"Killin' Grounds sound like a right place to find a killer to me. I will go to there."
Wild responds to Vethorm with a bit more of his usual enthusiasm.
"And if a fight on the ground, the killer wants! I will give it!"
Responding to the comment about Sara, Robin nods confidently "Sara may be strict, but she's a wonderfully kind person. I'm afraid that maybe Urnsul took advantage..."
At the question about the cart he says "I suppose we can describe it, but it seemed like an ordinary cart to me. If the militia was just waving them through without inspecting whether the cages inside were full of wolves, then... maybe this is a bit of a dead end." He nods to Wild "But Rabus at the Killing Ground is a lead."
"I'm not sure if we have time to nurse Omast back to health, as nice as that would be. Vethorm if you think you can help him, it might make sense to split up."
"Killin' Grounds sound like a right place to find a killer to me. I will go to there."
Wild responds to Vethorm with a bit more of his usual enthusiasm.
"And if a fight on the ground, the killer wants! I will give it!"
"Don't get too excited, The Killin' Ground is just a bar. Rabus doesn't let anyone get drunk enough to make trouble..." Vethorm says. Then he blinks. "Rabus knows the shift schedule better than anyone. He has to, because he's not allowed to let someone drink within four hours of their shift...if anyone would know who was watching the Barterstones at the time that wagon got here, he would!"
Ranhild accompanies the others to speak with Kurst, silently taking note of the details.
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While the group continues walking and thinking of the possible next steps, Jonathann approaches the door of a modest house. He knocks lightly but the door opens almost too quickly. Kurst appears in the open doorway, a weary smile on his face which slowly fades as he notices the serious look the group has. "What is it Jon? Trouble?"
Jonathann nods a little. "Yeah" he says simply. "There's been an attack. Some rabid wolves were released in town. Vethorm and the others you had looking into Rodrik's death averted any serious injuries it seems, but we felt you should know. I brought them along to tell you the details themselves."
Kurst looks back inside the home and closes the door behind him as he steps outside. "My father cannot know of this." Kurst looks down the road and motions for the group to follow him. "Now what exactly happened? There were wolves within the walls, and they attacked some people? How did they get inside the walls?
"There was a cart, I guess, and..." Jonathann cuts himself off after a moment. "I should let them tell it. They know it better."
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Purg takes a deep breath. His chest and head both swell with the inhalation. "Purg go to party last night, party very fun and Purg very strong so pull over guard men. Help new adult girl do it. Also pull Vethorm because Purg very strong, like Purg say. Purg wake up today someone want Purg inves... look into Rod-Rick death but there not many clue except Rod-Rick kill with hope-knife but not Rod-Rick hope-knife because Rod-Rick give hope-knife to girlfriend but get new one made because he lose hers. ANYWAY, while we looking into the death of Rod-Rick we hear screaming because Purg have best ears. We go to wall and there wolves biting people! We take care of wolves and not many people get bit. Wolves may be rabid, but that concern for temple not Purg. Friends look into person who craft hope-knife also disappear, may be important may not. Omast very drunk because Rod-Rick die, Purg think this bad idea but not Purg place. So now we try to find out who let wolves in and if anyone know about person who stay at Ramblehouse only one night and probably kill Rod-Rick so we asking guards and that you."
Purg falls down, and starts panting heavily.
Wild grins widely and applauds Purg's oratory performance, starting off with a slow clap in hopes that others will join in.
Anxious as Purg tells the tale, Robin adds "We think all these things might be connected. The wolves might have been there to cover the trail of whoever did the actual murder, or an accomplice. And if they could sneak a whole wagon of rapid wolves into town, who knows what else they might've planned out. We're trying to find them, but it's hard to find anyone who saw anything concrete."
Vethorm blinks in surprise a bit as Purg relays the events of the day pretty concisely, but doesn't clap along with Wild.
"Yeah, pretty much what Purg said. We've got a few leads, we need to figure out where Urnsul got to, because she's probably an accomplice, and I figure Rabus at the Killin' Ground will probably know who was patrolling the Stones at the time that cart came in. But it IS starting to look less like a single murder and more like a conspiracy. One I suspect Rodrik was on the verge of exposing."
