana, worth more than all Gebnirnar's debts. That I should own such a thing, when a good man like Gebnirnar gives what he cannot afford to bring joy to children... Empress of Heaven, guide the hand that wields the killing tool that it may bring justice and peace.
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Respectfully, Lukaas answers the children
I guess he had to skip town for a while, to bring smiles on other children faces, carrying with him the sweet memories of your laughters, games and jokes..
It's a small lie, or at least a partial truth, but it's not the time or my place to speak the whole truth.
Quil leads you to Marlin Lane. She is very quiet during the journey and keeps on checking that you are all walking beside her. The day is getting late as you approach the building.
This old wooden house has clearly seen better days, and sags slightly to one side under the weight of accumulated snow. One of the windows is broken, and another has been boarded up. A faint scent of mildew can be detected from several yards away.
The house has clearly been abandoned for some time. The main floor lacks for anything of note, and is largely empty.
"What! I, um, What?" The gnome looks baffled at Jivan's question.
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"The ghost's message says the family is being kept in the basement. Those gouges suggest something heavy has been moved over the door."
Sleeping Sword looks to see if a heavy object might lie nearby, not wanting to get trapped himself. As he casts his gaze about he sees Quil's disquiet.
"Uh, Jivan? If Quil knew of any connection I am sure she would have told us. Her distress is clear.
Quil, you should remain here when we descend."
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Jivan tosses the copper piece into the air, catching it without seeming to pay much attention to it. "Well, the dead so far have included a person who stood to collect a great deal of money from your church--money that their heirs wouldn't be able to get; someone who owed substantial amounts to the casino, so it's convenient that the church can take possession of his house after his death; and one who had just won a large jackpot, only to have her belongings stolen after her death. It is clear that your church has benefited from at least two of those deaths--we don't know for certain who might have ransacked her house. Not that I suspect you, of course, but...." He shrugs. "It does look suspicious. Tell me...if we were to ask Venture-Captain Torrsen the name of the first dead gnome, what would he tell us?"
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If it seems dark inside, Lukaas cast a minor spell to get some light, then another, to check for magical auras
Let's check the place. I don't think Quil would led a troupe of Pathfinders through a list of hints of clues that would incriminate her and her church. That would be most inconvenient to her, when she could have said nothing to our Venture Captains and reap the monetary rewards. There is probably a link to her church, but I seriously doubt she is either culprit or accomplice. "Scapegoat" is the word springing to my mind. So probably the necromancer wants to get his revenge while using what she holds dear the most. A sore loser, if I may say so. Do you remember such a person, someone who could maybe have lost more money that they could tolerate, Quil?
Quil looks on the verge of tears, "Torrsen? What would he say? He'd probably tell you to ask me."
Her face becomes more grim as Lukaas speaks, "Um, I don't know. I..." She shakes her head as if to clear away a fog, "No, you don't understand. The gambling: it has to be real, to be meaningful, if it's going to work. It has to. But only on an individual level. Do you see?"
She looks at Jivan, and the rest of you, "It has to be a real risk and a real reward. Jaded cynicism does not keep the bleaching at bay, nor does desperate starvation." She takes a breath, a long sigh, followed by a hint of a self-deprecating laugh, "We don't make a profit. We don't worry about people who win big. Our profits go back into the community and we never offer winnings that we cannot repay."
She exhales slowly and looks up at the falling snow, "Gebnirnar Tath did not owe any gambling debts to the Hall of Seven Wagers. Oh, no. He would never have dodged a debt to Nivi Rhombodazzle. There are other people in the city who will take wagers." The gnome cleric pats her hands together to keep them warm, "Maybe Gebnirnar could have found better ways to keep his edge? Maybe we opened a door he should have kept closed." She shrugs, "Who can say?"
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Lukaas silently offers a silk and clean handerchief to the gnome lady in distress
I truly apologise if my words offended you.I've heard stories about gnomes, meet a few ones, but they do have a particular mindset, and the Bleaching is quite a frightening curse. So let me ask this in simlple terms, as a theory: do you believe that someone could have gone mad with the threat of Bleaching, and turned to a murderer, to get his thrills, as horrible as it sounds? Could it be possible?
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Jivan has the grace to look abashed. "Ah, forgive me. My background makes me perhaps inclined to see crime where there is only coincidence. When you said that the church was holding the title to his house, I assumed that the church also held his debts." He runs a hand over his wayfinder and sets it to glowing, then holds up his copper piece. "I am ready."