As the others head out to ask among the merchants and general populace, Emma agrees to meet up with them later and heads off on her own to speak to a few of the City Guard instead. During her time in Sarringallow, she had gotten to know many of them, and by now, was a familiar sight for most at least. Besides, of anyone in the city, they're the most likely ones to remember faces.
The rest of the time spent speaking to people around the docks is frustrating. Hannelia understands that people’s memories for faces and recollection of events isn’t always reliable but nobody seems able to back up Marj’s testimony. Still, she’s confident that the woman was telling the truth - the detail is there and she can’t find any fault with it. Hannelia does her best to reassure Sophi of this but perhaps unsurprisingly the young woman seems a bit crestfallen.
”I think we should see if we can track down Ol’ Sleevin tonight. The best bet is probably to split up, that way we can scope out both the Witch’s End and Willita’s.”
She sets out her proposal to the others. ”Majara, Emma - you take the Witch’s End. Keep an eye out and see if you can sweet talk Alcie or someone else to find out whether he’s been around lately or has been staying there. From what we know of him as a miser, on balance he’s probably not there though. Roger and I will take Willita’s. A small smile quirks onto her face. ”Spare us a thought when you’re sipping your nice glasses of wine and we’ve got to make do with whatever questionable brew was the cheapest last week. Anything else we should be doing?” she asks. ”I’m in favour of eating beforehand as I’d prefer to line my stomach with something edible.”
"Are you sure you want to go to Willita's?" Emma asks with a slight frown. "I could go with Roger while you and Majara go to the Witch's End."
"It's fine. Not that I'm expecting trouble but probably better to have one strong sword arm in each pair," Hannelia replies.
"True enough I suppose," Emma concedes reluctantly. "Though from the sounds of it, Willita's seems the more likely to have trouble of that sort than the Witch's End. Either way, I'm ready when you all are."
"I do not at all object to going to the establishment with the superior beverage choices," Majara says drily. "I'll even treat, Blackford."
"Aye, a sound plan for tonight, but I do have a thought we mayn't ave looked at for tomorrow. Have we checked what other means of passage he might've chartered to get home? If'n he picked a cheap'n disreputable sort that might explain the disappearance and tell us which way to look." Roger is amenable to the current plan and proposes an option for the future.
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Emma’s conversations with the city guards prove fruitful. A few of them remember Verno – for his looks, his fancy clothes, or both. Two of them recall his stay in Saringallow wasn’t long, no more than a week. Another guard remembers seeing him mostly around the market square and the southern half of the town .
The paladin’s questions also alert the watch that something untoward may have happened in town. ”Thanks for lettin’ us know. We’ll report it and keep an eye open for the fella or tellings of his whereabouts.”
It being a hair early for dinner and carousing, the Witch’s end carries the promise of getting raucous a bit later on. For the moment, it is pleasantly busy but not packed as Emma and Majara enter the local watering hole…
Hannelia and Roger are practically at the docks when they arrive at Willita’s House of Rapture. Their movements down the up-scale alley are followed by the speculative glances of no fewer than a half dozen men and women plying the oldest of trades. Assets and offers are on display:
”You and Missus out enjoyin’ the fine evening? Want me to make it finer?”
”Special rates for a special couple… Want a double date? How about a five-some? More the merrier I always say…”
”Wanna show me your peg-leg, Admiral?”
One rather charming youth looks at Hannelia hungrily. ”I like your clothes. I’d like’em better balled up on my bedroom floor. How about we make that happen?”
"Good idea, Roger," Hannelia agrees. "I don't know how much anyone might remember of him, but we should definitely speak to the gate guards, anyone who might have sold him a horse, and see if we can find any caravan records. It might not turn up anything but maybe it'll eliminate some options."
She eats a quick dinner, glad of a brief rest - Hannelia only arrived back in Saringallow a few short hours ago and has already been thrown into the thick of something. With a tap of her wrist, her clothes shift to a nondescript pair of form-fitting black trousers and a long-sleeved slate grey top.
