Concordance of The Abyss (Pathfinder Chronicle) (Inactive)

Game Master Molech

Seeing that The Cadaver Lord and its Wights have likely been lounging here for a few days, making any trail of theirs extremely difficult to find -- and considering the time of night, you make your way back out of Bridgefront and up Garrison Hill to The Alchemists' Quarter, to Mister Refrum's. Having been given a key and instructions how to bypass his security traps, you're able to get in quietly without awakening the Healer-Alchemist.

Her See Invisibility spell still active, Lady Sabella continues to see an occasional Imp and PseudoDragon in the skies above Korvosa going about what looks like a conflict of their own. Nothing else, and those oblivious and aloof to the goings on of mortals.

With bodily evidence of The Cadaver Lord to show to whomever you choose to show it, you now also have a private and secure place from which to cast your spells, rest, or decide your next step. A Rope Trick here, or even across The Alika Narrows and into Korvosa at Whitecaps, would do.

Once in the room Val will begin to remove her boots and outer gear. She looks at the others and just shrugs as she speaks."I for one am getting ready for bed. It was a stressful night and we have a lot of leads to follow. Any of you who wish to use magics or what not to aid in the discussions of tomorrow's leads, feel free to cast. I would suggest one of the other rooms."

Val then continues in the room with a bed to strip further, having little care about the others seeing her. If anyone watches she shows her tan and scars, as well as a hint of a tattoo obscured by her under linens.

Post battle

Pär collects the evidence of the battle, actually noting down the time at which it was taken, and puts the heads into a seperate bag, assuming that his consitutions renders him the most suitable to perform such tasks with limited risk of infection.

What to do with the rest of the bodies hmm. Burning them is destroying evidence, not burning them is a health concern. My constitions gives little care about the threat from them, but the malnourished people in the area? He thinks.

He adresses the party:
Does any of you possess abilities that would reduce the health risk these dead bodies pose? It felt as if that cadavar was trying to infect me with something, it failed, but I doubt that the local population has the benefit of my constitution.

At Refruns:

The powers granted to me are not particularly tailored to activities outside of battle. I volunteer for first watch, or any other watch.
I assess the odds of a night attack to be considerable, as guests to our contact we should make appropriate precautions in case of such an eventuality, lest our host comes to any harm on account of our presence.

Pärs pauses.

As a military man myself, I typically find myself to be quite capable of building a raport with other military personal, but I assess several our or members to be considerably more diplomatic then myself.

He finishes, his speech patterns post battle being suprisingly refined.

When at Refruns:
Good Sir Refrun, we have some evidence to probably be shared with the guard soon, may I Impose myself upon your good services to store them safely? I assess that there is a risk of infection originating from them.

K’Tak’Ktah’hal breaks his customary silence "It ith clear there are enemieth about. War camp, we thleep together. We mutht keep watcheth." He looks around the group and sighs "Thpellth. I will take middle watch, with the little one.", he points at Trogs.

So many spellcasters who need 8 consecutive Hrs, and we should have 2 awake on any given watch. I can take a middle watch with Trogs ...

Standing in just her underclothes, though her Falchion on is still in her hand. The short military cut hairstyle was apparent as was the lack of clothes. "Yes a watch would be good. I can take the last one. I will have to pray in the morning though. I do not wish to disturb anyone until dawn."

The old dwarf is glad to have a place to stay at Mister Refrum's. He hopes he's not intruding too much on his hospitality. "Alright, I'll be with the lady in the mornin'!" says Muziel. "You're welcome ta stay up here if ya want ta." He then casts a spell and a rope appears in mid air! He then climbs up the rope and settles in.

Rope trick.

" If you have room? I should be able to get up there?" Val says as she let's her arms grip and with a flex of strength pulls herself up. Her sword belt still on her hip despite her near nakedness.

Artemisia casts a spell! A grisly map slowly grows from the ear of the cadaver lord, spreading and transmuting into a beautifully detailed vellum and ink creation.

”There. Someone else can interpret that, but it should show the monster’s haunts. Now if you’ll excuse me, slumber calls.”

Excellent Mrs. Burningleaves, I have an Augury of doors getting kicked in, without actually knowing the spell! I wonder why that could be?

Pärs says, clearly relishing the prospect of targetted violence.

Pär gives the treasure map a once over, noting copying it into his own journal.

Night at Mister Refrum's passes uneventfully. The Rope Trick keeps those not on watch comfortably; the alchemical Healer's storefront floor is comfortable for those during watch. Mr. Refrum himself awakens late during the final guard watch and quietly works on an Alchemical salve for a local customer after nodding acknowledgement to thee on last watch.

