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The Saringallow Seekers follow the sewer east until they reach a fork in the path. They can continue going east (which likely parallels the shoreline) or take a slightly smaller corridor that turns north and should – theoretically – take them below the market square and destinations beyond. A quick look at the scuff marks show that both passages have seen quite a bit of travel. It would be difficult to say which path looks more used.
Rolls for Later:
Hannelia detects no magic in the area and there is no obvious ‘flow’ to the scuff marks. With only a little effort, it’s possible to find spots in the sewer where voices from above are strangely amplified. The heroes can even make out bits of day-to-day conversation from people walking by – mostly outlandish speculation about the Market Square Battle, as it is now being called. Embarrassingly, there are at least a couple people who think a statue to the Saringallow Seekers should be erected in the square to commemorate your victory. Carried as she is, on Roger’s shoulders, Majara takes a close look at the grates. Finding something odd, she has Roger carry her to two more grates for comparison. The grates are made of stout timbers supported by and nailed to thinner iron plates. The holes they fill are perhaps 3’ by 2’. A strong man could lift one with some effort. Two men could do so with relative ease. In the course of her snooping, Majara notices that some of the grates have areas where the dirt has been worn away, suggesting that the under sides of the grates have been handled. Further, she finds evidence that some of the grates have been skillfully cut in half. Even a person with average strength could move one of the half-grate pieces. Given how the grates are inset in the cobbled streets, the alchemist imagines they might move a bit more when stepped upon but would otherwise still be quite solid and support any passing weight. Quick Factoids: * No magic is detected. * There is no obvious pattern of movement to the scuff marks, so you’d guess they come and go from both directions. * One could eavesdrop somewhat on the street above – certainly enough to hear close voices and some portion of what they are saying. Sewers have some remarkable acoustics. * The modified grates can be moved by someone with normal strength and the gaps are large enough to allow a slender human-sized or smaller creature to pass through.
Having come through the disconcertingly narrow passage, your group finds themselves in something of sewage thoroughfare – a wide central passage that extends in either direction as far as the eye can see and the light lasts. Given the southwest to northeast orientation of it and the sounds filtering down through the intermittent storm drains, you believe the passageway parallels the road running beside the docks. The central sluice here is relatively quick flowing and there are many small culverts carved into the walls. As filth is dripping or running out of them, you imagine they service latrines, out-houses, privvies, fish gutting stations, and the like. You are all very thankful for Majara’s noseblock spray. Here again, you see a reasonably high volume of scuff marks that have worn away, or at least crushed down, some of the persistent filth. And, again, the most scuffed areas are below the storm drains.
You press on through the sewer, going the entire length of the east-west corridor. You find nothing specific, save the proliferation of scuff marks similar to the ones you noted before. The scuff marks do appear to increase near the periodic storm drains above you. The corridor ends at a narrower north-south passageway.
A quick perusal of the surroundings reveals nothing of particular note except that there are more scuff marks going down the western branch of the sewer. Hannelia scans the area with her eldritch vision. Given the hours long delay between the battle and now, there is virtually no chance of residual spell energy remaining. Rather, the bard has to hope there is some remnant of a magic object in the area that may hold clues to the magics involved. Hannelia Only:
So, she is surprised, bordering on alarmed, when a dim and ghostly vertical circle of magic appears in her vision at the point where the paw prints begin. There is no object… just a trace of remaining magic – a single magical field.
Majara pokes, prods, and inspects all things within reach. She finds no illusory walls, secret doors, or the like.
Our heroes walk down the wide southern corridor following the hound prints. After no more than 25 paces the tracks seem to end what becomes an elbow joint turn in the tunnel. The inflamed elbow could have been where the tunnel was going to be expanded and wasn’t… or perhaps it is simply caused by decades of neglect and erosion. Given the distance traveled and the persistent dripping coming between the brick and stone, you expect you are close to the docks. You see nothing of obvious note in the corridor around the turn.
Our heroes look around the intersection. In short order they find splashes of fresh filth and the wettest prints (canine in appearance). Roger confirms the tracks are heading toward the ersatz ‘stairway’ out. They clearly come from the southern passage. There are also some odd scuff marks on the rough stones of the floor. Scuffs that have knocked away some of the accumulated grime and mold. They can’t be called tracks, per se, as they are too numerous and overlaid to appear unblemished. The scuff marks appear in all three passages… while being a bit more dense in the passages heading south and east.
