|
Gwynn Everard
Until the day prior to that, you’d been earning your keep and the affection of the locals of one of the small villages dotting the Ustalav countryside by aiding them in fending off the remnants of one of the war bands from the savage lands of Numeria. Unfortunately your welcome wore thin when you refused to swear fealty to the Baron of the township, a man of questionable morals by the name of Ferenc, and it was suggested that you leave town in a hurry; a suggestion backed up by a dozen heavily armed soldiers.
And so you were given a bag of coin for your troubles and sent on your way, which has brought you to the small lake-side village of Daven’s Rest.
Gohrum Kraak
But then Desna smiled upon you, when a Pathfinder by the name of Garrick approached you in the dreary tavern, offering to buy you a drink and a job. He was a little ill at ease and nervous, but he seemed like a decent chap, and the job didn’t sound too dangerous: all you had to do was help him watch his back as he made his way to Lastwall. And that’s how, after a uneventful journey, you came to be spending the night in the inn of the small village of Daven’s Rest.
Gargos Ku’thark
But maybe it was just a dream after all; morning has come and the sun has yet to reveal any great tragedies to you.
Uldhazel
But you’re a little above average, and your long years spent studying plus your magical talents might allow you to succeed where others have failed, and so you set off for Daven’s Rest. After arriving a fort-night ago, you’ve been able to devote most of your time to your investigations, but these last few nights you’ve been distracted. A feeling of foreboding hovers at the edges of your acute arcane senses; a feeling that a great storm is hovering on the edge of the horizon.
Irian Du’Lac
You arrived late last night, escaping a furious deluge by taking the last of the inn’s humble rooms. As you sat near the fire of the common room, warming your road-weary body and finally enjoying a hot meal you could feel it in your bones: the spine-chilling feeling that sometime soon, somewhere near, your goddess would have need of your services.
Carawyn Ellyzig Finwinkle
Most of them may seem wary of you, but there’s one, a sweet girl of perhaps sixteen, who’s taken a liking to you. Thiera is the girl’s name, and from the moment you sought refuge from the cold in her father’s inn, she’s been practically begging you to talk to her about your abilities and share stories of the outside world.
You’re in no particular hurry to get to a specific place, so what harm can there be in spending a few days relaxing in the inn, talking to your enthusiastic new friend?
P’Aye de T’Aime
You’ve noted the arrival a few peculiar looking individuals; men and women who look as though they aren’t the typical farmers, beggars, and ne’er do-wells who seem to wander through the town’s gates on occasion. Perhaps your goddess has sent a little luck your way, and these strangers may be able to aid you in your travels.
|
|
The cold rays of the dawn sun creep across the desolate hills and dales of Ustalav, slowly dispelling the oppressive fog that lays over the land, driving it from the cliffs of the shore and out over the cold waters of Lake Kavapesta. Nestled amongst the craggy, unforgiving heights of these cliffs is one of the small villages that dot this haunted countryside.
As the shroud of night is slowly lifted the people of Daven’s rest stir; doors are unbarred, windows cast open, fires rekindled, prayers and greetings spoken. The symphony of the small village’s awakening continues much as it has for generations. But this morning things are different.
It all starts with a startled yell uttered by one of inn keeper Thorson’s daughters, a yell which quickly becomes a scream of terror, shattering the morning tranquility and bringing you suddenly to wakefulness.
|
Gwynn rubs the sleep from his eyes as he pulls the blankets aside and rolls off of the bed, sweeping up his sword from under the frame in one smooth motion. Crouching on the floor of his room, he squints until the blurry light of the morning coalesces into recognizable shapes, and then bounds down the stairs, stopping only to scoop up his shield and sling it across his arm.
Gargos lay awake waiting for the morning sun to break the plane of the small window next to his bed. As the piercing scream met Gargos' ears, he jumped to his feet with a quick step to his robe and backpack he had packed a few days earlier. Maybe that feeling during the night was not just a dream, he thought. Better make my way to the origin, this could be my ticket out of this place. Dressing and grabbing his backpack, Gargos walks quickly to the women screaming.