He frowns a bit sadly to Kurst.
"How...how's Jagrin holding up? How are YOU holding up?"
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As Purg goes on Kurst’s eyes widen. The longer the goblin goes, the wider and more worrisome. He spares a glance from Jonathan to Vethorm, but unfortunately he finds little comfort there for now. He tries in vain to get Purg to pause, but he sighs and waits as there is little more to do. Finally Purg finishes and falls to the ground.
Kurst opens his mouth to speak but is further interrupted by Wild’s slow applause. He stares, mouth slack, at the fiery gnome when Jonathann begins to clap along with Wild. A quick glance from Kurst stops him abruptly. ”Sorry,” is all Jonathann says as he collects Wild’s hands and gently lowers them.
”Thanks Purg.” Kurst acknowledges the effort he just witnessed. ”I trust you all have been doing your best. Let me make sure I got all of this. The hope knife found with Rodrick was definitely not his, but you discovered it was a replacement for Brinya’s which he carried but lost? Brinya confirms she has Rodrick’s knife still then?”
Kurst pauses a moment to collect his thoughts but motions to let him finish. ”Then there was an attack by wolves? Within the walls?” He looks at Jonathann a moment before continuing. ”And Jonathann said something about a cart. I assume the wolves are linked to it somehow.”
”Wait, Purg, you mentioned that the person who crafted the knife is missing. What has happened to Sara? And Urnsul is also missing? Vethorm, you don’t think they had something to do with? Urnsul maybe, but not Sara, that’s just not possible.”
Kurst again pauses to think. ”Rabus could tell you who was on duty, but I’m not sure he would know all the positions each night. He might though. Omast would know, and my father’s notes would show it as well. Omast is off the wagon again from what Purg said, so I doubt he would remember in his current state. That leaves the notes, but it will take me a few to gather them.”
”It sounds like you have it right,” Kurst says to wrap up. ”There is more going on in town than simple murder. What it is I am unsure, but it sounds like you have some leads. It’s getting on to evening soon, perhaps you could check in at Sanctuary so they can prepare his body, and then call it a night. Jonathann can make sure the men are on alert for anything unusual. And I can see about those notes.”
Jonathann motions to Kurst and interjects for a moment. ”I asked Vethorm to see if he can talk to Omast. Perhaps if they can get him clear, even for a few minutes, Omast would be able to answer their questions.”
Kurst looks at Vethorm and the others. ”If you think you would be up for it, that might work out better. Neither option is great. Jagrin or Omast, if only we could ask Rodrick himself this time.”
Kurst steps aside and leaves the group with Jonathann to plan their next steps. He motions for Vethorm to join him as he walks slowly back towards his home. ”Vethorm, brother, I am tired. I was never intended to lead in my father’s place. I can’t begin to thank you, and the others, for helping figure out what is happening in Trunau.” Kurst stops in the street but continues to talk. ”Jagrin is worse though. He may not recover from this. He blames himself and he definitely feels that he drove Rodrick to end it. To be honest, I blame him a little as well. He drove Rodrick from our home with his blind hatred.”
Kurst rests a hand on Vethorm’s shoulder. ”Please do what you can, but I mean it about resting. If you run yourself down, you won’t be at your best. And I fear Trunau needs us all at our best now.”
"Whether Urnsul is an intentional accomplice or not, I'm sure she knows more. And yes, it is starting to look like one of those plays Vethorm. The ones that end with the girl and her beloved both dying to the nefarious villain in a blood soaked tragedy." Robin offers, worriedly biting his lip.
Asking Kurst, Robin adds "All told, I'm not sure we can afford to rest right now, not and give whoever did this another eight hours to either get further away or continue with their plans, whatever they might be. Before anything else, I think we should talk to Rabus and Omast then, though it sounds like the most important are your father's notes. Is there anything we can do to make that last one quicker?"
