Katala walks along with Grog. She lets him do the intimidation and just watches and listens.
Finch ignores the patrons, heading directly towards the entrance. She rolls her eyes at Pandir's friendly approach. Everyone knows the barkeep is usually the best person to ask for information—even if they are not themselves knowledgeable about a given subject, they at least know who is. That is also where you get the booze, which is both an important motivator for the requisite human interaction as well as the key to loosening lips.
Of course, for some inconceivable reason, the leshy seemed to like talking to people. "I guess some people like talkin' to plants, too..."
“Yo, salad-face, it would do you some good to just turn around right now. Old Lenky’s promised some barbecue tonight and asked us to pick some herbs and stuff.” The scrawny woman smiles from ear to ear.
“Same goes for you, pint-size,” the elf raises her chin and steps in front of Finch. “We had enough clowns in the Mug today. Go bother someone else.”
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With a flick of her wrist, Finch produces one of her throwing knives out of her sleeve and twirls it around in her fingers. She cranes her neck upwards with a half-sweet, half-deranged smile on her painted lips. "Oh, I think I'll bother whomsoever I godsdamned please. Do you really wanna be first in line, you pointy-eared tub of lard? Unless you're keen on moppin' up your own juices, you'd best wobble the f*ck outta my way..."
Pandir has never thought about how she would taste. Most people don't eat roses, although rosewater is a delicacy. Oh, she would be up to her head in water, strung about like a rag. Oh, they would be terrible.
Pandir is lost in thought as Miss Rosefinch decides to speak to the patrons in her own friendly way. Pandir still doesn't understand her friendly dialect.
Grothog frowns at the scawny woman as Finch handles the bloated one, and growls back, "I'z best be finkin' 'bout movin' away if I'z waz you, o' you'z gonna be krumped so 'ard you'z be sippin' soup thru dregged teef an' a straw as fin as you and all youz grods wont efen tell da diff' when seein' youz krumped & coked wheeza."
Katala stays behind Grothog and quietly casts a spell. Four light appear above the large man and she says, "Just in case it's too dark for you to see clearly. Have a little extra light!"
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The elf is unsure whether to focus on Finch’s disturbing smile, her hurtful comment, the catwoman casting a spell or the menacing orc speaking in tongues and wearing a halo of dancing lights. Being a simple woman just trying to make ends meet as a thug, she fails to say anything and mutters a sequence of sounds that never coalesces into meaningful words.
The gaunt woman who had called Pandir salad face blinks twice and then falls on the ground laughing.
“Yo, Darna, we need to get you to the priest, she killed you with that one! Creepy clown girl, you’re alright in my book!” The woman approaches Finch, but keeps a safe, thoroughly reasonable distance from the knife-wielding clown. “You painty-faces are all messed up, I always knew that. What y’all want here? Ale tastes like piss and alcohol, the food makes going hungry sound pretty ok and the boss is in a baaaad mood. Name’s Tave, by the way.”
Pandir isn't sure what was so funny, but at least they aren't talking about eating her again.
"Ah, hello Patron Tave. We need to locate Pnar Badem. She was last seen here." Pandir continues bobbing back and forth.
Generally liking the effect, Katala keeps the dancing lights slowly floating in circles above Grog while listening to the others.
Grog shoves past the rest, and continues to glare at threatening patrons. Internally, he is delighted at the weird halo. Will this cause even more followers of Sarenrae to pay their strange tributes?
Tave frowns and spits on the ground.
“That hag? Here? Ain’t seen her in ages. Which is all good and fine if you ask me, but—”
“TAVE! The f*$# you doing? What the hell is this? You assembling a freak show now? Why are you babbling about with these idiots?” A dwarven woman wearing a tunic with ripped sleeves appears on the window and shouts. Blue snakes are tattooed on her impressively thick arms. “I give you useless lot one bloody order. One! Abadar’s s%~*-stained taint, I swear I’ve seen doorstoppers more competent…do your f*%!ing jobs!” The dwarf returns inside immediately after giving her underlings’ egos a second bruising.
“Aaand…that’s the boss. S!~$ mood, you can see. Been going for days now.”
The gaunt woman who had called Pandir salad face blinks twice and then falls on the ground laughing.
“Yo, Darna, we need to get you to the priest, she killed you with that one! Creepy clown girl, you’re alright in my book!” The woman approaches Finch, but keeps a safe, thoroughly reasonable distance from the knife-wielding clown. “You painty-faces are all messed up, I always knew that. What y’all want here? Ale tastes like piss and alcohol, the food makes going hungry sound pretty ok and the boss is in a baaaad mood. Name’s Tave, by the way.”