For now Hannelia feels it's best to get inside and see if they can pick up any sign of Sleevin. Perhaps those in the alley may know but to start with there may be easier ways to get leads without being sucked into constant conversation. "Maybe later," she replies lightly, not making prolonged eye contact with anyone and continuing to walk, heading inside once she and Roger make it to Willita's doorstep.
As they enter the Witch's End, Emma glances around the familiar surroundings. There's the usual crowd, neither empty or overflowing, and she keeps her pace with Majara's.
"What do you think?" she asks her companion. "Order some drinks first, or should we try to get Alcie's attention first?"
"Why not both?" Majara asks, pushing through the legs of tallerfolk on her way to the bar. She clambers upon a stool to reach the bartop, looking around for Alcie-- or perhaps Morvinnar, as the boy has every reason to want to be helpful to Emma as one of the Seekers.
If she sees either, she waves a hand to beckon them over. "Hallo! I'll need a Kyonin red, and whatever Blackford is having, and we also want to know if Sleevin's crossed the establishment's threshold recently? Or tonight. We are interested in speaking with him and could make it worth his while."
Majara's speech contains all the particulars and none of the grace that might help it go down easier. Perhaps Emma's tongue can add a please-or-thank-you to it.
Emma takes a seat next to Majara, leaning up against the bar as the gnome lays out their cards on the table without much preamble.
"I'll take a glass of milk, should you have any fresh in stock," Emma says, "and some chocolate as well, melted into a cup?" At the bemused glance from Majara, Emma shrugs slightly. "What? Have you ever mixed it into milk? It's quite good!"
With her drink order out of the way, and trying not to seem as though she's stepping on Majara's toes, she adds, "We were hoping to speak to the man on behalf of a young woman looking for her husband to be. Nice girl, but she's definitely worried at the lack of contact and a trail that's seemingly gone cold." Emma lets out a sigh, and gives an earnest look across the bar. "If you know his whereabouts or anyone else who might, we'd be most appreciative."
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Roger pauses for a moment, pondering, giving his beard a solid singular stroke. "Damn, twere a finely crafted line. Have a drink on me." He tosses the Peg-Leg caller a silver, tips his hat, and follows Hannelia in.
Alcie is behind the bar. She shakes her head at Emma’s drink preference. ”Want a side shot of egg shells with that? I hear that’s the Seekers’ favorite chaser.” In response to Majara’s question, she merely points to a small table tucked into a nook near the far end of the bar. A skinny old man with long, unkempt hair sits at the table, nursing a full tumbler of whiskey. ”That’s Sleevin.”
The nautically-minded whore deftly catches the coin and deposits it in her ample cleavage as Roger and Emma enter Mother Willita’s House of Rapture.
If they were hoping for less overt displays of sexuality inside the House, they are disappointed. The offers of a good time are far less verbal and far more visual. Half-dressed (or less) men, women, and ‘others’ stroll through the lounge in leather, lace, silk, satin, cotton, chains… showing what’s on offer for anyone with the coin and the will.
A powerfully built half-orc approaches the newcomers. His fashionable clothes are made of silk, which stand in curious contrast to the ragged scars criss-crossing his face. His half-bow is polite and precise, ”Good evening. I’m Karrik, your host. Welcome to the House of Rapture. Are you here for food, drink, or another appetite you'd like satisfied?”
"Aye, curiosity's the appetite today. Got a woman looking for where her partner may have gone, but not in the jealous sort of way, in a 'I pray he's not dead' sorta way. Verno's the name we're trying to track down."
Karrik smiles toothily. ”Our clients expect complete discretion and rarely drop their names. I’m sure you understand why. All that said... 'Verno' isn't ringing any bells and no one has died here in quite some time.”
Nothing about the place is subtle, though Hannelia supposes that rather comes with the territory. Her deliberately neutral garb is in sharp contrast to the gratuitous displays of flesh from those hawking their wares, marking her out as either someone wanting to remain anonymous - not exactly a surprise, and confirmed by Karrik's words - or a courtesan with a real self-promotion problem.