The familiar sense of forboding had left Uldhazel ill at ease. She had risen early from her meditations just before dawn to observe the skies in the cold morning air as the fogs lifted and the morning light began to creep over the rooftops. She was beginning to stroll out toward good vantage point from which to observe the vault of heaven, when -as if confirming her suspicions - the scream penetrated the air.
Uldhazel makes for the source of the scream, but approaches while scouting the periphery with caution and stealth if she can.
Early morning. Up and about in Devin's Rest. Something disturbing in the air.
Current HP: 8 out of 8 full
Orisons:
Message, Detect Magic, Flare
Level 1: Mage Armour, Colour Spray, Stumble Gap
Level 1 Divination Bonus: True Strike
Experience: -
"The people of this place always rise so late." The lessons learned flood back to me about everything in its place and being open to experience. Being here is so much different... there's so much noise it forces one to tune it so I can even hear myself think.
"What was that?"
Rising from my near trace, I twist my hair quickly into a bun and push the small decorative stick in place to hold it. There are a few strands that are not in place and I smile thinking about what the sisters would have said during inspection, but I smile to myself because there is nobody to say anything this morning and that will have to wait.
No armor.
No weapons.
It does not make sense at this point that I would instantly don armor and weapons as I would not have those instincts. At this point, it seems that I would count on the presence of a crowd to mitigate the need for combat.
As I move toward where I heard the screaming, Perception Check if needed:
Looking to the sky, scanning the rooftops, looking for movement on the streets.
As Gargos moves through the streets he stays alert to anything that seems suspicious to him, taking note of who is moving toward the scream and away.
Carawyn wakes up with a gasp, as her pleasant dream is shattered by a terrified scream. Struggling to wake up, she falls out of bed -- literally, having forgotten as usual that she's sleeping in a human-sized inn. As she stands, she hears Gwynn rushing down the stairs, and with a sudden rush of fear, she realizes exactly what the sound was that woke her.
Calling out for her friend -- "Theira?" -- she joins the flight down the stairs, clad only in her nightgown and wishing she had time to call Mouse.
@Carawyn: "Is Theria your mommy’s name honey? Don't worry, stay by me... we'll find her. My name is P'Aye... what's your name sweetheart?"
@Gwynn: "The Lady in the Room smiles on me to send such a handsome and able protector as yourself. I am P'Aye. I thought I heard a scream..."
@P'Aye: "No, my mother is Hedda Ermalkin Pilwyn. Theria's my friend. She's the innkeeper's daughter."
Carawyn stays close to the pretty half-elf, who's clearly very friendly, letting her lead the way.
@P'Aye: "What do you think happened? And who's the lady in the room? Do you mean me? I heard the scream too."
@Carawyn: "I see," I say with a with an impressed look. Such an odd child not to cleave to her mother. My face hardening briefly, I continue, "The Lady in The Room is my patron... the Goddess Calistra... The Unquenchable Fire who presides over the passions of the pious and visits sweet vengeance to those who would harm the faithful."
Then my expression softens after the brief pontification (almost like I catch myself spouting dogma and I don't like it), I smooth the hair on Carawyn's head and say, "But you my dear, shall be the Little Lady in the Room. How brave you are for coming out here when you heard the scream... perhaps you should be at your mother's side? If you like, I can look to Theria for you."
"Hedda's in Canterwall, so it would be a long trip to go back home. Besides, I doubt she or Fonnab would even leave their lab. They never paid much attention to me, other than that one decade. That's why I left home. I'd call Mouse, but if Theria's scared, I didn't want to wait to help her."