With another flick of her wrist, Finch makes the knife disappear. She reacts to Tave's praise with faux abashment. "Aww, shucks! How sweet of you to say..."
Tave frowns and spits on the ground.
“That hag? Here? Ain’t seen her in ages. Which is all good and fine if you ask me, but—”
“TAVE! The f#@~ you doing? What the hell is this? You assembling a freak show now? Why are you babbling about with these idiots?” A dwarven woman wearing a tunic with ripped sleeves appears on the window and shouts. Blue snakes are tattooed on her impressively thick arms. “I give you useless lot one bloody order. One! Abadar’s s%#&-stained taint, I swear I’ve seen doorstoppers more competent…do your f@@%ing jobs!” The dwarf returns inside immediately after giving her underlings’ egos a second bruising.
“Aaand…that’s the boss. S!!# mood, you can see. Been going for days now.”
Finch looks mostly amused at the dwarf's loud foul-mouthedness. Once she is gone, the clown turns back to Tave.
"No sh*t?" she asks in a more business-like tone. "Well, you folks sure don't look to be the boot-lickin' type, but there's a prize on the sheriff's discovery—maybe we can cut you in, if you have any info... or info on who has said info. Savvy? Also, what's got your boss' knickers in a twist? She hasn't been sleepin' with the law, has she?"
Katala stays close behind Grog, keeping the lights floating above him. She quietly mentions, "Boss is in a bad mood? Maybe we should talk to her!"
Miss Finch is so creative when she speaks to others- how does she do it? Pandir watches on, fascinated with her choice of words.
Tave looks left and right, then leans towards Finch and whispers.
“I actually always thought about that. The boss is the only one who ever got Badem actually angry. The two b!##!es really get under each other’s skin, yelling, throwing s!%! at each other, the whole deal. But that’s all I know.” She begins speaking at a normal volume once again. “You want to talk to her, you need to cough some. A copper a head. That’s the fee for fresh meat and the only way you get inside. Or leave salad-face with us, if she’s edible. I can already tell you that Badem hasn’t been here for ages, though. Yeah, that much I can tell you.”
Who is salad face? Why do they want heads of copper?
Pandir looks to her left, and right, as if a copper salad face is right behind. "A copper... head? Of salad?" Pandir thinks. And thinks. And thinks. Aha!
Pandir ruffles through her foliage and pulls out a copper piece. "Perhaps you can purchase a copper salad head with some copper?"
Grog grunts at the thought of anything in this place having a passing resemblance to 'fresh', but forks out his copper.
The clown hands Tave not one but two coppers, doing so with the accustomed discreetness of a seasoned briber. "One for entrance, one for havin' the sense to be peaceable-like. Be sure to teach your friend some manners, yea? Like most cows, she seems to have been brought up in a barn..."
With one last glare at the elf, Finch enters the Mug.
Katala pulls out the coin, but then decides against it. "If you want to try and take this by force, I have magic that will turn it into a projectile and likely kill you as it hits. But I'll be sure to give it to the boss, inside, and let her know what a great job you are doing here."
“Ha, teach Galael some manners? Not a priest, can’t work miracles!” Tave says and then looks confusedly at Katala. “Speaking of manners, you better teach your housecat some too…I’ll just take that extra coin of yours. In any case, don’t be giving the boss a copper like she’s a cheap hooker. You don’t want to find out why she’s called Pruana Two-Punch.”
After crossing the small porch where Tave and her friends chatted, they reach a common room with six tables, a long wooden bar and a few narrow windows that provide natural light to this tavern that smells of piss and beer.
There is, perhaps unsurprisingly, a long silence the moment the colourful Wayward Wonders enter this otherwise unglamorous place. Pruana, the boss, sits alone on a table and lets out a sonorous grunt.
“What the f$~& are you doing here!” It very much does not sound like a question. She drinks from a tall mug and holds a mean-looking brute of a goat by the scruff. “You have one minute before I feed you to Violet.”
"Hello, Goat Violet!" Pandir tries to identify the type of goat, or at least calm it down.
She turns to Miss Finch, who seems to know how to speak to everyone around here. When Pandir tries to speak people just call her salad head.
Violet the goat looks at Pandir with no less hostility than Pruana. Much like its dwarven companion, it refrains from outright aggression, for now.
"Bad kitty," Finch mutters at Katala, somewhat half-heartedly, as the party enters. "Not snitchin', y'hear? We're here for a reason..."
Faced with the boss herself, Finch adopts a halfway respectful tone, although not without an edge of hard-assedness. "Excuse us for the intrusion, ma'am. We're lookin' for the sheriff, and she was last seen at the Mug. Apparently, the mayor was already here askin' questions. I'm afraid people are going to end up botherin' you—repeatedly—until you cough up some info."