"Reassuring to know," she says. "And I'd expect little else. Chances are anyone answering to the name Verno here likely doesn't do so elsewhere,” she looks over at Roger, her point being as much for him as their half-orc host. ”It’s a pleasure to meet you, Karrik, I’m Hannelia.” She gives a brief description of Verno, covering his age, appearance and occupation. ”There’s a reward for our missing man - he’s not in any trouble but his family’s worried and they’re not short of a coin or two - so if that sounds familiar to anyone we’d be interested to know. Provided we can work around client privilege, of course.”
”We’re also interested in the whereabouts of one Sleevin. I know he drinks here so he’ll be known to others here too, even if not by that name. Works for the Wind Sisters at the docks. If you’re willing to quietly put out the word, we’d be much obliged if you could let him know we’d like to see him. Believe it or not, he’s not in any trouble either but if he could show his face at Pricknettle’s Potions and Poultices - to see Majara specifically - we’d like to ask him some questions about his work. All above board. Couldn’t find him on the docks today,” she adds, by way of explanation. She fishes into her belt pouch and pulls out a handful of coins. ”These are for Sleevin,” she indicates a couple of silver pieces, ”to show him we’re serious. The gold’s for your time and trouble,” Hannelia says to Karrik. ”Anything you can do discretely on either front is much appreciated."
”Oh, in case you were wondering, that is my real name,” she adds with a grin. ”Would be an unnecessary challenge to get word to me if I’d gone with something else.”
Karrik slides the two gold coins into his vest pocket but refuses Sleevin’s silver. ”Sleevin hasn’t been here this evening, Miss Venator. And while you have never been a patron of our establishment, it is our policy to know all of our neighbors.” You’re fairly certain that caveat was for Roger’s benefit and would likely be said whether this was your first or your hundredth time at Willita’s. ”If Sleevin does come, I will certainly send a runner to fetch you.”
”As for this Verno gentlemen, your description seems familiar… Give me a few moments to inquire, if you will. May I recommend a seat at the bar, while you wait? With a drink, gratis, of course.” He points to three empty chairs in a darker corner. One of the seats is immediately filled by a striking girl with auburn hair in a practically demure white dress. Her cleavage is exposed but very little else. She flashes large, sea green eyes at Hannelia and a blush crosses her cheeks as she looks hesitantly away. If the bard didn’t know better, she’d swear this girl is a dewy youth feeling the first pangs of love. It seems the staff at Willita’s knows a bit more than Hannelia’s name. The girl pats the seat next to her.
Regardless of the decisions made by our dashing pirate and bard, Karrik leaves Willita’s via the front door.
Emma glances over at Majara for a moment. "Egg shells?" she mutters, a bit confused. "That sounds like it would be awful with milk."
Leave it to Majara to get right to the heart of the matter and get results right away. With a moment of hesitation, Emma stands and approaches Sleevin.
"Hello there - are you Sleevin?" Emma asks as cordially as she can. "My name is Emma Blackford, and this is Majara Pricknettle. If you don't mind, could you answer some questions for us? We're looking for someone and we were told you might have information on their whereabouts." She gestures to his table. "I'd be happy to pay for your next drink or some food as recompense."
With a jaundiced eye, Sleevin looks at the state of his glass (down to one more swallow) then eyes Emma up and down. Finally, he shrugs. ”I don’ know no one but if yur buyin’, I’m drinkin’. Ask them questions.”
"The eggshells are for my plant," Majara says with sniffy dignity, before slithering off her barstool and Sleevin-wards.
The gnome gives Emma's silver tongue an approving nod and hops onto a chair at Sleevin's table (after confirming it's got no puddles on the seat).
"A fellow named Verno-- a pretty-boy sort. Came into town by river-ferry, the Windswept - one of your boats, no? Would have arrived on..."
Majara provides the accurate date after a moment's thought. "A passenger, a paying one. We're confirming he arrived safely by your company's boats, and checking to see if he booked passage out with you?"