Carawyn's continuing to where she heard the scream, looking around to see if she can see what prompted it.
perception
"But I like the idea of being the Little Lady in the Room. But would Calistra like that? I did learn about her and heard she can be vengeful. My parents never put much faith in religion, but I wouldn't want to offend anyone."
|
|
Everyone in the inn
Approaching Maryn and looking through the doorway, it immediately becomes clear what prompted her scream: the room is in a state of blood-spattered disarray, resembling something more akin to a butcher's shop than anything else. A figure, presumably the man renting the room, lies face-down in the blood-soaked bed, a butcher's cleaver lodged squarely in the middle of his back. Blood has been tracked about the room and the man's possessions thoroughly searched and scattered about the floor.
A cold breeze blows in from the broken window, bringing the stomach-churning stench of death and gore with it into the hallway.
The sound of heavy, hurried footfalls sounds from the stairs and a second later the heavy-set figure of Alder Thorson, the master of the inn, emerges at the landing looking around wild-eyed and clutching a iron-shod club.
He pushes past you and, taking a single glance at the gory scene in the room, interposes himself between it and his now weeping daughter. Putting an arm around her he looks to you ashen faced and asks "What happened here" in a hushed tone.
Gargos and Uldhazel
Gargos stops for a few seconds and notes the broken window and bloody rope, then hurries into the inn making his was to the second floor.
|
|
Gargos
In the cramped hallways, nearly a half-dozen people are clustered around the open door to one of the rooms, including a club-wielding Alder Thorson and a stranger bearing a sword. The familiar stench of death reaches your nostrils as it fills the hall.
Ghorum, incredibly groggy after last nights drinking bout, finally staggers out of his room into the hallway, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjust to the lights. He squints at the group gathered down the hall as he approaches.
"What's goin' on..." he mutters to no one in particular. He quickly realizes he is carrying one of his axes.
He tenses momentarily as the innkeepers heavy footfalls reverberate throughout the inn, but relaxes as soon as he recognizes the man.
A decade??? What manner of child is this?
Taking note of the two men of action each with weapon in hand. Perhaps these two would be agreeable to helping me get to Karcau.
@Carawyn: "I'm sorry, did you say decade? How old are you honey? What's this 'Mouse' you mention? A pet?"
As the breeze floods into the hall, I place a lightly scented handkerchief over my mouth and nose to keep the stench of the slaughter from overwhelming me and think back to Sister Lilliana's lesson on observation of the minutae as I scan the room.
In my flimsy nightclothes that I don't seem too worried about securing completely, I turn Alder Thorson's attention from comforting his daughter briefly to say, "Who was this man? Surely you have a manifest of the occupants? Did anyone share a room with him?"
To the assembling crowd I say, "There's been a murder. Someone fetch the magistrate. You all should dispurse to your rooms so as to not interfere with their investigation."
Irian moved carefully through the crowded corridor until he could see inside teh room. The hairs on his neck were standing on end again, a sign of things to come no doubt.
He looked around the room at teh assembled crowd and noted some of them had come armed, similar to himself. His bare chest prickled with the chill night but more at the portent of the events that lay before him. Ignoring the woman's instructions to disperse, the young man stepped up to the innkeeper, holding his Black Rose amulet of the godess up as he did so. "I am an agent of lady Pharasma, good man. If someone has died here this evening, I will need to see to things". He kept the tone flat, hoping it would convey instruction so the man would follow instinctively.
Already Irian was staring past his shoulder into the room beyond, loooking for clues.
|
|
P'Aye
Thorson momentarily tears his wide eyes from the carnage in the room and shakily says "Fellow's name was Garrick. Told me he was a Pathfinder, so I gave 'im a discount on the room. He seemed nice enough, didn't seem like he'd be someone you'd wanna murder." before falling into silence as his eyes are drawn once more to the corpse on the bed. Seemingly relieved for someone of some authority to be involved, Thorson stands aside, nodding to Irian and P'Aye.