As everyone else awakens and prepares spells, eats morning rations, vacates bowels in a loaned chamber pot, and otherwise gets ready for what promises to be an eventful day, Mr. Refrum answers questions.

1) Without too much apathy or cynicism, he more resignedly says that the bodies of Wights and the other Undead likely won't add much more plague in The Styes. Nonetheless, if you want to take them to The Mortuary (also on Garrison Hill), they will cremate the bodies. Of course, if you all go, and go looking like 'that' (rich), you will be fleeced for huge amounts of Silver. Better to look poor and pay a few Copper. .... As for the heads, he can prepare an Alchemical Gentle Repose for you at cost. .... And while he can't absolutely guarantee it (your own talent at diplomacy being a variable), it's very likely Cmdr Jute will accept your story and the heads as well sufficient evidence.

2) The Lamplighter also lives on Garrison Hill near Bridgefront (directions given) and is given a generous endowment to light the streets each evening -- by one of the most powerful Nobles in all of Korvosa! It is The Lamplighter's choice to pay young-and-upcoming kids to light the street lanterns. (While most respectable people of The Styes raised suspicious eyebrows at first, the fact is that those are the safest kids in The Styes, many take the responsibility seriously and have a better chance at getting Out of The Styes when they're older, and pretty much never join the gangs in Old Dock or get into drugs.) Rumors say he can see through the flames of his streetlights with his scrying sorcery!

3) Mr. Refrum doesn't know of any power blocks in Korvosa that animate intelligent Undead. He's certain that the 'law of averages' means someone in Korvosa Does animate powerful Undead, but he is not privy as to whom.

4) Mr. Refrum knows that an agent of The Aspis Consortium is new in Korvosa -- within the last 18 months. As far as he knows The Aspis Consortium is Not on friendly terms with The Crown, or The Academae, and certainly not Field Marshal Cresida Kroft of the Korvosan Guard! Though the Aspis Consortium likely has an ally among one of the 19 Nobles and a Magistrate or four. How else could the agent have so seamlessly and effectively infiltrated so quickly into Korvosa? Moreover, and this is something almost no one knows -- very rare knowledge: The agent is a Half-Drow named Eugardi Zanda, an Assassin, who is absolutely a master of Stealth, and that skill is his most used tactic.

5) Silas Ledbetter's suspicious son at Ledbetter Apothecary: Poor little Albin doesn't have any friends and was cursed with short stature and mental handicap. But I see him from time to time making his way across Garrison Hill to somewhere with a big grin on his face, and I am sure (having known Silas Ledbetter for years) that Albin lies to his dad about what he does.

6) The Treasure map from the ear: Mr. Refrum takes only a moment to realize what the map reveals. This is a map of the small estate in North Shore (not too far from Longacre Prison, City Hall, and Whitecaps Inn) of a powerful Magistrate named Thornwell. The Magistrate of Fresh Water, he has a gift for Oratory (Bard) and is a devout Disciple of Asmodeus. As the civil servant in charge of all sources of fresh water for the city, Thornwell is among the most powerful non-Nobles in Korvosa.

"I say first and foremost we go to the Korvosan Gaurd and give them the undead. From there we can ask about the killings. MOre as concerned Adventurers and what we can do to help. After that, I would suggest the Lamplighter." Val says as she dons her outfit, and this time her Plate mail. Its blue silver sheen and motif definitely show she was not poor.

"We can also check up on other leads. Seems too many wolves stalking a fox, Let us be the badger and snatch the fox in its hole!" Val proclaims with fever as she secures her pouch under the lower part of her backpack followed by her Imp pommeled Flachion of wicked make.

Lastly, she cupped her helmet under one arm as she let the dyed rainbow horse hair flow looking at the others.

"I can do the talking with your aid. Remember we are here to find the artifact." Val says with a smile and flourishes her cloak to make its rainbow symbol shimmer.

Artemisia wakes, and after making herself a cup of tea settles down to study a spell book. ”Between an axe murderer, the unliving, disease, and devilry, today promises to be quite the adventurous day. Two castings of slow, and also…”. She continues mumbling to herself, in increasingly arcane and fractured bits as she commits the magic to her memory. At the end, she looks up from her tome, an hour having passed. ”As we discussed, let us be about it.”