A brief thought idles across Majara's never-too-trusting mind. They'd been told Sleevin was a skinflint, but here he is drinking in-- well, Alcie's may not exactly be RESPECTABLE, but it's not bottom-of-the-barrel, either. Hm, has Sleevin come into sudden funds?
Sadly, Majara's suspicious mind is not paired with the people skills it would take to benefit.
"Ah," Emma says, face heating up slightly in regards to the egg shells. Of course. "Sorry, still getting used to that."
She takes a sip of her milk and averts her eyes.
***
Emma regards Sleevin with some doubt, partially regretting the offer of buying a drink, if only because she's not sure if it would kill the man or not. He already looks rather ragged as it is.
"If you have any information on the man, we'd appreciate it," Emma adds. "Anything you remember about him or where he may have gone would be helpful."
Hannelia nods at Karrik’s reply. She’s having to get used to the fact that these days her reputation is preceding her. ”We appreciate your candour,” she says, ”and the drink.”
After the half-orc makes his exit, she turns to Roger and quietly says, ”I suppose it would only be polite to accept the drink. We’ll see if his enquiries come to anything but otherwise we’re probably done here - given the policy of discretion I can’t imagine anyone’s likely to tell us something they won’t tell Karrik.”
As she moves to seat herself in the designated corner, a girl slips into the third of the unoccupied chairs. To Hannelia’s eye she seems very young and very pretty. As she blushes after making eye contact with Hannelia, it would also appear that she is putting on something of a show for her benefit. So far as she can tell, at least half of what goes on here is for show and even if she’s not wholly sure whether the move was pre-planned or opportunistic, her sense of drama appreciates it.
She sits down, addressing the red-headed girl. ”Can I help you?”
Sleevin shrugs, indicating he doesn't know or care. ”Don’t recall the name, why would I? An’ I’m only ‘sposed to show the books to the two C’s – the Company and the Constables.” He chuckles darkly and eyes Emma again, thinking unknowable things, then watches as his glass is refilled. Decision made, he pulls a leather-bound ledger from a satchel beside him. He flips through to the date mentioned. ”Yeah, got a Verno Aculla arriving from Logas on that day. No notation so he wasn’t a problem.” He continues, ”What day did he leave here? Was he headed north or south?”
”Can I help you?”
Our heroes find their seats… and Hannelia finds the girl’s knee ‘accidentally’ brushing against her leg. She keeps her eyes demurely downcast while addressing both the Seekers. ”I’ve heard you all have done heroic things. That must be very exciting. Would you tell me about some of your breath-taking adventures?” Her eyes meet the heroes’ eyes briefly – a fleeting connection. She crooks a finger and the bartender arrives to take their orders.
”Well, if you’ve heard that then you’ve probably heard some of the stories,” Hannelia says. ”But since you asked…” She proceeds to give a brief recap of the events of the Demonsbile Affair, seeing as that’s the one most connected with the town.
After spinning the yarn, she also feels compelled to say something else, similar to words she’s spoken to Shel previously. ”Now stories are good, don’t get me wrong, but don’t forget that they’re only one version of things. The reality - the excitement, if you will - doesn’t always make for a great tale. And great tales aren’t always based on real events.”
She then decides to use it as an opening to ask a few questions of her own. ”We’re looking for a couple of people. I don’t suppose you’ve met either of them or know of their whereabouts?” Hannelia gives a description of both Verno and Sleevin. ”Otherwise, have you seen or heard anything interesting or unusual recently? You never know, it might not seem like much now but such things can find their way into stories if they are the right details.”
Hannelia’s impression is the girl is just plying her trade. She’s also vaguely disappointed when Hannelia keeps the conversation factual and to the point. She does try to be helpful as these two are Karrik’s guests. She shakes her head at Verno’s description and wrinkles her nose at the mention of Sleevin. ”He comes around a lot. He’s all eyes and drinks rotgut. Guess we’re cheap thrills for him.”