Katala glances at the goat, fancifully wondering what it would look like if it made the mistake of trying to eat Grog, suppresses a snort and stares at 'the Boss'. Once Finch speaks she glances around the area, watching for any reaction from the crowd.
“B%@~~#+$. That uptight coward hasn’t been here for a month. Probably jumped town, pissing her panties because ‘people can be so mean’,” Pruana makes a mocking, crying face. “You want her? Be my guest, turn this whole place upside, see if you can find that idiot. Not gonna lie, It’s been great without her preaching here every other week, but the whole town’s gone to s%*$. F%@$ing farmers can’t find their own dicks if mommy dearest is not pointing the way. So, there, if you don’t need anything else from me kindly piss off before I get tired of holding Violet back.”
For all her cursing and complaining, Pruana seems to be worried about Pnar. There was a quick hopeful look the moment Finch mentioned the group was looking for the koiaistor.
"Hmm." Everyone is so blunt, and honest. Usually Pandir has to spend the night interpreting everyone's slang. But the Sheriff is incontinent?
"Sounds like she is not here. But she must have left a mark somewhere. Especially if she urinates constantly."
"'ho waz da mean git 'ho made 'er cry?" Grog grunts in inquiry.
"Bloody genius, great work! I told you! Everyone says she was coming a while ago, but she never got here!"
Pruana looks at Grog, even angrier than before.
"It was, what do they call it, a bloody figure of speech, brickhead." She tilts her head. "You look like a dumb f&@& who knows how to follow orders. Looking for a new job?"
"If she never got here, then..." Pandir turns toward the door. "I guess we should leave, then and look for more clues."
Katala hears Pandir's words and turns toward the door as well. "True. If nobody here has any word, well, the sheriff might have been spirited away. Mayor Abber might just have to replace the Koiaistor if she can't be found!"
"Maybe her sister, Seirah Badem, the town’s miller might know something if she could be found? Maybe we should go and search the area of the mill?"
"It was, what do they call it, a bloody figure of speech, brickhead." She tilts her head. "You look like a dumb f**@ who knows how to follow orders. Looking for a new job?"
Grog seems unperturbed by the rudeness. He roughly answers, "Got one."
"One last thing and we're outta your hair. Finch taps her lower lip thoughtfully. "Did she have enemies? Was she lookin' into things she shouldn't have? I really doubt she just skipped town, unless there's someone in town who's gotten so comfy as to be above the law..."
Pruana chuckles.
“Who in this godsdamned paradise could be so comfortable as to be above the law? That’s a real good question, halfling. You should look into that.” She looks at her mug, pensive. “The woman is a b***~ and a royal pain, but she never did anyone here much wrong. Even saved Tave’s stupid arse a while ago, from that crazy angry boar that moved into the orchard a while ago.” Looking back at Finch, she shrugs. “It’s a small town. We hate each other to bits, but no one has the appetite for murder, if that’s what you’re thinking. And there haven’t been any newcomers that I know of recently.”
Judging by the contrast between the Mug’s patrons and the rest of the Abberton populace, it is very likely that everyone in this place has had their share of problems with the law.
"Oh! Thank you Barowner Tave. I wonder what happened to the boar? Oh well." Pandir turns to leave.
"Sister Seirah Badem is our next interview, yes?"
"Well, this is a f*ckin' waste of time..."
"Gotcha," says the clown, outwardly business-like. "Keep an eye out, yea? There's a price on her discovery. Sounds like you had a good thing goin', if naggin' was the worst you had to deal with. The next, uh... 'coy-as-door'—or whatever it is you call pigs around these parts—might not be as laid-back."
“Finally a bright f@%*ing idea, halfling.” Pruana runs her hand through her short hair and sighs. “You circus freaks look like you’re actually trying to find that stupid b!+~&. Let’s do it like this. You give Tave five gold, I’ll get one of mine to run after you if they find anything. We don’t care much about s!*# rewards. Doubt the mayor would let anyone here have it.”
"Oh! You will also help, shopkeeper Tave?" Pandir begins ruffling through her foliage before pulling out 5 gold pieces. "You need... motivation, yes?" She gives a confused look to Miss Finch. "Uh, is this how it works?"
Katala cringes hearing the proposed price. She turns to leave letting the others decide.
Pruana smiles, surprised.
“Y’all actually gonna pay it? Hells, they must be promising you some serious gold.” She pockets the coins and shakes Pandir’s hand. “Pleasure doing business with you. You’ll hear back from me soon. Now scram, go do your thing.”
The group leaves the Mad Mug shortly after, exchanging only the quickest of pleasantries with Tave before Pruana calls for the thug.