And so, just shy of noon, Majara completes her alchemical experiments and the rest of the group finish speaking with the constabulary. The team reunites at the collapsed, brick-lined hole in the ground near Willita’s. The autumn wind off the river is persistent and cold as it wraps between the building. Even so, it can’t overwhelm the fetid stink coming from the hole. Majara fires a sharp spray up the nostrils of each person there (including Alocer). In a moment, they smell absolutely nothing – not stink, trash, salt air, or even the delightful breads of Gunty. Ready as they will ever be, our heroes cautiously find their footing and descend into the sewers below Saringallow. Like many towns, the dockside area of Saringallow is one of the oldest. It seems the sewer here is also old. The ceiling is rough-hewn and varies in height between 7’ and 8’. The sloping walls and ceiling are a mélange of brick, cobblestones, and uneven chunks of discarded masonry. There is a rough central ‘trough’ in each passage through which filth flows – or doesn’t – depending on how well the floor is sloped and gravity is enabled to do its work. Behind you is a rough tumble of collapsed brick, leaning against an eroding internal wall. It forms a motley stairway of sorts. In front of you, there are three dark paths, none of them looks particularly promising…
Majara estimates it will take her a couple hours to concoct a nasal spray to counteract the stink in the sewers. In the meantime, our heroes pay a visit to the constabulary. As they walk the streets, the police are out in force – part of it is for security, part for information gathering, and a healthy chunk is to quiet the local nerves regarding the attack. The mayor has scheduled a town meeting for noon, presumably to update and reassure the populace. The team has no problem getting to meet with the watch commander. He confirms that no bodies, parts of bodies, or anything of that sort have been found or reported. In return, he asks the team for an update on their progress in the search for Verno Aculla. It seems Sophi has been talking up the prominence of his family – planting the seed of Elidir officials taking a hand in the local matter.
Majara and Nerissia are finished with their search well before Hannelia and the rest have conducted all of their time-consuming interviews. The two groups rejoin in time for questioning of the helpful barker.
Majara leads the way back to Willita’s where she and Roger had backtracked the hound prints from earlier. Here, again, the prints are obvious in the muddy alley but disappear on the cobblestone street. However, trusting Alocer’s nose and doing a wider sweep of the road, leads our heroes to an alley almost directly across from Willita’s. It is strewn with trash and bric-a-brac. It seems to be the neighborhood dump site. The adventurers carefully walk across the debris, deeper into the alley. Alocer stops and turns her head, repelled by the smell that eventually registers with her olfactorily-challenged companions. Human effluviant – like an open latrine – offends every nostril. Whether they want it to or not, for Alocer the scent trail ends here. Her nose cannot sort the mastiff’s scent from this assault of persistent, fetid, stink. Nerissia imagines this must be close to the smell of an open sewer… then she notices the signs of collapse on one side of the debris field, a jagged hole in the ground, and the sight of old bricks and cobblestones, unevenly lining the hole like a beggar’s teeth. It seems this is the smell of a formerly closed (now open) sewer… While spotting prints atop the debris is a serious challenge, Nerissia sees enough scuff marks that she is reasonably confident that the mastiff emerged from the sewer.
Meanwhile…
Our heroes systematically move down the docks, speaking with barkers and boat captains. The single-boat operations barely keep passenger records. Those with books, gladly open them for the heroes of the day. Verno is on no one’s manifest (or memory) on the day he checked out of the Witch’s End. However, on the seventh such interview, the trio sees their luck change. They speak with a barker for one of the larger ferry services. He recollects – and the records confirm – that Verno booked passage on the River Empress (bound for Elidir) the day before she was scheduled to leave. She set sail the next morning and Verno wasn’t aboard. The barker adds, ”He even paid when he booked and never asked for it back. Wish I had that kind of money to throw away!”
Recording this for posterity. Are we assuming that we (or more specifically, Alocer) have now sniffed around and found all the markings in line with your map? No and yes. Alocer could only follow the most-recent path - the rough diagonal between #6 and the northern-most dot at #2, then up to #10. You spotted the one at #7 because you revisited the wall at Gunty’s where Constantine had his first ‘incident’. Now that you know what to look for… you spot the rest of the witch marks as you (presumably) roam around the southern end of town continuing your investigation into the disappearance of Verno Aculla. The plan, IIRC, now that you know what morning Verno checked-out of the Witch’s End was to speak with the dock barkers to see if he left by boat or at the southern gates. Could we please get a list of the buildings/occupants that have been marked. Those we know, anyway… Yep. As surmised, many of the dots are ‘residential’... some owned by locals you know. None are local luminaries or villains. However, here are some of the more notable locations where witch-marks appear… Of the numbered locations:
Of the unnumbered locations:
I’m hand-waiving INT (which someone will certainly pass) to say that you notice all of the witch marks are scribed by the same hand – which is Constantine’s. While Alocer spotted the freshest witch marks, it’s clear that some of these are somewhat older, showing rainmarks or faint discoloration in the grooves. You’d estimate that some of these witchmarks could be a few weeks old. Constantine has been a busy boy.