Ten minutes after he left, Karrik returns and speaks to a couple of employees on his way over to our heroes. ”That Verno fellow was around for a few days. Some of the girls outside dangled bait, which he ignored. Apparently, his heart was fixed on his fiancée. At least that is the line he used. By accounts, he wasn’t rude to any of the girls but he clearly wasn’t interested in finding a bedmate. After that he avoided this part of the road. Needless to say, he never visited our establishment.”
"Thank you," Hannelia says at the girl's reply, deciding to leave it at that as she's not sure what else to say. She hasn't wanted to lead her on but nor does she want to offend her. "I'm sorry" feels inadequate - and wide open to interpretation, including being misconstrued, given she has no idea of the girl's life story, though her reaction clearly indicates she's no fan of Sleevin.
At this point Karrik returns and she absorbs the half-orc's answer. "Very useful, you have out thanks," she replies. Rising, she turns to Roger. "I think we're probably done here." She fetches another silver piece from her purse and offers it to the girl. "For your time and company. And if you ever hear any good stories, I'm always interested."
After exiting and making their way back down the alley, Hannelia says to Roger, "We have something of the measure of the man, at least. From that it seems unlikely that Verno's hiding anything, at least not in terms of other company. Or probably anything else," she adds, thinking. "If he's been around and showing his face rather than laying low it seems likely that he was just going about his normal business. Which does probably increase the chances that his vanishing was against his will," she finishes, a grim note in her voice. She unties her hair, shaking it loose. "Let's head back and see how Emma and Majara are getting on. Even if they haven't found Sleevin, it's probably only a matter of time before we track him down."
"Aye, I think ye've the right of it. Wish there were simpler tracks to follow, but I doubt following footsteps'd do any good in town." Roger thinks.
"Tell me about it," Hannelia agrees. "It would be a lot easier if we did have a physical trail you could pick up on and you could just lead us to his hiding place."
Sleevin shrugs, indicating he doesn't know or care. ”Don’t recall the name, why would I? An’ I’m only ‘sposed to show the books to the two C’s – the Company and the Constables.” He chuckles darkly and eyes Emma again, thinking unknowable things, then watches as his glass is refilled. Decision made, he pulls a leather-bound ledger from a satchel beside him. He flips through to the date mentioned. ”Yeah, got a Verno Aculla arriving from Logas on that day. No notation so he wasn’t a problem.” He continues, ”What day did he leave here? Was he headed north or south?”
"We're not precisely sure as to what day he left," Majara says. "Since he's disappeared. We're trying to ascertain if he DID leave town, by boat. He would have been returning to Elidir, I believe-- so to the north, after spending a few days here in town. If you might check a few days worth of your company's records, you stand to gain a profit for it."
Majara is pondering herself how much profit she might be willing to give for the information. "Two silver if you check- a gold if you find any proof he booked passage out."
Sleevin grumbles at Majara’s request but he does pore over his ledger, recounting facts as he finds them. ”So he arrived on the Windswept. Heading to Elidir, she left port the next day. He wasn’t on it… Three days later the Windburn docked. She stayed overnight then headed to ports south, an’ Verno wasn’t on her either… Four days later the Break Wind,” he chuckles, ”made port. She was heading north, bound for Elidir. And the boy don’t show up on her passenger list either. And that puts us at 8 or 9 days after he landed in Saringallow. If he headed north within a week, it wasn’t on a Wind Sisters ship.” He lays his palm out for his 2 silver reward just as Hannelia and Roger enter the tavern. ”O’ course, he could have taken another ship. Or he mighta paid someone to keep his name off the list. Put another silver in my hand and I’ll tell ya if he done that.”
Looking up quite sharply when Sleevin hints that record altering might have happened, Majara reaches into her coin purse with barely a pause. A third silver is profferred over to the eager Sleevin.
"Well?"
Re-entering the Witch’s End, Hannelia clocks Majara and Emma still at the same table. Though she can currently only see the back of his head, she presumes the man opposite to be Sleevin. ”Looks like they found our man,” she nudges Roger, inclining her head in the direction of their companions.
