Amdaeng enjoys the walk but having grown up in the Metropolos of Fang she is still unused to the rural environment despite her river-trip and coastal hiking recently.
She was wearing black kamkeng le and a green one shoulder halter with her daab at her side and throwing darts tucked into her belt, her pack was on her back but she kept adjusting it unused to carrying it yet.
" I'm afraid I wasn't much use arriving late, but they didn't seem too much of a threat considering how quickly you put them down."
"Stealing is never worth it," Lev scoffs before shoving the thug away from him (not off the roof though). "I hope you learned your lesson."
Apparently the others bought rooms, well that means that Lev doesn't have to buy one but... he's not used to sharing. Fortunately the night went by uneventfully, even with the dark elf there. At least Vydar had the decency to come out to help, perhaps he won't be that bad after all.
Even with the wonderful meal provided, Lev is in a hurry to get to where they are going. He doesn't say much during breakfast, and is the first one to be ready to leave. He is dressed in the same thing he was last night--worn leather armor with a light tan undershirt and dark pants. He's carrying a curved sword alongside his glaive, as well as some archery equipment. The glaive has clearly seen the most use out of all his weapons, and his armor has seen better days.
His expression doesn't really change when Paevira holds up the blood-image of Ruberk, "I suppose so." He isn't really sure why Paevira wants to find out more about the guy. The thug is dead, and if there is more to uncover then it really isn't his problem. He just wants a job. All he can say to Paevira's thanks and comment on their teamwork is, "Mmph."Which could be an agreement or otherwise... perhaps just an acknowledgment? It's hard to tell, and he likely will pretend he had nothing to do with anything that happened last night.
Once the group heads back to the tavern, Vydar acts as if the skirmish outside never happened. Now even more tired than he'd been before, he heads to whichever room the key he'd taken opens and picks the bed farthest from the door. Once he'd done that, he kicks his travel worn shoes off, hangs his scarf over the headrest, and plops down on the bed facing the wall while holding his satchel at his chest. He doesn't intend to leave that where someone could snatch it while he's meditating.
Unlike Paevira, Vydar sleeps in. He can't even remember the last time he'd slept in a bed and with the comfort of a mattress, his lack of rest caught up to him....at least that's what he'd tell himself. Likely the last to arrive for breakfast. The dark elf descends the stairs looking rather disheveled, it's pretty obvious that he'd slept in his clothes from the previous day. However, with the swiftness at which he devoured his meal, his late start to the day wouldn't cost the party much time. Though when Paevira holds up her bloody map he cringes. "Really? Did you have to show me that when I'm eating?!"Pushing the little remains of his food away, he gets up, "Well now that my food is ruined--" He's cut off when the red-head thanks everyone for intervening last night. Not that he really did much for her. He'd really only gotten involved because he wanted to teach those slimeballs a lesson...at least that's what he tells himself. He shrugs off her thanks and looks away as she pays Amdaeng back for the rooms.
He doesn't talk much when he leads the group to the place Natalie had said she'd be meeting someone. Even if they ask where he'd leading them he'd just shrug them off. He walks briskly, clearly a man used to traveling around. His leather satchel hangs at his left side, and a dagger hangs from his belt on his right hip. As he walks a good distance ahead, he takes periodic glances back at each person following him, squinting noticeably as he does so. Though he glances towards Paevira a bit more frequently. He's not really sure why she's still with them as she is the only one who hadn't been looking for Natalie....well aside from himself...his deciding to come had been a last minute change of plans.
Arriving at the destination, he stops right inside the covered bridge and turns to face everyone no longer squinting from the sunlight. "This is where she said she'd be."
As Vydar and the group turn to face the impressively long bridge, you can clearly see across it. But, the famous Natalie Storm is nowhere to be seen. (There is no cover for potential ambushes. Just a 50-foot bridge going across fairly fast-moving water running toward the coast and a road going northeast. Note, the bridge has window-like openings to view the beautiful river, no words on the front)
On a closer look, you see a small wooden box about halfway across the bridge on the left side. Then, your sharp eyes pick up something at the other end of the bridge. It's an upturned wagon! It is partially on the river bank, and partially in the river.
