Wild joins in on the line of questions for Cham.
"New here but inns not right places for deaths. No one dies here other times I sleep. Many people mad that Rodrik dies here last night without a why. We friends thinking you help us know who did?"
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Cham looks relieved that the group seems intent on finding out what happened to Rodrik. ”Rodrik was a good man, for a hu…” She catches herself as she looks at Robin. ”He requested I wake him up when he arrived last night, and I went to get him just before dawn. I knocked and when he didn’t answer I went in check and found him on his bed, bloody and still. I screamed and some other residents heard and called for the militia once they figured out what was wrong.”
She trembles a little as she tells her tale and tears come to her eyes, though she remains calm for the most part. ”Unfortunately, nothing out of the ordinary happened last night, nor any of the days or night recently.”
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Brinya’s eye well up at the support Purg and Vethrom show but she can’t help but giggle a little at Purg’s offer to let her vent on him. ”That is sweet. You are good to check in on me, and the food will be a comfort. Rodrik was looking forward to having a wedding to celebrate but he knew he needed to give him father some time to accept our relationship. It was that time I fear that lead to his death. If that old fool’s hatred of orcs hadn’t driven Rodrik from the Longhouse, Rodrik would have been safe surrounded by his brothers, or at least his true brother.”
Brinya clearly holds Jargin Grath partly responsible for Rodrik’s death.
Purg considers for a bit, racking his poor little brain over what all her words mean, and it comes to him in time. Purg no longer had a real family, so not getting along with your family was something he couldn't even consider. He could also understand a hatred of other greenskins, that was who had killed his family after all. But just because some greenskins were very bad, that didn't mean they all were. Vethorm seemed okay, for instance. At least not bad, by any means. How hard it must be to not see past the green of someone's skin and into the red that flows within us all.
"Rod-rick dad not a nice person, but probably not kill own son. You think you be ok? If need, have extra crossbows. Can teach to shoot ok too."
Vethorm sighs firmly through his nose. So that was why Rodrik had gone to the Ramblehouse last night.
"As much as Jagrin's a stubborn sunovab*$@*, I...imagine he's feeling very much the same way right now. I've no love for him, but I know the person he's hardest on is himself...besides, I was drinkin' with him and those out-of-towners last night...If I'd gone with him to the Ramblehouse I maybe could've saved him. I think...I think all of us are gonna feel like there was something we shoulda done...Pharasma may be fair but she sure ain't kind."
Robin doesn't note Cham's little hiccup in speech, but he also follows up her recollection with more questions "Then someone made it into his room... Do the rooms here lock? Was there any sign of anyone out and about at night, or any sign the door or window were forced?"
Ranhild listens in silence, taking in all the details.
Wild has only a vague sense of how others behave on the surface, let alone the ability to detect when someone is being less than forthcoming in their words. Which he doesn't understand all too well either.
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Purg looks at Vethorm. "Purg AT Ramblehouse. Purg live there. Not hear anything. And Purg hear everything. Purg hear that food not sit well in you last full moon." He points at his frankly enormous ears for emphasis. "Purg not think anything more he could do. Purg not know to keep watch over Rod-Rick."
Vethorm's jaw drops as Purg reminds him of that "incident" and he glowers indignantly at the goblin while his face flushes a darker shade of green. Out of embarrassment, rather than indigestion.
Robin thinks over the responses and adds "Do you mind showing us the room? With all the shock, it could be no one has given it a good look over yet. Maybe something more was left behind."
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”All of the rooms have locks.” Cham’s tone momentarily seems to be annoyed, but she seems to catch herself and calms down again. ”The door was locked when I went in, though many locals do not lock their own doors. There didn’t seem anything off about the door to me and people come and go as they please. Especially with the celebration last night.”
”Of course I can show you the room. Follow me.” Cham turns to head upstairs but then Hilde pulls the others aside and explains that Cham is clearly holding something back.
"Cham, was anything else happening last night you're not mentioning? I know its probably overwhelming after what you saw this morning, but we need every bit of information you have if we're going to find out the truth!" Robin implores the halfling innkeeper.
Vethorm takes up the hopeknife Kurst gave him, and then holds it out to Brinya.
"Kurst trusted me with this before sending me here...it's not Kurst's hopeknife, is it? At least, not the one he got when he came of age...it became his when you gave it to him, right?"
"You mean not Rod-Rick hope knife." Purg adds, helpfully. He would hope it wasn't Kurst's.