As they approach, she just catches the man talking of lists and money. Yes, definitely our man.
Hannelia watches Majara hand over a silver piece - probably not the first - while carefully scrutinising the man’s reaction, which seems primarily driven by greed. She’ll have to check what she’s missed later but her initial hunch is that Sleevin is happy enough to stick to the truth provided that money is forthcoming.
On seeing the others enter, Majara waves a hand to them.
"We found Sleevin," she calls, possibly unnecessarily. "He was just suggesting that perhaps someone had falsified records!"
Sleevin takes the coin and makes a show of scanning the records closely before determining... "Yeah, I don't think that fella paid to be forgotten. When he left Saringallow, it wasn't on a Wind Sisters boat."
Alcie, who has been half-listening to the conversation since she was asked to pour a free drink and witnessed coins crossing palms, comes over to take Roger and Hannelia's orders. She also adds to the conversation, "You talkin' about a good-looking rich man, here maybe a month ago? Curly brown hair? He was here - eating, roomin' too, I think. Kind of a mope, staring at a locket a lot."
"Sounds like it could be our man?" Roger has a bit of a questioning tone as he looks at Hannelia- he might have forgotten the curly brown hair bit.
"I think so," Emma says, thinking back. "Good looking as far as guys go, wavy brown hair...certainly close enough to the picture in the locket. That, and the fact that he also was looking at a locket." She turns to Alcie. "Any idea of where it was that he may have been heading? Or just anything in general you could tell us about him?"
”Good looking as far as guys go…”
”Any idea of where it was that he may have been heading? Or just anything in general you could tell us about him?”
Alcie frowns trying to recall any details. ”Not… really. He ate here on the regular but mostly kept to himself. Not a talker, that one. He asked about where to get gifts for a lady. I mentioned the usual businesses, I think. I can check the books, tell you when he checked in and checked out. That might help you some, eh?”
Sleevin takes the coin and makes a show of scanning the records closely before determining... "Yeah, I don't think that fella paid to be forgotten. When he left Saringallow, it wasn't on a Wind Sisters boat."
Majara opens her mouth, then shuts it, then gazes narrow-eyed at Sleevin for a long moment. For a moment it seems she might be about to say something cutting, but then she gives a rather-gnomish laugh and a headshake.
"Truly a businessman," she admits.
Fortunately, Alcie has some information for them. Majara leaves off with Sleevin, as he seems to have no further information to mine, and turns to the owner instead. "Ah? Yes, that would be helpful, Alcie, thank you. He's missing. His lady is quite distraught."
"Certainly couldn't hurt," Emma said. "Thanks Alcie."
Alcie leaves the bar untended for a few minutes to check the ledger. She returns fairly quickly. ”We have a Verno Aculla checking in on [date which matches the arrival the Windswept]. He stayed three nights and left early on the morning of the fourth day. He requested breakfast in his room at six bells.”
Majara makes a thoughtful noise in her throat. "....could we see his room? Granted, with the intervening time I can't imagine there's anything there left to see, but-- we are grasping at thin leads, here."
The gnome rests her chin on her hand. "Assuming we won't find any clues there, I suppose our next step is to check with the gateguards for the day mentioned, see if any of them remember him leaving by land."
"And the other barkers," Hannelia replies. "But that can wait till tomorrow, I think we've done enough chasing around tonight and much easier to find them when they'll mostly be around the docks."
Understanding that the conversation was at an end, and with Sleevin having gone to spend his newly acquired wealth, Hannelia inclines her head in his direction. "From what I could tell he likes coin more than he likes leading people on a dance so I think he was speaking true."
"We didn't find Sleevin - as you know," she continues. "But we did learn a little more about our man too. Seems Verno had been past Willita's but not tempted inside. Said he was happy with his fiancée and then steered clear, so it wasn't an entirely wasted trip."