It takes Majara a moment to puzzle out where she’s seen such marks before (for indeed she has). She’s noted them on the doors of cottages and barns in largely rural areas where ‘evil’ is believed to be afoot. They are commonly called ‘witch marks’ though they have little to do with witches. Scholars call them apotropaic marks. They are used by the common folk (in lieu of clerical services) to protect a building or its occupants and ‘ward off’ evil, demons, witches, occult malefactors, and the evil eye.
Our heroes examine the area near the wall of the church. There is little to note on the ground… no boards lacking nails, etc. What is present is on the wall itself. There is a freshly-etched (judging by the stone dust below it) floral-ish motif. And, yes, it does look like a nail may have been used to carve it. Following Alocer’s nose, our heroes sleuth out Constantine’s rough trail. It generally heads south-ish and meanders down alleys (and some legitimate roads). The trail is most easily detectable around the market square. It seems Constantine paused in spots around the market square. And here, our heroes note more of the floral-ish designs… in various states of ‘doneness’ carved into stone and wooden walls. Here, they also note the floral design is actually circles upon circles to form the ‘daisy’ pattern. Some are carved with a metal nail… and the earliest ones (in wooden walls) are carved with, you imagine, was a finger nail. Majara suggests returning to Gunty’s Bakery. Here, too, our heroes now find the curious ‘daisy’ carved on the wall. It doesn’t appear to have been as freshly carved as the other symbols are, and Alocer’s nose doesn’t lead the group over here. So clearly this carving happened on another day.
"Where was he found? We probably can't search everywhere between there and the temple but perhaps we could look in the vicinity." The priest leads the group (minus Constantine who is gently held by another parishioner) to the south-east corner of the building. ”Constantine was found around here… but he wasn’t here earlier. When he disappeared this morning, we scoured the immediate area for him.”
It takes an hour or so to tend the wounded, repair the damage (largely due to fleeing sheeple), conduct interviews, and compare notes. Bitiborium’s account is largely confirmed. Majara and Roger discover a missing piece of the puzzle. No one witnessed the arrival of the shae and mastiff, unfortunately, but they were first spotted by a pair of soiled doves in the street near Willita’s. The shadowy pair immediately proceeded into the alley beside the bawdy house and walked north to the market square. The shae’s prints are hard to spy in the alleys but three hundred pounds of mastiff leaves prints that Roger has no problem following. As the last bits of glass are being swept up in the market square, Constantine is found. The relieved priests find him wandering near the Temple of Erastil. The team is quickly summoned to see the psychic sensitive’s state. Unfortunately, Constantine is nearly catatonic. His eyes are open, he walks (when led), and his mouth moves but he doesn’t speak. He doesn’t respond to any attempts to draw his attention or communicate with him. Added to this perplexing mystery, Nerissia and Majara note that Constantine’s right hand is closed. With a little coaxing, they are able to open his fist. The tip of Constantine’s fore-finger looks raw and a bit bloody. His hand also has a thin coating of rock dust. In his palm is a small, common, nail. It is also dusted with rock and the tip is quite dulled. The benefit of her height is that Majara’s eyes are close to Constantine’s hands. She spots a few slivers of wood in the wounds on his finger as well. Dice-a-palooza:
Roger’s blade fails to wound the shae but he does ruin her spell. She immediately spins on her heels and flees westward. However, the ranger isn’t ready to give up his quarry. He chases the shae through the twisting alley, leaping over objects she tosses in his way, desperate to slow his pursuit. She makes a hard turn into a smaller alley. Hot on her trail, Roger swings… and his blade shears through her immaculate dress and her armored corset to strike her umbral flesh. If she were human, her spine would be sheared. Despite a lack of organs, the blow to the shae is as devastating. She crashes into a wall, spins for the force of the blow, and slams into the ground – quite dead. Her body quickly begins to dissipate. Like a black fog she is dispersed into the morning air and her now empty dress collapses. All that is left is her exceptional falchion , her cleverly armored corset , and her rather stylish (formerly) white dress.