The Hawfton Mill is easily identified by its large mill wheel. The west half of the building sits upon the same level of the upper stream, higher than the rest of the mill. The other side of the building features a well-tended, fenced garden.
A quick walk around the structure reveals the mill has four windows one main door, locked. A secondary entrance can be seen between the cracks on the garden fence.
The mill is one of Abberton’s most important critical buildings and every farmer in the area depends on it. If anything were to happen to the building or its owners — the only people in town who know how to operate and maintain the machinery — Abberton could soon become a ghost town.
The Hawfton Mill was called the Badem Mill till a year ago. The owner, Seirah, followed a traveling medium's advice in hopes doing so would increase yields and alleviate Abberton’s problems. So far little has changed, but Seirah is apparently still hopeful.
"Y-yes, good to hear from a new friend and her friendly goat." Pandir practically wavers in the wind as Tave shakes her hand vigorously. Pandir looks at Violet one last time before heading off.
"Shiny coins are used to make friends, but only so briefly." Pandir continues dancing and prancing towards the mill. The sun is out, the townsfolk seem happier than before, and Pandir can't wait to try out her new technique.
Pandir approaches one of the doors and then stands still. "Cousin Barley once told me about Badem Mill. He told me the owner was a medium of some kind who wanted to help Abberton with its crops and general woes. Medium Seirah is still trying, she will be a delight to meet."
"Medium Seirah is very important to the town. If the water mill were to suffer damage, or Medium Seirah were badly injured, every farmer in Abberton would probably leave. She's quite vital around here."
"Let's hope she's here and safe then."
Grog stands before the mill. He looks up to the noon sun, blinking in the light and then staring down at the mill.
"Shou'd we go?" he asks. He cracks his shoulder muscles, and moves to close his large hand over the door, testing the lock.
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"Oh! You will also help, shopkeeper Tave?" Pandir begins ruffling through her foliage before pulling out 5 gold pieces. "You need... motivation, yes?" She gives a confused look to Miss Finch. "Uh, is this how it works?"Pruana smiles, surprised.
“Y’all actually gonna pay it? Hells, they must be promising you some serious gold.” She pockets the coins and shakes Pandir’s hand. “Pleasure doing business with you. You’ll hear back from me soon. Now scram, go do your thing.”
Finch opens her mouth as if to object, but decides against it. "Well, as long as it's not my gold..."
Pandir approaches one of the doors and then stands still. "Cousin Barley once told me about Badem Mill. He told me the owner was a medium of some kind who wanted to help Abberton with its crops and general woes. Medium Seirah is still trying, she will be a delight to meet."
"Medium Seirah is very important to the town. If the water mill were to suffer damage, or Medium Seirah were badly injured, every farmer in Abberton would probably leave. She's quite vital around here."
The clown squints at the mill. "Hmm. Very important, you say?"
"Sounds like an ideal target for... THE CULT."
Grog stands before the mill. He looks up to the noon sun, blinking in the light and then staring down at the mill.
"Shou'd we go?" he asks. He cracks his shoulder muscles, and moves to close his large hand over the door, testing the lock.
"Gimme a moment," says Finch. "I'll try the window at the back while you... knock on the front."
The halfling slinks off and circles the building, hugging the wall below window level.
Finch silently moves towards the back window, which is a few feet above the ground level. The clown nevertheless manages to find a small foothold that, even if too unstable for her to actually pick the lock, grants full view of a small bedroom, possibly that of two teenagers. The walls are filled with drawings and posters of various fantastical beasts, including a hydra, a manticore, a centaur, and a phoenix. The clothing and furnishings are clearly high-quality.
On the other side of the house, Grog, Pandir and Katala try knocking on the door once. Then twice. Then a third and sonorous time. The locked door remains closed and there’s no indication of footsteps inside the house.
"How does this work again?" Pandir thinks. "Maybe she is not home? We are not to intrude in these interior homes, correct?"
"Hello? Medium Seirah? We are performers from the Circus of Wayward Wonders. We would like to speak to your for a moment. Unless it is, as Sister Venus said, rocking so we shouldn't come knocking."
Grog knocks on the door once more, wondering how the props are being mishandled in his absence.
Grog turns, and shrugs at the other party members, before saying one dreaded word. "Smash?"
"Ah... maybe Miss F- Miss Sherry knows where they are?"
"Godsdamned lanky humans and their freakishly long arms and legs and... everything!"
Finch reappears from behind the corner, shaking her head at the group from her vantage. She holds up a finger to signal for a pause, then moves to peek in the front window and to see if that is easier to finagle.
Pandir loves to help! She will help hoist Miss Finch to the window and plant to keep herself stable.