K'tak prepares himself for the day and waits patiently as his teammates ready themselves. He asks Refrum a question "Another way of hunting, that the Dineh uthe for hunting beatht is a tethered goat. Ith there anything that the murdered have in common, that we could uthe to thet up a fake target for the Lantern Man?"

Muziel doesn't have to worry about armor and weapons, so instead he spends his morning reviewing his spellbook as he readies himself for the day.

He nods in agreement as Valeria sketches out a plan. "Right then, guard and lamplighter first, sounds like a plan ta me."

Mister Refrum finishes the salve he was making for an unrelated customer only minutes after everyone is awake, fed, and ready to resume the investigation.

”14 days ago, the first murdered body was found near The Library of Thought, a drug den posing as a meditation lounge.” It is clear from Mr. Refrum’s tone that he disapproves of the place, emphasizing the drug den aspect and condescending the meditation aspect, if not disbelieving it altogether. ”It is on Garrison Hill, as are most businesses in The Styes and, also like everyone here, the owners hope to be able to relocate to Korvosa proper as the people of Bridgefront are getting poorer and poorer and the gangs of Old Dock are getting violenter and violenter. At The Library of Thought, one pays an entry fee to come in and lounge in rotting sofas and threadbare divans where incense burns from every shelf or in-table. But it is not really incense, it is an indica tranquilizer. …. Atoka the Paladin talked to a few of the dancers that work there but they didn’t like him because he doesn’t suffer from Red Face (is an outsider) and his bribe was too low.

”9 days ago a body was in Market Square under the Reaper Clock.” Refrum lets out a sigh of disappointment for The Styes. ”Anywhere else the market square would be a bustling, lively location of stalls and merchants – like ‘the gold market’ in Korvosa proper. But no children play games there; no lovers dance in the moonlight to their own music. Here in The Styes, market square is an empty no-mans land. No one, no one, crosses market square. All the eyes of Bridgefront can see you if you do. All the gangsters of Old Dock will know where you are. ….There are no hiding places in the market square. It is an 85’ by 65’ concrete void – it separates Bridgefront from Old Dock. Even the weeds that pop up from the cracks and fissures dare not grow too tall. …. Atoka knew that Old Dock had to witness The Lantern Man murder, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to get anything from them. He asked people that lived in Bridgefront close by and got a general description of Jarme Loveage using a boat hook to murder the poor woman. But he didn’t stop; he took a broken shard of concrete to mutilate the corpse’s face, then stalked off into Old Dock. In The Reaper Clock, Atoka tried to talk to Aida Grethwell but he gave her a compliment; she didn’t take it courteously and didn’t give any more information.

”8 days ago a man was brutally murdered right outside The Sticky Mermaid on the edge of Old Dock and Garrison Hill. The Korvosan Guard barely looked at it at first because fights usually break out there, being where low-grade gang members of the various crimelords get drunk on fishjack beer. Every few months the fighting gets too wild and Cmdr Jute closes the place down, only for some new manager or proprietor to pay Korvosa a bunch of fines and get permission from a Magistrate to open it back up. (Of course, at each new ‘grand reopening’ a big fight breaks out – at least, after the drunken mooks get a taste of the new fishjack beer.) …. By the time Atoka tried to question the drunks, two days ago, no one could distinguish that gruesomely bloody murder from the standard fist fights that usually erupt. Pathetic.

”6 days ago a body was found hacked apart in the Alika Narrows right by the stone bridge leading to North Point. This was when The Korvosan Guard began their investigation as the gruesomeness and randomness indicated a serial killer. …. Atoka talked to some of the people who live in Bridgefront around there, as well as some of the folk who climb into to St Alika Narrows to scrounge for oysters. But no one saw anything.

”And that brings us to 4 days ago at Pythoness House (or rather 5 days, now). The Korvosan Guard had two days of investigating and that’s probably why someone bothered to ‘see’ the murder happen and get a description of Jarme Loveage. His sister came to me and I to Atoka – once he realized he was in over his head. I am very thankful to Sheila Heidmarch that you are here to help.”

Commander Jute, Korvosan Guard

.

Atop Garrison Hill is the manmade plateau of Fort Korvosa, mostly empty now, but a few structures remain. Among them is the functional, three-story stone hall, City Garrison. It houses a large contingent of Korvosan Guard, those assigned to The Styes, and Commander Jute.

In a gleaming Mithral breastplate and wielding an enchanted greatsword, the Korvosan Guard officer stands just over six feet tall and is adorned with a variety of other magical items.