The young guardsman takes a single look into the room, pales, turns away, and proceeds to be quietly sick. As he steps aside, a dark-robed man with pale skin and somewhat harsh features is revealed at the top of the stairs, where he is soon joined by an elven woman.
|
|
Gwynn softly mutters "Aw...hell" as he catches a peek through the crowd at the grisly scene. After several more moments of uneasy silence, he starts, looking embarrassedly at the weapon he is holding rather prominently. Inching back through the crowd, Gwynn ducks back into his room to stow his weapon and shield, donning a proper tunic while he's at it. He re-emerges, furrowing his brow at Thorson's words. "I take it this isn't exactly a common event? No general troublemakers around who would be in this sort of vile business?" He stops for a moment to think, and then continues, "Come to think of it, was this last eve the poor fellow's first night here?"
Uldhazel gingerly steps into the room when space presents itself. Careful not to make additional tracks on the bloodied floor, she begins to examine the scene of the crime.
She starts by looking at the window. Pulling out her lense she looks closely at the glass, frame and sill - looking for any clues.
"Is there an experienced tracker here who can follow the trail of the attacker outside? This victim was obviously searched. Let us see what was left behind. Perhaps we can learn something of the murderer by examining what he or she did not take."
While examining the scene she directs an arcane command to her lense. Spellcrafters will see that she is trying to detect magic in the room as she investigates.
That's draconic... the language of magic. I wonder what she's doing.
"Greetings strangerfriend, it has been many springs since we last met. I am P'Aye De T'Aime, daughter of Irulian Xilpaka, divine harlot of Calistra in Kyonin. Are you able to divine what happened here through that glass?"
To Anyone Listening: "She makes a good point. Are there any among you fine gentlemen with your weapons in your hands who can track prey? It would seem that the first blow was the one that felled him but he was savaged after that. It seems that the killer or one of his associates either lacked control of themself or it was a personal... a need to harm this man. Did anyone know him?"
Three men of action! I wonder what their price would be. Pharasma eh? Strange, he does not have the trappings of a priest. Another one for his mistresses' boneyard it would seem...
To the guard who just added to the reek by disgorging the contents of his stomach on the floor: "When you are finished, I wonder if you could run along and bring the real authority. There's no shame in what you've done, mind you... the reek is terrible but surely this town does not leave matters of the law up to visitors."
@P'Aye: I'm only 61. But plenty of gnomes leave home that early. Usually not the educated ones, though... She sort of trails off as she says that, before saying at her more normal volume: And Mouse is my friend, but it takes me a minute to call him. ... Though maybe I should. I wasn't expecting anyone to be murdered.
Carawyn will look around, see if she can see anything all the tall folk might have missed, as she does have a unique vantage point.
Unlike P'Aye, she does clutch her nightrobe around herself.
|
|
Thorson shakes his head in response to Gwynn, still seeming more than a bit dazed as he ushers his daughter off with whispered instructions to keep people out of the inn. "Nah. What kind of twisted bastard would do something like that? That ain't natural at all." Looking to P'Aye, he again shakes his head "There was a dwarf with him when he arrived yesterday evening, Miss, and he stayed the night too. Don't think he knew anyone in town besides that."
The young guard looks at P'Aye flushing scarlet and not meeting her eyes as he wipes his mouth with the back of his gauntlet. Murmuring something that sounds more or less like a mumbled "Yes ma'am", he rushes down the stairs, apparently eager to leave the scene in the hallway behind.
Uldhazel
Shards of glass and splinters of wood crunch slightly beneath your feet as you gingerly approach the window. The rope is secured by a single iron spike, driven into the wood of the frame, although the murderer got the spike there in the first place isn't readily apparent.
Opening your Sight, you perceive the faintest trace of magic hanging in the air, filling the entirety of the room. Some conjuration has been used here fairly recently, although it wasn't an overwhelmingly strong spell.
Carawyn
You don't need to go far into the room to note something new; one corner of the thin mattress rests higher than the other, as if something were resting beneath it.