"Otherwise, maybe the guard should do a search through town for any other mystery wagons left behind. It might not be more wolves, but it could be something else sinister, lying in wait."
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Kurst looks back at Robin and the exhaustion is clear in his eyes. "Thank you all." He is clearly starting to feel the weight of what is now resting on him. "Robin, Omast would be able to answer as well as my father could but both situations present a challenge. Omast's drunken state means he will need to be shown the greater good again. My father's grief makes him difficult to convince of the truth."
"I cannot manage both tasks, and while I appreciate the offer to help with my father, I don't feel anyone else would be able to get through to him. You are welcome to try, but I feel you and your companions would have better luck with Omast." He nods to Vethorm and Purg briefly. "Especially these two."
"As for a search. It is getting on towards evening soon, but the men could handle it. Jonathann here can set it up. I agree that this is likely a good idea, then again, so is a rested team. Don't wear yourself out."
"Yeah, I'll go talk to Omast. Last thing Jagrin probably wants right now is to see my troublemakin' face," Vethorm replies. Before the group separates, however, he offers Kurst another hug. "Good luck. Gods know you got a lot dumped on you this morning, hope an argument doesn't get added to it. If you...if you need anything else...you know where to find me."
He swallows and the green of his face becomes a touch darker.
"I've dealt with plenty of dwarves who've been chased into the bottle by the Black Dog...I may be able to help Omast out of it."
Robin shrugs uncomfortably. He can fear Kurst's exhaustion reflecting in his own growing tiredness, but he feels too anxious to stop now. "Well, if you think you'll have the best chance with your dad, we'll leave it to you."
"I guess we should split up like we were planning, but carefully, to talk to both of our next leads at once. Then we can meet back up and think about resting. Though I'm not sure I'm going to be able to with a murderer on the loose..."
Purg is not sure who he can talk to. He didn't have family like this so he didn't understand how to talk to people about these things. He surely doesn't feel up to talking to Omast. "Yes, Purg hungry... maybe good to rest for Purg."
"Feel free to rest if you need Purg, but I could use your help with Rabus too."
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Even though Kurst appears to have aged a year in just this day, he manages a weary smile as the party once again shows dedication to finding what has truly happened to Rodrik. ”Thank you all,” he says. ”I will see what I can find here with my father. If I find anything out before morning, I will send word to you, otherwise I will find you in the morning to talk. I hope you can learn more from Omast and Rabus. Rodrik was as much family to Omast as Vethorm is to me, keep that in mind when speaking with him. Your words may sting him if you are not careful, and his words may sting you but they are not meant too.”
Then he turns to Jonathann and begins discussing a plan to do a sweep of the town for anything else suspicious. After a quick moment, Jonathann assure him it will be handled, and Kurst returns his focus to the group. ”I can’t begin to show how much I appreciate you helping out. I must return to my father before he comes to find me. It pains me to say it, but even him seeing me speaking to some of you…” He trails off for a moment and looks sadly at Vethorm. ”Well, it may incite him again. I hope you have success tonight. I will send word or come find you if I find anything that would help.”
With a final look at the group, Kurst turns to leave. Jonathann looks at the group before he goes as well. ”We will search and likewise come find you if we find anything unusual. I know since finding Rodrik this morning, we have been on alert. I hope that means we can be assured nothing more has come in or left, but I understand the concern. Good luck.” He pauses for a moment and then looks at Purg. ”A good rest could help, but you know Rabus likely has some stew if you wanted to go with your companions anyways.”
The party is left to themselves in the street after any last words with Kurst and Jonathann. The way to the Longhouse passes the Killing Ground, so the party can travel together and talk, or plan.
Disheartened and slightly confused by all that is happening, Wild resolves to move on with the others toward their next destination.
"Cannot fight sadness here. Killing Grounds will be better: Stew food and vengeance."
He speaks with Purg and Robin along the walk, but not quietly enough that others cannot hear.
"No need for me to rest yet with the Ramblehouse not safe to us now and a killer loosed and uncaught, stabbing sleepers. If we do not deal out death before dark, we could hide somewhere unknown. Secret is safer."