He has already spoken at length with Sheila Heidmarch (last night upon y'alls' arrival) and his commanding officer, Korvosan Guard Field Marshal, Cressida Kroft. His executive officer, Captain Cora Crandon, is leading the investigation, but the more he hears the more concerned he is and is very close to personally searching for Jarme Loveage.

His immediate concern is for the protection of the poor people of The Styes, citizens who, despite their inability to make enough income to get out of Bridgefront and into the city, are still mostly hard-working, reasonably honest and mostly innocent citizens. Thus, as much as he is willing to consider that Jarme Loveage is possessed by some magical Relic, if it means killing the poor man rather than him escaping, he will do so. Of course he'd rather capture the murderer alive -- even without the chance that he's possessed (and thus innocent) -- but the safety of Korvosa must be his first priority.

He freely is open about his apathy to The Pathfinder Society -- he's more comfortable with The Darklight Sisterhood (who have also contacted him).

And he has no preference as to who finds Jarme Loveage first, or even who claims ownership of the Relic once its found. Maybe when he was a younger marine in Korvosa's Sable Company he didn't want outsiders helping or influencing investigations such as this -- but now that he's older, more experienced -- and charged with the impossible task of trying to make The Styes a better place -- he has no animosity toward any of the factions hunting Jarme Loveage. The Pathfinder Society, The Darklight Sisterhood, The Aspis Consortium, or even Xenoxanthus at The Truth and Light. If one of them find Jarme Loveage before his Korvosan Guard does, so be it.

As a gesture of openness, Cmdr Jute informs you that two more murders from The Lantern Man should be added to your list: 12 days ago a child in Bridgefront was hacked to death by The Lantern Man. It was not considered a Lantern Man slaying until yesterday when Cmdr Jute paid for some divination magic to discern some truths. Finally, yesterday morning, probably about the time you were being contacted by Sheila Heidmarch, a man named Raif was found on Breakwater Pier.

Cmdr Jute offers to reimburse you for whatever cost is involved in taking the Wights and Cadaver Lord to The Mortuary for cremation, and thanks you for destroying the Undead. He also offers to reimburse you for the cost of staying in Whitecaps (or wherever) as further appreciation for services in protection of The Styes.

For his sharing of information, are you willing to reciprocate by sharing information that you have discovered?

Eiseth, Whore Queen of Hell

.

The Erinyes Curse of Eiseth in Par's soul both stifles and stimulates the Battle Oracle, and jars his mind with her susurration. 'Eiseth cares not for this Chaos-Trinket, a vile blight worthy of dropping in a deep hole and forever forgetting. Rather, abandon these other fools and go back to The Worldwound; continue the war against Fiendish Chaos!'

K’Tak’Ktah’hal speaks up: "Commander, you withh thith killer caught. I was able to catch his trail from the killing at the Pythonethth Houthe, that four dayth old! If your men can take me to thith Breakwater Pier, where thith Raif was killed, I will hunt the madman."

"We are happy to help Commander. Granted it won't the quarry we were looking for the Lantern Man. I hear you and your guard are looking for him too." Valeria says as she then pauses and smiles.

"I apologize I forgot to introduce myself, I am Lady Valeria, A member of the Society. We are here to help catch and stop the Hatchet Man. If you are willing we can aid in your investigation. Especially if you have any leads you think a highly trained adventuring crew like us can handle." Valeria reaches out to touch the Commanders arm and squeezes softly.

"I know we don't look it but all of us are capable Pathfinders. We have skill sets that can prove valuable, we also do not have to abide by the codes and orders that your officers do, should we need to. If you want I can draw up a contract. Though it is up to you. Either way, we are going to look for the Hatchet Man. It's up to you whether we share information or not." Valeria finally laid it all out there as she looked into the commanders' eyes, her face smiling the smoky grin of assurance.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (14) + 12 = 26

"Sounds like someone dies every couple' o' days," Muziel says as they learn about the long list of murders. "I'm with K'Tak here, head ta tha latest killin' ta find the murderer."

As they make their way to speak with Commander Jute, Sabella casts a pair of spells to enhance her already formidable social skills. [i]Eagle's Splendor and Heroism, both on herself. This gives her a +6 to her Cha based skills, and a +2 to all other skills.

The tiefling laughs melodiously at Valeria. "Sweetie, not everything needs to drawn up in some sort of official contract, and the good commander has already given us new information."