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The rooms are supposed to be locked?! Uh oh...
Uncertain that he was even in the right room last night, Wild secretly hopes that he was not absent-mindedly responsible for the foul deed himself. He quickly mimics Robin's enthusiasm and tries to plead with Cham for an alibi.
"AH! We need the truths! Many places, locks have keys. Many keys are very very very small trinkets. Easy to miss. Easy to take. Easy to mistake. Rodrik have room key? Maybe killer have room key now?"
Wild turns out the pouch pockets of his kilt but only dirt and other meaningless nonsense falls out.
"See!? Have no keys!"
"You mean not Rod-Rick hope knife." Purg adds, helpfully. He would hope it wasn't Kurst's.
"That's what I said, Purg. You might not know, you haven't really been interested in that kind of stuff, from what I've seen, but married or engaged couples often trade hopeknives with each other. A way of saying your life belongs to the person you love, and their life belongs to you."
"If his door was locked...was the key to his room found inside, or on his body?" Ranhild asks.
"Not many goblin lady in town. Not any goblin lady in town. Also Purg not have hope knife." He gives a little shrug. He doesn't know about these things, he's barely an adult and this was not exactly something he was taught at any point in his life so far. They didn't try to teach romance or courtship or anything to the Goblin in town. It was strange enough just having a Goblin around, much less trying to explain to his cracked mind the owlbears and the manticores.
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Cham looks sheepishly between Robin and Wild before excusing herself for a moment. She returns shortly with a ledger and she shows the party the last page of entries. The only unusual thing is a blank entry reserving a room after Rodrik checked in, the only entry in the ledger without a name, just a description of ‘human man’.
She breaks down in a sob and quickly explains herself. ”He refused to give me his name,” she says between gulps of air, ”and he paid in gold. He said he’d be gone before sunrise. I didn’t ask no more than that and I had no way of knowing something like this would happen!”
It takes a few moments for her to calm herself again to answer further questions. ”I honestly couldn’t say if the key was in the room or not. If it was, it likely would still be there now. If it was on his body, it likely would be found at Sanctuary now.”
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Brinya’s face grows sober as she looks at the hopeknife in Vethrom’s hands. ”That’s not Rodrik’s hopknife,” she say plainly. ”His hopeknife was mine, or rather used to be. When we got engaged, we traded to symbolize our union, and had Sara Morninghawk engrave them.” She pulls on a heavy silver necklace, revealing her own hopeknife. ”See? This was Rodrik’s. I don’t know where that came from, but it’s not the one I grew up with.”
Brinya pauses for a moment but then continues. ”As a matter of fact, Rodrik admitted to me last night that he had lost the hopeknife while he was investigating something. I was furious! I told him I didn’t want to see him again until he found it. Or at least made things right.” She lowers her head, and speaks in a hushed tone, almost to herself. ”Had I known that last night would be the last time I spoke to him, I would have acted much differently.”
"Gone before sunrise? More than a little odd... Can you describe him to us Cham? Maybe it's nothing, I don't want to go accusing people just because they like to check out early, but that timing is quite bad!" Robin peers at the ledger, scanning the other nearby names "How many other keys are there to Rodrik's room? You had a second obviously to let yourself in. Do you always keep that one on you or could someone have borrowed it?"
He continues the questions as the group starts heading over to the room to investigate.
"What," Vethorm says grimly as Brinya explains that the hopeknife he's brought her wasn't Rodrik's or hers at all. He looks down at it. "Then this was a murder, and this the murder weapon...did Kurst give this to me to have you confirm it?" he wonders aloud.
He looks back up at Brinya, glowering, but not at her.
"All I can say is what I said to Kurst before comin' here: we're gonna find the bastard who did this, and when we do, I'll drag him to you and Kurst so you can strangle them yourself."
There sure were a lot of people being not nice to Rod-Rick. I still don't think he would kill self but it almost sound like he might. Purg can't see why all these people would be so mean to one another when this was all they had. "This very compli... that hard word. Why would anyone want to kill Rod-Rick? He so nice. And big and strong but also sweet."
"I'd bet gold that it had to do with whatever he was 'investigating' when his own hopeknife went missing," Vethorm replies. "Maybe he found out something that someone wanted kept quiet...so quiet they'd kill him to keep him from telling others."
Wild points at the ledger with reassured confidence and no small amount of relief that someone else is more likely to blame for the crime.
"That's it! Nameless human man's done it! Truth is spoken!"