Round 11 | Battle Map At the shae’s touch, the liquid in Roger’s eyes freeze into a layer of rime, occluding his vision and ruining his swing. Hannelia heals Nerissia just enough to clear her dazed head and beaten body. Majara runs toward a cluster of locals huddling in an alley. She begins treating a host of non-life-threatening wounds – glass cuts, twisted ankles, bruises from being trampled, etc. Thankfully, she doesn’t see Roger’s body in the square. Nerissia heals herself a bit more and determines that the cobblestones are a reasonably pleasant daybed. She takes a moment to watch fluffy white clouds float across the blue sky. Bolds are UP! ORDER:
Hannelia’s first arrow catches the mastiff in the haunch – and doesn’t slow it down. Her second shot slams into the back of its skull. The bloody arrow head emerges from the monstrous eye socket. The creature rears up… then falls over dead. It’s three hundred pounds crash down on top of Nerissia sending her closer to dea – NOT.
Round 9 | Battle Map Hannelia races to help the downed inquisitor. The fennec is nowhere to be seen. With all the living locals off the battlefield, Bit cautiously approaches as well.
Round 9 | Battle Map Majara races towards Emma and quickly realizes why bringing Glory to the patient is better than just the detached stamen. The stamen isn’t important. The single golden drop of nectar clinging precariously to the end of the stamen is the gift of life itself. The drop trembles, vibrates, and almost falls from the stamen as the gnome hustles forward. If it were to fall, its power would be wasted… Although if it hit the ground it might repair a broken cobblestone or if Majara were to catch it, it might scrub the alchemical stains from her hands. Thankfully, Majara has a steady hand and a quick mind. As the drop threatens to fall, she upends the stamen letting gravity keep it on the shaft. When she tosses the stamen, it helicopters slowly down. The drop falls and splashes on Emma’s face. Wondrous and horrible things happen. The divots in Emma’s head from the mastiff’s fangs, the shattered skull plates, and the twisted and ruptured vertebrae in her neck… all start to swell, push outward, and crunch as they repair themselves. In a moment her almost imperceptible breathing grows stronger. Her eyes flutter open. The paladin is still coated in far too much of her own blood, but she is definitely alive.
Bolds are UP ORDER:
In tears, Hannelia advances and fires a single arrow. Even as it leaves her bow, the bard knows the shot will miss. She prays to Iomedae and Desna for help… and the beneficent goddesses appear to listen. A curious puff of wind drives the arrow back on course, straight for the Shae’s throat. But there are dark gods watching as well, and they weigh in. The shae’s erratic and blur-swift movements make striking her difficult. Hannelia’s arrow flies towards the shae’s dark throat and then the woman shifts inhumanly fast and the arrow speeds past, only creasing her neck. The shae slaps a hand to her throat, realizing just how close death has come.
In the southern reaches of the square, the panting gnome merchant checks on the downed local woman. From the way he slumps onto the cobblestones, she must be dead.
Round 7 | Battle Map Majara is rewarded with a yelp from the big cur as her bomb explodes on the creature’s hind-quarters. She also learns that shadow fur doesn’t stink when it burns, unlike real hair. With the dog distracted by the bomb, Emma sinks her blade into the beast’s shoulder as well. Meanwhile, Roger charges past the Asmodean inquisitor and back onto the battlefield!
Round 7 | Battle Map What Nerissia Knows…:
The woman is called a Shae. She is native to the Plane of Shadow. It is believed her kind were once humanoids but (from their perspective) they have now evolved past the need for a defined physical form, making them far better than all you single-form, organ-stuffed, meatsacks.
1. Special Defense: Her movements are so quick and erratic, she is under a Blur effect (20% miss chance). 2. Special Attack: With a weapon or without, she deals bonus cold damage. Nerissia’s arrow sinks into the shadow woman’s leg followed by a shriek that echoes across the courtyard. If the woman had a face, Nerissia imagines it would be glaring in her direction.
Bolds are UP ORDER:
Hannelia sends more arrows into the fray. Her second nearly hits the hound. Meanwhile, Bitiborium and the local woman drag the unconscious man out of the square. A moment later the merchant reappears, winding himself up to sprint across the square… possibly to check on the victims on the southern end.
Roger and Majara find safe spots in which to hide until they can shake off the irrational fear that has gripped them both.
Round 5 | Battle Map The fletching tears off Hannelia’s first arrow causing it spin off harmlessly like a drunk songbird. Hannelia’s second arrow is better. She compensates for the distance, wind, and even the swirl of combat. But armored Emma is a barrier to hitting her target. Her shot grazes the mastiff’s shoulder.