She turns her emerald gave to the Jute, "My dearest Jute, set your mind at ease. My companions and I will find this Lantern Man, rest assured. As he has already stated, the quite capable K'Tak already has the scent, and I am sure he will pick up the trail once more should we investigate the most current murder scene. Gladly will we share our information, in thanks for what you've already told us. Should you be willing, and able, to tell us more, we would of course be most appreciative."

Pär lets out a small chuckle for real as he zooms back into the situation.

Lady Sabella speaks true I believe,Information is ammunition, but it can be exchanged without, in many cases lessening its value. The one who is hurt is our mutual adversary. I detest child slayers in particular.

Although, in all honesty. Pär thinks to himself, the information we have concerning the "treasure map" is politically dangerous. But his more diplomatically capable comrades have probably considered this.

diplomacy to assist Sabella: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14

Artemisia nods along, though her eyes sharpen at the name of the pier.

"A visit to the pier is in order, certainly. I wonder, do you know who this Raif's next of kin might be? Your offer to recoup our expenses is kind, and whitecaps is lovely. We can settle up later once this danger has passed."

Commander Jute, Korvosan Guard

.

Perhaps it was the thick accent, perhaps it was K'Tak's lack of maintaining social space (One does not usually loom over someone and go nose-to-nose with him in a gesture of friendship), but whatever the case, the Korvosan Guard Commander is not understanding of the Dineh's social skills.

For his own part, Cmdr Jute maintains his own professionalism and chooses to accept the words K'Tak speaks rather than the manner in which K'Tak presents himself. And the officer listens to the rest of you as you explain what has already been told him by Sheila Heidmarch.

"As I told your Venture Captain, the Korvosan Guard has a policy of accepting help in certain special situations such as these; it's something that my Field Marshal, Cressida Kroft, has always supported. I also know that you -- and the other interested parties -- are less interested in safeguarding the lives of my citizens than you are in finding your powerful magical item. Don't get me wrong, I know the exact feeling you do about getting a new magical item that makes you a greater force for Good than you are -- I'm sure you've noticed some of my own adornments. And in this case, well we're all trying to find Jarme Loveage before he kills again.

"My second-in-command, Captain Cora Crandon, is on duty now following the clues she got from Breakwater Pier. And you, Mister Par, you made a very astute point: In Korvosa 'information' is the real power -- ammunition, you named it. It is what makes this city tick. Be careful.

"Breakwater Pier is at the western edge of Endrin Isle at the far point of The Saint Alika Narrows. It's been in ruins since the tidal wave; most of the structure is sundered and in the water, helping close the entrance into the Narrows. Once you start crossing "Flotsam" -- the virulent mudflat that covered the western fourth of Bridgefront under The Alchemists' Quarter, stay on the boardwalks. If you start wading into that foul mud, chances are it will not end well for you."

Making your way down from Fort Korvosa onto Garrison Hill -- The Alchemists' Quarter specifically -- you can see through the yellowish smog of The Styes into the western portion of Bridgefront now called "Flotsam."

Mud and silt from Conqueror's Bay came with the tidal wave and, when it receded, formed a swath of death that also included the devastation of flotsam and jetsam from other parts of Bridgefront. Broken planks and beams jut from the dried mud, as do shafts of roofs and other buildings' accouterments. Equally certain are you that, were you to dig a few inches deep into the mud of Flotsam, you'd find the corpses of fish and men, the corpses of rats, chokers & otyughs, and most tragically, the bodies of children. But that's under the surface. What is also unavoidable knowledge, especially walking down Garrison Hill through The Alchemists' Quarter, is that the effluvia from the alchemists all drains into Flotsam, as does the open channel sewage from Bridgefront.

But where crowded urban areas need real estate, even a virulent cesspit such as Flotsam can not stay unexploited too long. And a series of boardwalks haphazardly crisscrosses Flotsam from stem to stern, and a large number of small shacks have been built at wider spots on the boardwalks. Indeed, even in the mud itself, an excavated circle has been 'buttressed' (almost) and citizens are prospecting the hole for potential building growth.

At the far western edge are the remains of Breakwater Pier. A tangled, sundered structure, mostly destroyed and standing in the water that separates Conqueror's Bay from the Saint Alika Narrows. (Plenty of other wrecks also choke the waterway, including the hull of a large ship.)

Making your way to Breakwater Pier, what's left of it, it is not hard to guess that the victim, Raif, was likely one of the wretched souls who wades into The Alika Narrows for oysters, or other such task that would find him here. You can readily see the blood splatter from where The Lantern Man killed him -- and you can readily see a trail into Flotsam where The Lantern Man fled after killing Raif.