He looks back and forth between Robin, Ranhild and Cham. He is certain they have more pertinent questions pending to prove the next course of action, hopefully agreeing to his allegation.
"Yes. Tell us all details so we gets revenges!"
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Cham wrings her hands as she is questioned. ”I don’t know how best to describe this human. He looked like most every other longshank. Tall but not too tall. Dark hair and light skin, like most around here. I’m sorry I just can’t say much more.”
”As for other keys, there is the main room key which I gave to Rodrik and my master key,” Cham pulls a single key from her pocket as she continues. ”I can’t imagine anyone could have gotten it from me or from my room. The only other people who ever have access are my staff, but only during the day, and I trust the completely. You can’t think someone here would have done this?”
Cham leads the group upstairs to Rodrik’s room. The door remains open as you arrive and she stands aside so you can investigate without interference. The sparse room contains only a cot and writing desk. The cot is cheap with a straw-stuffed mattress, now stained red with blood. The desk is a slightly nicer piece though it has been worn by time. A cracked window is the only exit other than the door you entered.
Robin and Wild seem occupied with questioning Cham so Hilde and Ranhild begin looking around. Before long Ranhild finds herself looking through the desk. At first she finds it empty and she is about to move on, but then a piece of the draw shifts and she discovers a false bottom, perfect for hiding notes or maybe small valuables, though it appears Rodrik had nothing to hide. The false-bottom is empty.
Hilde works her way to the bed and begins seeing what she can find. The blood stained mattress doesn’t seem to have much to reveal but she looks under the bed and finds a scrap of paper. She turns the paper over and it appears to be an invoice of some sort. It reads:
Morninghawk’s Fine Steel
Receipt of Purchase
Customer: Rodrik Grath
Order: 1 hopeknifr
Additional Options: Engraving to read, “For Rodrik, my love”
Smith: Urnsul
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Brinya seems to be tired but she has one more thought. ”Vethorm, you knew him somewhat. Was his journal found with him? He almost never went without, even on patrol. I’d like to have it if you find it. His writing may be the only memories I have of him.”
”I thank you both for the kind words. Rodrik spoke well of both of you at times, so I am relieved to know you cared for him as well.”
Hilde turns the scrap of paper over once or twice, considering . "I suppose we should talk to the smith about this. It seems odd that he'd be getting it inscribed that way."
She looks out of the window, frowning.
"I'm sure your staff wouldn't Cham! I wonder if anyone else saw our mystery man here in the Ramblehouse that could describe him better. When we arrived, were there other people about? Maybe we can check with them too."
In Rodrik's room, Robin comes around once Hilde spots the note. "Oh, from Clamour. Urnsul is one of the newer apprentices. It's definitely odd that he'd want a knife dedicated to himself, but I've seen weirder things people have ordered. Urnsul probably knows the whole story, or even Sara."
Robin joins Hilde in checking the window and looking around the room for any other hidden things.
Brinya seems to be tired but she has one more thought. ”Vethorm, you knew him somewhat. Was his journal found with him? He almost never went without, even on patrol. I’d like to have it if you find it. His writing may be the only memories I have of him.”
”I thank you both for the kind words. Rodrik spoke well of both of you at times, so I am relieved to know you cared for him as well.”
"I don't know. I'll have to check with the others who are investigating the Ramblehouse. But it'll be good to keep an eye out for it as we look into this. May give us some insight into what he was doing, and when that's done of course we'll bring it to you."
He turns to Purg.
"Let's go."
He leads the goblin out of the home and makes his way towards the Ramblehouse to rejoin the others.
"What news, what have you found?" he immediately asks when he spots them.
"Found a receipt for a hopeknife...enscribes as if it was from Brinya to Roderick...which is an odd thing for him to have." Ranhild replies, sharing their findings when the groups reconvene.
Robin nods to Ranhild's comment when Vethorm returns "As well as a mystery man who checked in the same night as Rodrick's murder, but then disappeared! I'd say that's very suspicious. Unfortunately Cham doesn't remember what he looked like well enough for us to be able to track him down. What about you two?"
"Brinya say Rod-Rick lose hope knife and he have to make right, so maybe that him make right?" Purg seems confused. "She also say look for journal. Anyone find journal?"
"No. There was a hidden drawer in the desk, but it was empty." Then the dwarf unpacks the rest of what Purg said and smiles, a little sadly. "So Brinya and Rodrick had exchanged their hopeknives, and he lost hers?"