Thorson shakes his head in response to Gwynn, still seeming more than a bit dazed as he ushers his daughter off with whispered instructions to keep people out of the inn. "Nah. What kind of twisted bastard would do something like that? That ain't natural at all." Looking to P'Aye, he again shakes his head "There was a dwarf with him when he arrived yesterday evening, Miss, and he stayed the night too. Don't think he knew anyone in town besides that."
Ghorum, now more alert than ever, steps forward. He looks P'Aye in the eye and says "That would be me. He hired me as his bodyguard, for all the good it did him". He shakes his head sadly, a frown crossing his face.
"I needed the money. I'd never been a bodyguard before, and to be honest, I was thinking it'd be easy money. So last night after he retired, I had a few flagons downstairs. He never mentioned any enemies he had to me...". Ghorum trails off mid sentence.
To Anyone Listening: "She makes a good point. Are there any among you fine gentlemen with your weapons in your hands who can track prey? It would seem that the first blow was the one that felled him but he was savaged after that. It seems that the killer or one of his associates either lacked control of themself or it was a personal... a need to harm this man.
Shaking himself out of his reverie, Ghorum peers into the room. "I'll take a look around, to see if I can find any tracks leading away".
He turns to P'Aye, speaking in a low voice. "Just before I returned to my room, I did see a woman enter Garrick's room. Young, dark-haired, if memory serves me".
Stepping up to the doorway finally, Gargos peers around the room laying eyes on the mutilated body. Looking to the hired bodyguard, Ghorum sir, my name is Gargos. Do you know his reasons for visiting Daven's Rest or where he was heading?
"Is there an experienced tracker here who can follow the trail of the attacker outside? This victim was obviously searched. Let us see what was left behind. Perhaps we can learn something of the murderer by examining what he or she did not take."
In response to Uldhazel, Miss, I am sorry I do not know your name. I do have to add that there was a significant rain last night and the tracks may well be washed away. Yet I do agree that we should try.
Responding to P'Aye in perfect Kyonin Elvish
"Let there be many more springs, maiden fair. But if you do remember me from a spring past then let us speak of it openly with one another. I call myself LodeStar, for I seek to find a bearing and refuse to be counted among the lost."
And to Gargos: "I am Uldhazel, lately apprenticed to Thespis. We will go down and look. But I am a little perplexed about what happened here. I can see that something has been conjured in this room recently. How mysterious. Let us go down together and investigate at ground level."
She looks at the spike with an expression of concern and skepticism before heading back down to the ground below the window.
|
|
Exiting the inn proves to be something of a challenge, as a sizable crowd has gathered around the door. A man who appears to be the town's sheriff - a grey-haired dwarven man clad in a scale mail emblazoned with Abadar's symbol - pushes his way through the crowd outside the door, ignoring their questions, and stumps up the stairs.
Seeing you, several of the villagers press forward, assailing you with frightened queries as to what prompted the scream.
Seeing that so many others were starting to investigate this murder, Irian quietly slipped back to his room where he dressed more appropriately. Once he had donned his clothes, he made his way back to the room. "You people will need to clear some space so I can look over the body and ensure my Lady of the Grave has escorted the spirit."
He had found that presenting himself as an official of the ladies work seemed to work well in situations like this. Not that he knew the right way to go about preparing bodies for their final rights. He just needed to get close to dead man so he could find out more about his death.
Irian stared down at the dead pathfinder and checked over his body carefully, trying to determine more about teh cause of death and any other clues he might find from the body. From there he also expanded his search to the rest of the room, trying not to interfere with the one casting magics.
After conducting his search, Irian says a quiet prayer over the man, one of the few rituals he knew. Turning to the gathered crowd he suggests "We should ajourn to the main room to discuss what we have foundand best determine what to do here." Turning to the sickened guard he asks "Are any more of you coming? The longer it takes to investigate this crime, the more chance the murderer will have to escape"
edit- You ninja'd me there a bit DM.