Without entering the virulent mud, you can see that the trail goes to a specific shack built up on the boardwalks.

A billboard sign above the shack reads: 'The Soiled Sow.'

Hmm, should be careful with enlarge person here, these boardwalks are unlikely to support 8 times my weight.
Pär thinks to himself.

Kthak, how old do you reckon is that bloodtrail?

Pär cantrips "enchance diplomacy" on himself, and proceed to cast protection from evil on himself and Kthak, assuming he agrees.

Senses sharpened by desert bred wariness, K’Tak’Ktah’hal wordlessly busies himself examining the scene and the trail, looking for clues and tracks like those he was following last night.

Looking at the blood splatter stains on Breakwater Pier you certainly deduce that, whoever murdered the victim here used the same amount of savage brutality as the murder near Pythoness House.

Looking around, you see a dried pool of blood a few feet away, separate from the murder scene. Looking closely at the spatter and the distance from the main gore, it is most likely that some object was separated from the body, a bloody object, and it must have landed here, a few feet away. Either Cpt Cora Crandon of the Korvosan Guard found it and took it as evidence, or a local found it and has it, whatever it was.

The trail leading into the mud of Flotsam is erratic and made by a big person, exactly like the trail leading from Pythoness House to Fever Dream Alley. And, like the first trail, this one is staggering and haphazard, almost like that of a drunk, but also goes straight to The Soiled Sow up on the boardwalk.

It is possible that, were you to walk through Flotsam, searching for more clues, you may find one. But you can smell the poison in the foul mud and you would certainly become contaminated within it.

Or, you can get back on the Boardwalk and walk the short distance to The Soiled Sow to continue your investigation.

"And here I thought we'd need a tracker ta find the trail." He's excited that the Soiled Sow might get them some fresh clues.

Also, he casts Mage Armor.

Artemisia laughs lightly at Muziel's remark and follows the mage towards the Soiled Sow along the boardwalk.

"This part of the city seems full of mud and gore and other fevers, but it does make tracking someone careless much easier. Yet they don't seem to have been caught already. Curious, no? I have great faith in K’Tak’Ktah’hal to find our prey."

" It seems they didn't want to traverse the befouled mud. I do not blame them. As for us, does anyone have anyway to allow us to traverse the mud flats in some way.
?" Valeria says looking at the others.

Honestly I could traverse the Mud, but I have never been graceful. As well as I doubt even the best washer woman could get that filth clear of my clothes! So no, I will not pursue via foot! I refuse!

"I believe I have a way to investigate the mud, without having to risk any of us. However, I need to focus on it, so I'll be a bit vulnerable." With that, she calls forth a glowing green eye, that immediately winks out of sight. She then sends it out into Flotsam, hoping to find an undiscovered clue. Casting Arcane Eye. My perception is trash, but if I can take 10 or even 20(I believe scouring a location with perception is a standard use of take 20), that would be *awesome*. Take 10, she has an 11, take 20, a 21.

"Where manling prey goeth, I will follow..." K’Tak’Ktah’hal pauses and takes a sniff at the mud, and then pulls out his healer's kit for some barbarian herbal concotion (Anybody who wants to chuck in a buff spell can do so while I prep...). After readying himself, the savage wades out into the mud, unbothered by the stench, following the trail and searching for clues...

K'Tak is certain that the dried blood that has cooled on Breakwater Pier and the trail through Flotsam are as old as the last Lantern Man murder, and can answer Par's question with or without a tone of incredulity.

As you make your way safely back onto the boardwalks over Flotsam to The Soiled Sow only about 90 feet from Breakwater Pier (70' through the rough terrain, virulent mud of Flotsam).

Muziel's eldritch armor ripples with energy as he anticipates conflict soon.

K'Tak'Ktah'Hal begins his own search as Lady Sabella takes a few minutes to cast her divination spell. K'Tak finds bits of broken and rotting everything, from charred wood to mangled Chokers, long dead. The recently dried blood he finds is almost certainly not from The Lantern Man, but rather from the victim, Raif.

And Lady Sabella Arvanxi's Arcane Eye begins a closer look at the swath of broken mud that The Lantern Man made through Flotsam. Not noticing anything at first, she has everyone pause briefly on the boardwalk so she can take her time to search more thoroughly. Eight minutes pass as she gazes into the trail through her divination, but even by about the sixth minute she concludes there are no other clues left behind from The Lantern man. When he climbed up the pilings of the boardwalk to get to The Soiled Sow, he would have had to use both hands, implying he didn't have a weapon in one hand. And both Sabella and K'Tak notice where The Lantern Man fell in his first attempt to climb up to The Soiled Sow -- yet is is clearly not a difficult climb attempt.