With the shadow woman heading roughly his way, the local cheese merchant abandons his cart and bolts north as fast as his legs will move. Now, not only is Gunty’s closed but you have no cheese to go with your non-existent baguettes! Evil takes many forms as they say. In the eastern part of the square, Bitiborium arrives nearly breathless to help the man who either fainted or died. The woman next to him, seeing her chance begins to flee the square. A few words from the gnome causes her to falter in her tracks and then turn around to help him. It looks like they plan to drag the downed man from the square.
Round 4 | Battle Map All of the Hannelias hold their ground as Roger and Majara experience an overwhelming need to run. Then, hell truly breaks loose. All of the constables flee for their lives along with the majority of the locals in the square. One crouching local man passes out or simply drops dead from fright. In some ways, it’s advantageous for our heroes – fewer civilians to get hurt. But the howl carries… and at least a score of locals in the surrounding buildings and streets hear it. Like sheep before a wolf, they panic and flee. A few, driven senseless by fear, throw themselves through windows to escape or trample others that can’t run as fast. A few even throw themselves off the docks. The southern reaches of Saringallow are in chaos. The gnomerchant Bitiborium is not panicking, but perhaps he is crazy. He sprints (well, the gnome version of a sprint) across the square towards the local man who collapsed and one of the locals who is still cowering in the shadow of a cart.
What Does Majara Know?: Very important first fact… both creatures will BURN! No fireproof baddies here! The woman is called a Shae. She is native to the Plane of Shadow. It is believed her kind were once humanoids but (from their perspective) they have now evolved past the need for a defined physical form, making them far better than all you single-form, organ-stuffed, meatsacks.
The dog (which is not actually a dog in anything but appearance) is a Shadow Mastiff. It hunts the dark corners of the Outer Planes, Shadow Plane, and the Prime Material. They vastly prefer lurking in darkness, so the fact it is out in daylight at all is… remarkable.
Emma slugs down the potion and clanks her way between the buildings at an impressive pace, nearly catching up to Majara. Well ahead of them, Hannelia learns that the ‘old dog’ has even more tricks – as the armored pirate races past her to take the lead in this rush to the fracas. More constable whistles shrill from around the southern end of town. The sound of foot beats running away from the square blend with the ring of armored boots heading toward the square. The wails of the scared, the injured, and the fleeing continue unabated. Above that is someone shouting ”Fire!” It takes a moment before you realise it isn’t a warning but a command. A moment later a feminine voice snarls in a hissing language none of you have ever heard.
Round 3 – everybody UP! ORDER: Majara, Emma, Roger, Constables, Hannelia, Locals
Hannelia sprints full-out, racing between the shops and houses. She dodges down alleys attempting to get to the Square as quickly as possible while hurdling the bric-a-brac stored between the buildings. Emma draws her blade as she lumbers after Hannelia, her heavier armor slowing her down. Majara and Roger each find a way to cleverly enhance their speed before also following the swift bard. Over the noises of their own breathing, gear banging around, and the sundry collisions with the aforementioned bric-a-brac between the houses, our heroes hear more tumult from the Square. There are now screams of pain (not just fear) as well of cries of “murderer!” and “run for your life!” The constable’s whistle is cut short mid-blow. In between the building they see flashes of a few people fleeing for their lives.
Round 2 – everybody UP! ORDER: Majara, Emma, Roger, Constables, Hannelia, Locals
Like a heretical prophet, Emma’s words hang in the air. They dangle and spasm until the life is gone from them… supplanted by a distinctly non-metaphoric and escalating set of noises. Our heroes hear a couple yells, an intermittent scream, the shrill cry of a constable’s whistle, the sounds of some running feet, a loud snarl, and a hubbub of confused voices. Listening and looking about for signs of flight… Hannelia, Roger, and Majara all place the fracas as occurring in the vicinity of the Merchant’s Square. As all locals know, this is also the location of the Old Gallows… bringing our hanging prophet simile to a swift end.
ORDER: Majara, Emma, Roger, Constables, Hannelia, Locals
PER rolls:
The lay-priest fans the sweat from his face, still 'in a state'. "One of the sisters checked in on him at 6 bells and said he was asleep. I went to see if he wanted breakfast, not a quarter hour ago, and he was just gone!"
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!”
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.
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.
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.”
”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."
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."
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.” SM DC:20: You believe Sleevin was being truthful before when he said he didn’t recall Verno… and you are certain he’d remember someone paying him to remove their name from the manifest. Ergo… Verno never paid Sleevin to stay off the list.
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.”
”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.
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?”
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.”
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.
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.”
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