Having no real experience at solving crimes, Wild waits patiently while the others try to fit the pieces together. He scratches his bald head and silently thinks to himself in a moment of uncharacteristic calmness.
Clearly, Rodrik was an important person to so many... If I help them find the answers, they will surely help me! So many questions to answer: Missing hopeknife? Missing journal? Missing key? Missing mystery human? Where do we find them?"
"No. There was a hidden drawer in the desk, but it was empty." Then the dwarf unpacks the rest of what Purg said and smiles, a little sadly. "So Brinya and Rodrick had exchanged their hopeknives, and he lost hers?"
Vethorm nods and draws the knife to show it to the others.
"Aye, and it ain't this one. Which means this belonged to the murderer. According to Brinya, Rodrik hoped to recover his hopeknife in the course of the investigation he was doing. Seeing as the journal's missing, it's obvious whatever Rodrik was looking into, whoever was involved really, REALLY wanted to make sure he didn't tell anyone," he says grimly.
He thinks a bit on what they've told him, scratching the back of his head. "Does seem odd that Rodrik'd be the one to place the order for the hopeknife that would eventually be given to him. If I'd known this before visiting Brinya I'd have asked her..."
Then his eyes widen and he turns to Robin. "Rob, you wouldn't have heard anything about this through shop gossip in Clamour, would you?"
He thinks a bit on what they've told him, scratching the back of his head. "Does seem odd that Rodrik'd be the one to place the order for the hopeknife that would eventually be given to him. If I'd known this before visiting Brinya I'd have asked her..."
"Well, he lost the one she'd originally given him, so he ordered a replacement for it--including the inscription she'd had put onto it before she gave it to him."
Vethorm shakes his head.
"Nah, Rodrik would have been too conscientious for that. There was already enough chatter about how him and his old man were butting horns on the betrothal. Jagrin doesn't like orc-kin. Never liked me, so you can bet he had s*** to say about his golden boy marrying a dromaar girl. It's why he was at the Ramblehouse last night instead of with the other Graths at the Longhouse. He wouldn't have done something so callous as just replace his missing hopeknife and hope Sara or Robin didn't gossip with anyone. Not that you WOULD gossip about that s***, Rob, but Rodrik wouldn't have known that..."
"Oh you'd best believe I'd gossip about something like this if I heard about it. Losing a hopeknife given to you by your love? That's drama right there." Robin grins "But I hadn't heard about it. Urnsul was the one that made it supposedly, and they're another of the apprentices. I bet they kept it really quiet for Rodrik's sake, though we can ask."
"Vethorm, I think I'm with Miss Hilde on this one. If that hopeknife was an engagement exchange, he would have been eager to quietly fix his mistake in losing it, assuming he couldn't find it. Maybe he swore Urnsul to secrecy." Robin clasps his hands together "That all said, Urnsul might've been one of the last people to see Rodrick. Given Brinya said they spoke yesterday, then Rodrick must've put the order in just last night before he retired to his room."
"Also, Sara might be able to identify our murder hopeknife. If it wasn't Rodrick's then maybe she knows who it was made for."
"Ooh, maybe Purg can ask for his own hopeknife. Or maybe this not the time to ask. Purg agree that Rod-Rick probably buy new knife to make nice lady not angry. Is good idea talk to smiths. Purg really not like go there because it hurt his ears." Purg lets loose with a flow of words, largely following up on what Robin was saying. Dwarf lady was smart, though she still hadn't told Purg what her god did. He'd have to remember to ask her again. Hey, wait, he was here again. "By the way Dwarf lady, what is your god the god of?"
"Oh you'd best believe I'd gossip about something like this if I heard about it. Losing a hopeknife given to you by your love? That's drama right there." Robin grins "But I hadn't heard about it. Urnsul was the one that made it supposedly, and they're another of the apprentices. I bet they kept it really quiet for Rodrik's sake, though we can ask."
"Vethorm, I think I'm with Miss Hilde on this one. If that hopeknife was an engagement exchange, he would have been eager to quietly fix his mistake in losing it, assuming he couldn't find it. Maybe he swore Urnsul to secrecy." Robin clasps his hands together "That all said, Urnsul might've been one of the last people to see Rodrick. Given Brinya said they spoke yesterday, then Rodrick must've put the order in just last night before he retired to his room."
"Also, Sara might be able to identify our murder hopeknife. If it wasn't Rodrick's then maybe she knows who it was made for."