She rubs a hand across her neck. "I think we're building up a reasonable picture of our missing man, anyway. We know he arrived when he should have done. Seems like he was going about his business normally too, and we've found nothing to suggest anything covert there or in his relationship." Hannelia ticks off pieces of information as she talks. "We should obviously check out our other ideas tomorrow to make sure but so far we don't have any motives for Verno going to ground. Which makes the idea of him disappearing against his will the likelier option, per your friend Occamiel." She smiles slightly at Majara. "Of course I don't know that we have any clues as to where that may be, who might responsible, or why he was taken. As you say, thin leads."
"Have I missed anything?" she asks.
Alcie doesn't like giving anyone the run of her rooms, but the cause seems good. "You're in luck, no one is staying there right now. It's been used since he left so I’m not sure what you’ll find... but come on if you're comin'."
She grabs a key from behind the bar and heads upstairs. As Alcie lets you into the room, you can tell Verno knew how to spend money. The room is large with a view over the road and a private bathtub separated by a folding privacy screen. The mattress and pillows look to be stuffed with feathers. The room even comes with its own cedar wardrobe.
After Alcie shows them inside, Hannelia appreciates the room. She’s stayed in more spartan places and, when she’s had to, some pretty dismal sleeping quarters, but Verno clearly has the money to spend and prefers to sleep in comfort and she’s certainly not going to begrudge him that. Once they’re left to it, she suggests, ”Let’s give the whole place a thorough look over. I’m not sure what we might find that would be useful – something he may have deliberately stashed here to come back for later maybe? Signs of a struggle? It would probably be impossible to tell when they would date from. And I don’t think he disappeared at the point when he was staying here any, right? At least I assume Alcie would have mentioned it if he had! Anyway, let’s be careful and put things back how we found them. Alcie’s doing us a favour here but we’ll be paying for any damage, as sure as Abadarans love gold. And pirates,” she grins at Roger.
”As well as the obvious places, look for any hidden compartments – loose floorboards, behind pictures on the wall, false bottoms in the wardrobe – that sort of thing. I remember you said you found something hidden in a hollow bed leg at the Irrica summer house? Probably worth checking in case the bed knobs come off.”
With that, Hannelia starts to methodically search the room. She also works a simple spell to check for any sources of magic.
Though it had been her own suggestion, Majara has only thin hopes that anything will remain in the room for them to check. There have been multiple other people staying here, after all, and nothing they have discovered yet indicates that the young man was involved in anything illicit, or that he was the sort of person to store things in hollow bedposts. Yet still, she looks carefully through the room, because a) she is meticulous, and b) it was her suggestion, gnomish whim that it might have been, and having proposed it she must follow through because otherwise she sounds much too much like one of her kindred who say things and then don't follow through. Look, it makes sense to Majara, okay.
After a few minutes, the gnome shrugs. "So. Tomorrow at the harbor? Or should we again split our efforts, maximize our time? Emma and I could go to the guards-- she gets on with them, no?"
Our heroes spend nearly an hour searching, checking into and behind every piece of furniture in the room. They even carefully feel the pillows and bedding for any foreign objects. Clearly, the most expensive room at the Witch’s End gets a thorough cleaning between guests because the room is immaculate and free of dirt or interesting evidence. If there was foul play here, they see no hint of it. They find no secret stashes either.
The search is thorough but the end result is as unsatisfying as predicted. But they have at least checked and, Hannelia notes, they did a good job and worked well together.
"Yes, I think that makes sense. Me and Roger will take the docks then," she replies."I think we're probably done for tonight though."
The next day dawns, full of promise... with a few thick, fleecy winter clouds overhead casting the morning in half-light. Undaunted, our heroes are committed to taking the next steps in their investigation to determine what happened to Verno Aculla. From their various homes they all head toward Gunty’s to start the day with a hot roll or other delightful treat.
As they are within smelling distance of the bakery, a metaphoric stormcloud darkens their day. From up the street, behind them, a corpulent lay priest from the Temple of Erastil races to catch them. Panting, he yells (perhaps a tad over-dramatically), ”He’s gone! He’s gone again! I just went to check on him, and he’s gone!”