"As paranoid as that sounds Wild... I, uh, wouldn't mind a safe hiding place for tonight. Especially I wouldn't want to draw some misfortune on people at the Ramblehouse, or back where I'm staying." Robin shakes his head "But we probably will need to rest eventually. Where are you thinking we can squirrel ourselves?"
"Not a bad decision considering there is, after all, a killer still at large, by all signs." Ranhild mutters quietly.
Scratching his bald head for a moment, Wild responds to Robin.
"Hmm. Don't know town dwelling here. So much light... but empty, dark places are best. Old places. Lost places. Places no one goes. Groetus shows seekers of respite to seek ruins."
He looks up at the dainty human inquisitively.
"Know you these places?"
"Not sure if you'll find empty, lost places right here in town. Unless we're talking about the bottom of Omast's cup. But we could see if we could stay in the Longhouse, at least then we'd be surrounded by other trained people."
Purg looks at the others. Sleep not at home? How could Purg sleep not at home? "No, Purg stay at home. Purg sleep with crossbow, and Purg hear everything... though Purg not hear much last night, but Purg sure he hear if anyone touch his door. Purg can big-lock door and window. If you worried can sleep in Purg room."
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Scratching his bald head for a moment, Wild responds to Robin.
"Hmm. Don't know town dwelling here. So much light... but empty, dark places are best. Old places. Lost places. Places no one goes. Groetus shows seekers of respite to seek ruins."
He looks up at the dainty human inquisitively.
"Know you these places?"
"Not sure if you'll find empty, lost places right here in town. Unless we're talking about the bottom of Omast's cup. But we could see if we could stay in the Longhouse, at least then we'd be surrounded by other trained people."
"Not IN town, anyway," Vethorm chimes in. "But there IS a place like that: The Plague House. It's the old, burned church of Iomedae, just outside the walls on the south side. People have been saying it's haunted for years. Back when I was a kid, a brother and sister of mine dared each other to spend the night there. Woke up half the town when they got scared and ran around the palisade screaming like they were being chased by an orc warband, all the way to the gate. Our parents kinda cry-laughed because they'd been worried and also because it was so f&@%'in embarrassing that the militia'd gotten out of bed and mustered to repel a night attack that turned out to just be two dumb kids, and a bunch of other folks had gotten up to see what was going on. I just laughed, since it was once where I wasn't the one being embarassed. But even after that I never worked up the guts to go there myself."
Once they arrive at the Killin' Ground and take in the scene, Vethorm exhales forcefully through his nose a bit.
"Looks like we got here just in time."
He immediately heads up to the bar.
"Hey, hey, easy Rabus. Kurst sent us, we'll take it from here."
"The Plague House? I can't say I fancy the thought of staying in an abandoned dwelling with such a foreboding name. Not that I think it might actually be haunted, of course." Robin crosses his arms "Of course not. That would be silly." He looks a little paler than usual "I'd rather take a nice bedroll and sleep under the stars if we're already consider a place outside town."
He follows Vethorm into the tavern. "Maybe we can stay with Purg. Where are you again Purg?"
Purg looks curiously at Robin. "Purg live in Ramblehouse, with other small one." He thought he had said this before, but maybe it was not to Robin. "Usual very safe, except last night."
Upon entering the tavern and seeing the disagreements in progress, Purg is glad that Vethorm was taking control of the situation. It would likely not have gone as well if Purg tried to talk to the big folk about their disagreements and drunk-ness.
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Both Rabus and Omast look over at Vethorm as he stands at the bar and interrupting them. "Ve, he's making it hard ta be civil." Rabus snarls as he pushes Omast away from the bar. "He's family ta the Graths, but he's a mess ova Roddie. I can calm the rest down, but he needs to keep quiet."
Omast stumbles away, slumping down heavily in a nearby chair. "Ungratef'll!" Omast shouts to the gathering crowd. "Thesh folks neva respect'd Rodrik. They neva could accept wat he gave up. And you, V'thom, he gave ya every chance. And ya blew it!"