"There's something under his bed, I think. I don't really want to go in there, but maybe that's what they were looking for."
Just as Gargos starts to turn to leave he hears Carawyn call to everyone. Turning back, he walks over to the bed and crouches next to it looking for the evidence.
|
|
Irian
As Irian begins investigating the room, Gargos enters and lifts the corner of the mattress which Carawyn indicated. A decently sized pouch has been hidden under the mattress, and further investigation will reveal that it is filled with several dozen golden coins.
Moments later, the sheriff tromps up the stairs, emerging at the top of the stairs as Irian suggests that they leave the scene and discuss their findings. "That sounds like a great idea." he says, eying the collected strangers suspiciously and pushing past them into the room. "Why don't you ladies back off and let me do my job."
@Carawyn: Blushing slightly I say, "I must apologize. I mistook you for a human child. I have heard of the folk of the first world before but never had an occasion to meet one. Please forgive me... I did not intend to offend you."
@Gohrum: I place a hand on your shoulder and say, "Don't take it to heavily friend. His death is not your failure. There seems to be something foul afoot. In addition to what our cowled friend has said about his destination, would you be able to recognize this woman you saw entering his room last night if you saw her again?"
@Uldhazel:
"You shall not be counted among the lost if your life is lived with purpose. Tell me, you have bearing of the classically schooled in theories of magic and the arcane. Does that include the gift of foresight or, more specifically, hindsight? Can you pierce the veil of time to see what happened to this man?"
@Irian: "I think your inquiry would be better directed to this fine dwarven gentleman here." Gesturing to the sherrif that has ascended the stairs.
@Sherrif: "Something wrong has transpired here sir. Murder most foul and, though it would seem that this man (gesturing at Irian) indicates that his soul has passed into the embrace of whatever god he worshiped, the heinous nature of the crime and that there was sorcery involved lead me to believe that there are likely few that could perpitrate this atrocity. Do you know of anyone who could have done such a thing from what you know of the locals in town?"
To P'Aye in Elven:
To no one in particular:
Oh dear. I fear the scene of crime is overrun. I must hurry down before the fresh mud of the streets is trampled over. If only we had a skilled tracker with us.
Uldhazel pauses briefly to observe the scene and commit as much detail of it as she can to memory. Then she squeezes her way down to the street to look for more clues.
To P'aye: Oh, you didn't offend me! I just thought you meant because I was so young I should be back home. I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself more clearly; I hope you're not upset that I confused you!
I guess we should go downstairs. It seems like the sheriff doesn't want us up here.
Carawyn turns to go downstairs with the various tall folk who seem interested. She feels bad for the inkeeper, whose daughter is such a good friend, and if there's something she can do to help, it would be wrong not to. After all, it seemed like everyone else would have missed those coins, she thinks to herself.
|
|
Could I please get a headcount of who's going downstairs and who's staying upstairs?
The sheriff opens his mouth in preparation for a snide response, if his expression is any indication, but he closes his mouth as he notes P'Aye's somewhat scantily-clad state. In a somewhat more polite tone, he nods sagely and responds "Oh, aye. You're a smart one, I can tell. We don't have anyone capable of that in this town. I run a real tight ship, see. Must've been one of those twisted foreign bastards you see on occasion. No offense."
Uldhazel, you manage to bypass most of the crowd's attention, which is shifted to one of the inn's servants who emerges from the building and begins conveying a highly dramatic account of mass slaughter and foul rituals to an audience of several rapt villagers.
Approaching the ground beneath the window, you find that any footprints that might have been there have, as you feared, been largely obliterated by the previous night's weather and this morning's crowd. You do note that there is very little debris from the window, which would indicate it being broken inwards, rather than outwards by someone inside the room.
Carawyn
|
|
Gwynn spares an incredulous glance to the sheriff's back as he passes into the room where the grisly event took place. Then he looks at the other curious parties. I failed to spy anything amiss, yet I gather from the rest of you that little surrounding this event is ordinary nor simple. If it doesn't offend, I will join you in the common room as you make this story ever-clearer. With that, Gwynn turns to head downstairs.