(OOC: Perception and other skill checks, as well as any other actions)
Iólinder put away his crossbow when he saw the situation was handled. He took notice of Paevira imprinting the thug's face onto paper but said nothing of it. He did not know the redhaired lady so for all it was, it could just be a religious thing. Gods above knew he had seen his fair share of strange and unusual religious rituals.
He agreed to the sleeping arrangements without paying much attention to them. He just wanted the day to be over, to crawl into a warm bed and have a dreamless sleep. The night passed as it normally did. In the morning Iólinder performed his usual two prayers: one to Libra to guide his actions and one to Telak to give him the courage to realise said actions. Afterwards he joined the others for the morning hustle and bustle of breakfast and getting ready to head out.
The meeting place was an hour away on foot: a place called Salmon Bridge. The weather was agreeable compared to the Iólinder's previous journey and he did not mind getting a bit of walking done. All in all he liked walking though the heaviness of all his gear and stuff put a bit of a damper on the activity. Nonetheless he was in good spirits. The metal scaled of his armour softly jingled with each step he took and the rather cumbersome crossbow he used the night before was slung across his back. In his left hand he held a shield but curiously no other weapon hung from his belt. The golden amulet in the shape of a sword across his chest was all Iólinder needed.
They arrived at the Salmon Bridge with nary a sight of the illustrious Professor Storm. What Iólinder did spot was an upturned wagon laying halfway on the river bank and in the water. His hand reached for the golden sword and touched it. Divine magic poured into his voice amplifying its properties. 'Professor Storm?' Iólinder asked about three times as loud as his normal voice would carry.
Casting Thaumaturgy choosing the first effect of making Iólinder's voice three times as loud. Perception check: 18
You'll probably need to take a closer look. Other than the fish jumping and the sounds of the running river, there is no answer to your call. The small wooden box in the middle of the bridge is open but you are too far away to tell what might be inside, or if anyone is in the wagon.
Vydar recognizes the wagon instantly. He does not see Charlie.
When Paevira sees the knocked over wagon and the opened box she will look for any active signs of danger and begin to move cautiously forward, looking for any type of traps or unseen dangers, particularly when she gets near the box.
As Paevira cautiously creeps forward, you see no signs of traps. The only danger is the current of the river so far. As you get closer to the box, it appears to have fishing gear inside. Hooks of various sizes, some metal weights, lures, flies, a pair of small pliers, and a bait kit: Some small dead insects, and little dead fish. The area would be a good spot to fish from.
As your eyes scan the river from the bridge, you see a body face down, about 100 feet downriver on the bank, same side as the cart.
When Paevira points the body out, Vydar's heart goes to his throat.
As soon as he sees and recognizes the wagon, Vydar dashes down towards it. How could this happen? This couldn't have just been an accident. He intends to search for any sign of foul play.
Perception: 6
However, his is dash falters when Paevira calls out, alerting him of the body.
Dropping his satchel on the shore he rushes along the bank. No no no. This can't be happening. He splashes out into the river and grabs the elderly dwarf. Flipping her over, he frantically drags her out of the water. It's obvious that they were too late to save her, but the elf checks her vitals anyway grasping at the slim chance she could be alive. Nothing. No pulse. She's gone.
He'd only traveled with her for a short time, but she'd reminded him of the only other person he'd ever been close too. Why did she have to die too? Despite the icy claws of grief gripping his heart, no tears fall. On his face is only pained anger. This couldn't have been an accident. She said she was meeting someone, and there is no sign of anyone else here. He grits his teeth. If only he knew who she was meeting. Steeling himself, he examines Natalie's corpse for any signs of a struggle.
As you run past the wagon (poor perception), it appears to have rolled off the bank and into the river, but you certainly don't take any time to confirm that theory.
Natalie Storm appears to have died last night. She has a black dagger in her back, and multiple arrow wounds. One of her legs is broken. Your best guess is that she was fishing, was stabbed in the back by some unseen assassin, fell from the bridge, and then was pelted by arrows from multiple assailants. Her body was swept by the rivers currents finally arriving on shore some 100 feet down stream.
She was a middle-aged dwarf, lean yet stocky in build with a long grey braided beard with some red yet remaining. She still wears a sort of suit jacket with a vest with many pockets, and cropped trousers.