Wild beams at hearing Vethorm's story.
"Yes! House like that is sacred. Walls and locked rooms do not keep you safe from doom. Scary place!? Yes.. but sacred. We will take our guts and go after together. All the bravest are welcome."
Blah! Can't try to blame me for the human's death if I don't stay at that Ramblehouse anymore. Lost my room key anyway...
He stays close to the half-orc for the rest of the walk to The Killin' Ground, even all the way up to the bar. When the drunken man lashes out at Vethorm with insults, Wild interjects with raised fists ready to strike but looks back for confirmation.
"AH HA! We have you at last! This IS the killer we kill now?"
"I uh, doubt it Wild." Robin looks vaguely embarrassed at the scene being made by the two older men at the bar. He quietly offers an aside "I think they're just smashed. I wonder what Vethorm did though."
Both Rabus and Omast look over at Vethorm as he stands at the bar and interrupting them. "Ve, he's making it hard ta be civil." Rabus snarls as he pushes Omast away from the bar. "He's family ta the Graths, but he's a mess ova Roddie. I can calm the rest down, but he needs to keep quiet."
Omast stumbles away, slumping down heavily in a nearby chair. "Ungratef'll!" Omast shouts to the gathering crowd. "Thesh folks neva respect'd Rodrik. They neva could accept wat he gave up. And you, V'thom, he gave ya every chance. And ya blew it!"
Vethorm sighs a bit as Omast lambasts him.
"You're not saying anything I haven't said to myself, Omast. Many, many times today, as a matter of fact," he says sadly. He's not exactly sure which of his many failures Omast is referring to, or if it's just that he failed to prevent Rodrik's murder by letting him return to the Ramblehouse on his own last night, but both prospects equally felt like s&*~ in Rodrik's absence.
Robin waits to see if Vethorm can calm Omast down, figuring that Rabus doesn't have to deal with the distraught drunkard he might be more amenable to a chat about who's been seen around and where.
Purg doesn't like the fighting and so he stays just outside. Yelling in an enclosed area also hurt him, so it wouldn't do him any good to be in there anyway. Why did this sort of thing have to happen? Would Purg be safer if he was not in Trunau? No, it was very not-safe out there beyond the walls. Then again, it was not safe inside the walls right now. The world was a very scary place.
Purg takes out some sticks and a very small pocket knife and begins whittling some wood into proper bolt-like objects. He'd have to put on the fletching later when he was in a proper station, but this kept his hands occupied so maybe his enormous Goblin brain could be quiet for a little while.
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Omast narrows his eyes as Vethorm tries to connect with the drunken man. "Well, yur lot neva work out." He leans forward to stand but his feet slide and he nearly falls, but catches himself on a nearby table. "More e'nd more of you haf-breds been comin round. I feel, I... The old guard stops as a sob catches him, and his head falls into his hands as he cries.
"Roddie's dead!" he yells. "D' you knew thaa? Kust, Kurrr, sorry. Kurst say ya are go'in to find who did tis. C'nn no say I be'live it. Twarves and you," he continues motioning to Robin, Hilde, and Ranhild. "smiff, ya keep eyes on who ya stik wif."
Vethorm grimaces at the obvious bait but doesn't feel any true sense of anger. More embarrassment that Omast reached for it so casually and then seemed to give up so quickly. Best not to scratch that scab lest it open and REALLY start bleeding, no matter how much praise his grandmother had heaped on his scars.
"We're ALL grieving Rodrik's death, Omast. I get it. You wish you could have been there, saved him. I wish the exact same thing. He was my friend too. He saw good in me that I couldn't see in myself. He stuck with me, and he stuck with you too. He knew you were better than this. I'd bet gold he told you as much. He wouldn't wanna see you like this any more than I would. The drinking...it makes the grief hurt MORE."
Robin shakes his head to Omast "Vethorm? He's with us working out who the culprit is. He's working hard too, and we're happy to have him."