Irian nods his head to the sheriff, unwilling at this point to start trying to but heads with the law. He'd had to deal with watchmen before in his work with the Death Goddess, but most were good men. He tried to read this one now, to determine if he were legitimately competent or trying to cover anything up
"Try not to disturb the body too much Sheriff. We must treat it with respect lest the spirit takes offense and is unable to pass through the ebon gates for judegement."
With that, he turns and leaves the room, heading down to the common room to confer with those he had also seen investigate.
For those who care to listen to him downstairs
Carawyn decides to go in search of Theira, to make sure she's OK. Surely, her father just didn't want her to see what happened. Though that does make her curious ... why had Maryn opened that poor man's door in the first place? No one had opened her door that morning.
Gargos rises from his crouched position as the sheriff enters the room. There is a sack of coins under the mattress sir. Gargos states as he walks toward the door nodding to the dwarf. I will be downstairs in the common room with the others if you need me. Walking slowly out of the room, Gargos heads downstairs to meet up with the others.
@Sherriff: Noting his eyes dropped before he looked back up to speak to me, I say, "We are delivered from chaos by your arrival sir.
I curtsey so that my cleavage is on his level and in his eye line then, I say as I stand up, "We do not seek to impede you in the administration of your duties good sir. We are obviously concerned by this happening and if you can keep me abreast of your investigation, I would be deeply grateful and sleep much easier."
"It is unfortunate that we cannot divine the killer's identity... I know I would sleep better with a quick resolution to this matter; yet, as I think on who could be responsible, I shudder for the Sheriff says that nobody living in the town is capable of this so, if that is true, then suspicion will be cast upon people new to town - like ourselves. Either that or somebody of sufficient influence and malevolence has compelled one of the townsfolk into this murder. I fear that the easier route is always suspicion of strangers. Take care as you inquire after this matter that we do not press too hard and provoke the ire of the town. Know also that you have an ally in me until the time of our parting is upon us."
@Carawyn: After addressing the Sherriff and Uldhazel, I turn to Carawyn with a smile, and reach out to tuck back another strand of hair that has come undone behind her ear, "With those eyes, I think it would be utterly impossible to be angry with you even if it were warranted... which in this case it is not." As Carawyn moves down the hall away from her room (to go find Theria) I touch her shoulder lightly, "Perhaps we should change into more suitable attire Little Lady... I fear if we continue to stroll around in our bedclothes, your admirers will start falling over themselves!"
With that, I piviot on the ball of my foot and trot back to my room so that I can don my equipment.
Uldhazel returns to the common room. Listening to Irian she nods and then responds:
"Hello. I am Uldhazel. There are several facets to this case that are interesting to me, which is why I am here to assist in the investigation if I may.
I have a "heightened" sense of awareness at times, which comes from my arcane training, and I definitely had a feeling that something dark was afoot this morning - so that when the commotion here started I was not surprised. This kind of foreshadowing is not so common for me...it worries me..and piques my interest.
As you say, Sir - the victim was killed cleanly with a decisive cut to the throat. If that is the case, what purpose did it serve for the killer to follow up by savagely gashing the body and making a bloody mess? A compelling question. Or were there two perpetrators? Maybe it is a red herring to confuse us.
I was able to detect a lingering aura of conjuration magic in the room....it seemed to be a residue from a low level conjuration, so I am doubtful that we are dealing with a summoned killer or conjured escape. I am trying to think of what kind of spell or effect it was. Of course I might be wrong...I am not an expert in this kind of magic.
The glass shards are only inside the room, suggesting that someone or some creature came in from outside. Unfotunately it appears any tracks outside have been trodden over or washed away. And what of the girl who screamed. Did anyone recognize her from her voice. Where is she now"?
We now need more clues. Does anyone else have something to share?"