The search complete, K'Tak easily climbs up and meets everyone else outside The Soiled Sow. Not looking any worse for wear, K'Tak nonetheless smells precisely like a dead Otyugh.

A nine-foot roof over a fifteen-by-fifteen shack is the totality of The Soiled Sow. It lacks a door in the door-frame and the windows lack shudders, perhaps allowing the foul breeze outside to flow through the place, perhaps allowing the smell out. The place reeks.

Twelve sleeping, or rather, passed-out, patrons are unconscious on the floor. It is still quite early in the morning. In the center of The Soiled Sow is a small, roughly circular drinking-bar from which a proprietor could serve his or her customers the House Beverage. The bar is only about five feet high and is wide enough to barely enclose its owner.

.

Outside The Soiled Sow, the people of The Styes are beginning their dreary day. In the distance, closer to Bridgefront, you see a couple of children using what looks like a makeshift sled to enter the virulent mud of Flotsam, not to play, but rather to look for tools or treasure or even food.

Above Flotsam, at the base of Garrison Hill at the far end of The Alchemists' Quarter, two Korvosan Guard patrolmen stand near a crumbling, half-burnt-out lighthouse.

And in The Alchemists' Quarter you see Silas Ledbetter opening Ledbetter Apothecary, as well as a few other alchemists opening their own shops.

"Yeesh, K'Tak! Ye stink more than Trogs here, a real feat!" Muziel chortles and begins to magically help the lizardman clean off. Prestidigitation.

He then heads into the Soiled Sow. "Well, never too early fer some ale!" says the dwarf as he looks for anyone that might serve him a drink.

"They seem to have had a wonderful evening. Are they even breathing? The air is foul, how can they sleep?"

Artemisia is impressed with the patron's ability to sleep in the stench, and sets her magic to work cleaning up the signs of the last evening's festivity and subsequent acts of self preservation.

"That halfling had more vomit than weight, how isn't she dehydrated after all of this" she gestures to the smallest patron with the largest contribution to the filth, who sleeps angelically as if on a mattress of clouds, against the hard bar.

"I doubt they saw anything, but if they did surely they can't remember? Is it kinder to wake them or to let them sleep it off?" At this she turns to Par, as if certain he knows precisely the answer.

Interesting degree of resistance to toxins on display Thinks Pärs as he surveys the scene
the white haried elf is unable to sufficiently distinguish the various vomit pool, leading her to make erraneous conclusions about the various degrees of dehydration on display.
Do I want to know where your "knowledge vomit pool" comes from? Probably not. I certainly bow to your superior exerptize in that manner my Lady
I am insufficiently intoxicated to continue this conversation dear Pär
Genuine question though, how do devils gets drunk?
With considerable difficulty frequently unappreciated by mortal murdervikings His copilot informs him, matter of factly.

Good Quesion Mrs. Burningleaves, generally speaking, our time is more expensive then their possible hangover so... he announces
perceptionProfession Murderviking to find out which patron is most wakeable: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24

He then proceeds to cantrip-create create water on top of the patrons he identifies as most wakeable.

" Smells like graduation day at Dracolov Academe' Puke, booze, sweat and a hint of drugs. No sulfur or sex smell though. Which is disappointing I was told places like this knew how to party" Val says pulling a perfumed kerchief to her nose. As she does she uses her other to poke at a few of the forms wandering if they still lived.

Looking at a splintered, stained, wooden mug, Muziel Moreau smells an odd liquor, as though a bit of blood, perhaps human, was used in the fermentation of this beer. Even for the Dwarf Wizard of Janderhoff, it may be distasteful to drink the house ale from the Soiled Sow. But apparently the patrons had their pleasure with it and are now snoring it off.

Artemisia Burningleaves looks to Par Joakimson as though he were an expert on drinking too much 'blood'(?) beer and the Battle Oracle of G'rom shows his appreciation by shaking the shoulders of those passed out on the floor, just in case Artemisia is wrong and a witness to Raif's murder remains.

Lady Valeria jokes about her university days back in Cheliax, but it's perhaps just an attempt at levity, as these poor sods, unlike wealthy and gifted coeds, drink to forget their lifelong misery, even for a night.

Finally, Par Joakimson uses magic to conjure fresh, pure, crystal-clear drinking water -- like a glorious gift of largess from the gods themselves, over a couple of the drunks, awakening them in a shower of refreshing cleanliness.