Ranhild's eyes narrow as the guard's drunken state reveals his true, bigoted thinking. It figured that Trunau's seemingly open-to-all atmosphere was just a front.
"Not the killer say you? Hmph!"
Wilds huffs at Robin and relaxes his offensive stance. It seems the old guard and Vethorm will not be bloodying themselves over harsh conversation this evening.
I do not understand the townsfolk here. If these were full blooded orcs or hryngar, we'd all be knee deep in gore for slinging words like that... Perhaps the undrunk man will know more.
He slowly retreats to the counter and climbs onto a stool, standing on its seat to match eye height with Rabus.
"Hail Drink Keeper! We seek the Inn-Killer for revenging. What killers passed through these grounds this day?"
He looks around from side to side.
"And where are your blood pits?"
"We don't do that s*$! here!" Vethorm snaps, shooting a glare at Wild before recovering his composure. "Sorry, Omast...he's an out-of-towner. And a madman."
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The old guard waves off Vethorm's attempt to get him to see reason and focuses on Robin for the moment. "I's know Kurss has a soft spot f'r 'im." Omast motions to Vethorm. "But I had hoped it would't rub'f on Rodd'e. Too much. But th't boy ben spendin too much time with dat lazy cursed haf-breed, Katrezra. He come d'n da mount'ins an just says da craz'st t'ings. I know Roddie bee spendin more time at Sanctary wit 'im."
At Wild's change in the subject and Vethrom's reaction, Omast smiles. "Ta 'el is up wit him? Ey! Drik-eep'r, notha round!"
As Wild calls, Rabus leans over the bar to size up the gnome. "No killers comin' round here. At least none th't call themselves killers. Plus, no way Jargin or the Grath brothers would accept that in town. Nor Halgra, and she'd be less friendly 'bout it." With that cleared he smiles and continues. "Now what can I get ya? Though, don't share with that drunk."
In response to Rabus, Omast shoots an offensive gesture and turns back to Vethorm and Robin. "Kur't had t'right in ask'in you ta find Roddie's killer. He's gre't at hunt and p, p'trols, but 'es not ready to tak led. Roddie was, but now... " At the thought of Rodrik again, Omast breaks down into weeping. His love for Rodrik and Kurst is clear, but it seems his own prejudices are coming to light as well. It's not a popular view but there are some in town who support Jargin and his hatred of orcs.
Vethorm, his mood already souring, stiffens a bit as the conversation shifts to someone else he knows.
"Hey! Not a WORD against Katrezra! The old man's been through a LOT in his life, and he DESERVES his retirement! He's got a lot of wisdom if you'd just be willing to sodding LISTEN!"
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Even outside, Purg hears the yelling. The heated voices weren't that surprising. Who wouldn't be mad in these situations? And drinking didn't help anything. Purg tried drinking once, it didn't go well. He had liked that shirt. At least he was able to use it as nose wipes after they washed it a few times and cut out the gunkiest parts.
He really hoped there wasn't going to be a fight. He was useless in fistfights, and really didn't think a spear or a crossbow was the sort of thing you used in a bar fight. If there was a bar fight, was he expected to take part as a sober guard member? These were big questions. The sort of questions he could have asked Rod-Rick. But Rod-Rick was dead. Now who would Purg ask the questions?
"My sadness is real. I have no tears for my eyes. My heart is heavy." It was not good Goblin poetry, but someone teach him about this type of poem. Some time it feel good to put feelings to words. Maybe Purg would have to use one of his nose wipes soon. "Why it never rain when Purg need it to?" He was suddenly very thankful that most of the people were in the bar, so he didn't have to explain things. Being a Goblin in a human settlement was very hard.
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Wild inhales deeply before delivering his rebuttal to Vethorm in an equally raised voice.
Do you not see!? Has the stinging orb of this cursed Skycave burned too bright!? Everything is wrong here! The orcs do not act like orcs! The dwarves do not act like dwarves! The Wolfmaster abandons their pack. The earth does not soothe! The so-called ‘Killin’ Ground’ is not stained with blood! Killers kill in secret, safe places, too afraid to call themselves killers! The good and strong die without reason… and hang their hope on the edge of a knife!”