Vethorm rolls his eyes.
"I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, ya slyboots!" he says. Then he sighs. "I just thought Rodrik'd be better than that. He certainly always seemed like that to me. I'd get in trouble in the militia, Rodrik'd stand up for me, even to his old man. Even if I fully deserved that trouble. Didn't think Rodrick would try to get out of trouble the way I would."
"Ooh, maybe Purg can ask for his own hopeknife. Or maybe this not the time to ask. Purg agree that Rod-Rick probably buy new knife to make nice lady not angry. Is good idea talk to smiths. Purg really not like go there because it hurt his ears." Purg lets loose with a flow of words, largely following up on what Robin was saying. Dwarf lady was smart, though she still hadn't told Purg what her god did. He'd have to remember to ask her again. Hey, wait, he was here again. "By the way Dwarf lady, what is your god the god of?"
He nods to Purg.
"We can do that once we've got this done, mayhaps. When IS your birthday anyway, Purg?"
"Purg not know real birthday, so we make one up. They call Purg three when he found, and Purg found on one-two of tree god month. Purg will be one-four! Big adult is Purg." Purg nods, then stops quickly because he was getting dizzy.
He tried coming up with something that could occupy his time while the rest of them went to the blacksmiths, but he really couldn't. What a sad state of affairs. It would be headaches and ear pain all day if they were active.
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As Cham listed to the questions she thinks. She looks at Robin and explains that they can feel free to question any of the staff and patrons, but it’s less an issue of memory and more that the man wasn’t that memorable. He had few features that stood out.
As Hilde mentions the hidden drawer, Cham explains that most every room in Ramblehouse has such a feature, though only the regulars really know about them. Rodrik would certainly have known of it and would have kept anything he thought important in there.
Also, Hilde notes the window does open easily, though it is locked currently. There does not seem to be any sign that the window was used as a way in or out of the room, though in theory it could be.
When Robin looks at the receipt from Clamor he can confirm that it seems authentic and while it shows Urnsul as the smith assigned to it, that assignment would have been made by Sara herself. The receipt appears to be written in her handwriting. Upon examining the hopeknife itself, it is clearly of good craftsmanship and the material matches the stock Robin is familiar with. The knife appears unfinished though, or rather rough. It appears the finishing touches were never made to it.
As the group is finishing up in Rodrik’s room, a young halfling woman approaches Cham. ”Mistress Larringfass, should we begin cleaning the other rooms now that the militia has begun to look into things? We have guests who will need rooms later tonight.”
Somehow managing to glean their next destination from the group conversation, Wild pipes up abruptly.
"Clamour house! Yes! Orcs make good weapons. Big weapons. It is good that you know weapons. Good makers mark their weapons. I know weapons too!"
He shows the others some weapons from his arsenal that he crafted recently. Though made in haste, they do appear sturdy enough.
"If clan-friend Purg wants a hopeknife for his age day, I will make one. Maybe someday we all share bond stones too. Ah ha!"
Wild will then happily join the group on a trip to the local blacksmith. He waves to Cham before departing. "Collected enough questions here, I did. Time to make death meet clan-killer."
"Purg not know real birthday, so we make one up. They call Purg three when he found, and Purg found on one-two of tree god month. Purg will be one-four! Big adult is Purg." Purg nods, then stops quickly because he was getting dizzy.
He tried coming up with something that could occupy his time while the rest of them went to the blacksmiths, but he really couldn't. What a sad state of affairs. It would be headaches and ear pain all day if they were active.
"So...Gozran 2nd?" Vethorm replies.
"So...Gozran 2nd?" Vethorm replies.
"No, one-two. A one and then a two. Like what keep going after nine. And tree-god. Er-a-stil. But have funny name because is month." He was speaking good common, and people were not understanding. This is why life would be simpler if everyone spoke Goblin like sensible people. Common didn't have words that made sense. Like hope-knife. How can hope be a knife? A knife is a weapon. Also a tool for eating food. Food. Purg was getting hungry.
"Oh, twelve. Erastus twelfth."
Robin sighs with his full body before answering Cham "I guess if no one else got a good look at this mystery man, we'll have to find him some other way. I can't believe you didn't even get a name. You should probably keep that room the same for now - who knows if there's something there we're missing."
He turns to the others "On to Clamour then? Urnsul handling a hopeknife order seems a little odd. Sara likes to do those. We can ask them both when we're there." Unless someone else wants to stay behind, he leads the way on.