Squinting themselves awake they look at you bleary eyed, and, as is their addiction, check any standing mugs for remaining drink.

Both are men, tanned and weathered and malnourished, perhaps in their late 30s and suffering from Red Face.

"Yeesh, K'Tak! Ye stink more than Trogs here, a real feat!" Muziel chortles and begins to magically help the lizardman clean off. Prestidigitation.

"Thank you, too much thmell might warn the prey"

K’Tak’Ktah’hal, having followed his prey to the front door of the Soiled Sow, looks inside at the unconcious patrons and the bartender. His sharp eyes sweep the room.

Seeing no one who matches the description we have of Jarme Loveage ("big and muscular, as befitting a fisherman -- though I doubt he's as big as any of you three," nodding to the remarkable size of K'tah, Par and Mishanter, all near to seven feet. "Notably, he has a bit of reddish tint to an otherwise dark-blonde hair, obviously descended at least in part from Kellid or Ulfen Blood."), he thinks aloud "He entered; if he ith not here, he mutht have left here..." and steps back outside, to search the perimeter of the shack for any sign left by the murderer leaving...

Yeah, the puke from Cultists celebrating Nocticulas birthday did smell different, they were admiddetly a fair bit more attractive and less malnourished then this lot, though probably with a differently disease load.
Succubus who led them in celebration took a look at me and my adventuring group, said "F$@* is it Monday already?" and instantly teleported out, so we just collected the drunk cultists and prisoner exchanged them later.

Adressing the hungover men he says:

Greetings, the first person to give me good information on the whereabouts of Jarme Loveage gets a free casting of lesser restoration. He was here recently.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22

Upon arriving at the foul and vile seeming Sow, Sabella opts to stay outside. "Ye gods, the stench from wafting from that place is enough to rival K'Tak's. I'm staying out here, where's it not quite so fragrant."

The two poor drunks look up to Par as he offers Lesser Restoration. "Can you drink it?" At first they joke and and jest, but quickly realize the seriousness of who you all are. Unfortunately, they are all too eager and friendly, and answer quickly. "Oh sure, we know where Jamey Lover is. Yeah, uh, yeah, he's out fishing. He'll be back an hour or so before sundown, parks his boat by The Rigg -- other end of The Alika Narrows in Old Dock. So, uh, can I have some Silver?" But it's clear they're making it up as they go. Alas, despite their willingness and friendliness, they seem to know nothing.

.

Peeking over the bar one can easily see a hatch on the floor, apparently locked from the inside. Exiting the Soiled Sow and looking over the boardwalk you see a mound of mud in a drift, all the way up to the center of The Soiled Sow. It is quite obvious that the mud of Flotsam conceals a small shaft that goes, presumably, to where the proprietor lives -- probably a makeshift apartment or something beneath Flotsam.

From below the hatch, listening carefully, perceptive persons can just make out a slight squealing or snorting noise.

"Ugh these mugs smell like someone urinated in them sulfur! What were you all drinking" Val said with a cough as she seemed to look away form the bodies and inhaled more on the perfumed cloth she held.

K’Tak’Ktah’hal burst back into the Soiled Sow, "There are no trackth leaving thith place, and there is a mound underneath the boardwalk that could conceal a tunnel..." He catfoots to the bar. Easily spotting the hatch, he's over the bar in a flash. He pauses for a second letting his wild-honed senses drink in all they can...

"Seriously, lads, do ya know yer drinkin' beer made with human blood? I've had a lot o' beer in me day, but ne'er anythin' quite like that!"

He listens carefully at the squealing and snorting. "Also, 's there a real live pig down there?" He points at the hatch.

”Surely not a pig, perhaps a rat kin?”

Artemisia gestures towards the door, and the slime and disuse begins to peel back revealing a rather well tended finish under the offal.

Looking at the hatch on the floor insider the bar, K'Tak figures it would not be too terribly difficult to disable the lock for one who knows the skills and has the proper tools with which to bypass locks and traps.

The drunks, for their part, peer into their empty mugs as Val, Muziel and Artemisia discuss the culinary questionability of ale from The Styes' finest, 'Soiled Sow.' "If you don't ask what's in it, you'll never be disappointed," is about the best they can muster, along with the often spoken answer in situations such as these, "What you don't know can't hurt you."

Listening at the hatch going down as he inspects the lock, K'Tak does admit the squealing and snorting below sounds piggish.