He takes a second to breathe and lowers his tone.
”Can you not smell the doom that is upon us? Yes! It is madness… and I am here to help you!”
Sharing his signature crooked-toothed smile momentarily for dramatic effect, Wild then plops down onto the seat properly and faces Rabus in a sheepish voice.
”Got any mushroom brew?”
Vethorm's eyes widen at Wild's impromptu speech. Dozens of bad memories come flooding to his mind unbidden, and he hears another voice alongside the gnome's. A raucous, cruel voice, exhorting him to embrace the pain, that it would make him strong, that there was greatness in his blood that needed to be drawn out and leave the scars to prove it. He begins shaking a bit, the marks on his face begin to burn as the old pain returns, the pain he'd hoped would have died with her, but here this gnome was, parroting her words without knowing it. The fear and anger and self-loathing began to roil in his chest until it boiled out of his mouth.
He stands up and storms towards the door.
Robin leans in to try to understand Omast's mumblings and rumblings a little better and immediately regrets it as a wave of his intoxicated breath hits him. He gets a few scraps here and there, enough to answer "Rodrick was a fine fellow, and I'm confident we're on his killer's trail. As for Kurst, well, he's already stepping up to the challenge, I think. You should have seen him today." He tentatively pats the drunkard on the back "You probably missed out since you were drinking here."
The mention of Katresza and Rodrick meeting more often gets filed away for later. Maybe nothing, and certainly not what Omast is imagining, but another person to talk to nonetheless.
Robin's attention is drawn for a moment by Wild's speech, which he follows with a polite clap, taking it to be some kind of impromptu, impassioned performance or a play or something similar. He follows by turning to Rabus "Quite the chaotic evening. I'll take just a nightcap." After he gets a drink he adds "With Omast out of sorts, I'm hoping you've been keeping an eye on people coming and going. Have you seen Urnsul recently? She disappeared just a day ago, during the celebration. And also, there was a tall visitor at the Ramblehouse, a stranger Cham didn't pay much attention to, who stayed only a single night. Would have also been the same night that Rodrick was killed. I'm wondering if you saw anyone from out of town by themselves that drew any attention."
Ranhild takes a deep breath as Robin attempts to get the investigation back on track, choosing not to focus on the escalating drama around them.
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At Wild’s speech, Rabus seems taken aback by the thought of the bar being stained in blood. He seems about to berate the gnome but is stunned at the sudden change in his tone when asking for a drink. ”What?” Rabus says with wide eyes as though he were slapped. He shakes his head and smiles slightly as he turns to pour an ale. ”Sorry, no mushrooms. Just ale. Here you go, you strange little man.”
Omast for his part is trying to focus on the conversation as Robin speaks with him, but the shouting from Vethorm and Wild keeps pulling his attention away. ”Yeh I’ve drink-k ‘fore. With Roddie dead, w’y not? Who’d care?” He stands and follows Robin to the bar and listens to what Rabus has to say.
Aye, I’ve seen people who aren’t from town,” Rabus responds to Robin’s question. ”But, no one that was suspicious. And while they may not be locals, most of them aren’t strangers. As for Urnsul, yeah, I seen her. She stopped in the night of the Ruby’s celebration. She seemed almost excited but when I asked ‘bout it, she said she’s “sorry to miss the festivities.” I just thought she’d meant about the Hopeknife thing. Do you think she’s got something to do with Rodrik’s death?”
At that point Omast shouts. ”How cudd Sh-ra bring on dat green beash?” Omast slams his fist on the bar, knocking over a mug, spilling the ale on the floor. ”She shud know bett’r. If she broght Rodrik’s killer in, she should share thir fate.”
He then turns to Rabus at the bar. ”Now giv m’nother ale!” Rabus looks pleadingly at Robin and then Vethorm. Omast sees the look and begins to taunt the barkeep. ”Why ya lookin to dem? Ya da b’keep, well kep’em comin.” Then he snorts out a laugh at his own joke.