She has a monocle on a chain attached to her pocket, and still anchored to her belt she carries a whip and crossbow. Clearly, she never had a chance to defend herself. On the banks, is her hat. A brown leather oval-shaped hat with a curved brim and pinched crown. It has a braided leather strap around it, some feathers of colorful parrots from a place far from here, and a round turquoise gem in the front. There are three large fishing hooks pushed through the brim of the hat so they won’t fall off.
Lev's heart sinks as he takes in the scene, standing silently as everyone else starts moving or calling to search for survivors. This scene is just too ominous. He knew what they would find even before Paevira pointed out the body. When Vydar hurries to pull the floating dwarf out of the water, Lev's demeanor cracks upon seeing Natalie's face. He recognizes her, she's just as she was when he'd met her all those years ago.
He closes his eyes and lowers his head for a moment. Now what is he supposed to do? The one person he thought he could trust... gone. Just like that.
Somberly, he turns his attention to the wagon, clearly this was no accident.
Perception: 5 (OOC: ugh)
Unfortunately his attention is elsewhere and he can't determine much from the wreckage. Perhaps he's just lost the desire. Or perhaps he's in shock. Either way he seems utterly emotionless about this whole thing.
He walks over the bridge and down to the bank on the other side. Upon reaching the wagon, he clenches his teeth. Why would anyone do this? He bends down and picks up the dwarf's hat, fingering it before looking back at the wagon.
Though he determines he was wrong about the time she was attacked, it is all to obvious that his fear was correct. This was an obvious assassination, but the question is why. Sure a lot of the folks around here seemed to dislike her, but clearly not enough to actually go through with something like this. If that were the case, it would have happened already with the frequency she seemed to have traveled through here. As these thoughts run through his head, he pulls the black dagger from the dwarf's back.
Gripping the knife angrily, he lays her down then starts walking over, intending to pick up the hat. However, Lev gets to it first. The thought of snatching it away from the black elf crosses his mind, but he decides not to. There are more important things to address. Who did this, and why? Walking back towards the cart, he picks up his satchel on the way. It may seem odd that he'd just leave her body like that, but right now he wants to return to the wagon to farther investigate.
The wagon lies half-submerged in a river. Two of its wooden wheels are submerged in the fast-moving water, jutting out at odd angles from the water, broken and mangled. The cart's once-sturdy frame is twisted and splintered, with a tangle of broken planks and shattered parts. The river pulls at the wreckage, carrying away fragments of its former load. A few larger crates are still attached to the wagon with stout ropes and unopened.
While looking around, Lev notices something else near the wagon.Stuck on a rock is a book of some sort. A large open leather tome lies soaking in the mud and rushing water. A huge red salmon nibbles on it, then swims on.
Others investigate the wagon tracks up at where the road crosses the bridge.
There are countless footprints of various sizes. Not very old, perhaps a day or less.
There is no signs of a struggle. The wagon was not moving. There are also several huge footprints, the size of a giant or troll. You surmise the wagon owner crossed the bridge, parking the cart at the other end. Then came to the center of the bridge to fish. At some point, someone or something upturned the cart. It rolled down the embankment and entered the river, its frame and wheels not strong enough to withstand the damage.
Paevira is deeply disturbed by this attack. She will thoroughly investigate the tracks and the arrows that are embedded in the poor dwarven woman she was going to meet. This cannot be a coincidental assault, it was planned. She will write down everything they find and she will draw the bridge in map form to see if she can plot their strategy
investigation: 15
she really has nothing to say as she can see how hurt and distraught the others are. A few of them have close ties to this woman. Maybe the soaking book might have some notes that might shed light on what she was working on
Upon noticing the book, Lev wades out to fetch it--still holding Natalie's hat in one hand.
Lifting the soaked book out of the water, he looks to the rest of the wreckage. Clearly whoever did this just wanted to kill her. They weren't after whatever she had with her in her cart. Perhaps they should search Natalie's belongings... but then again, he doesn't feel particularly good about that idea.
He brings the book ashore, handling it gently so as not to tear the pages. Hopefully the ink hasn't been washed out of it.
Paevira confirms the following: Natalie Storm was killed from behind by a black dagger, still imbedded in her back. She was pushed off the bridge, breaking bones in the fall. On the edge of the bank were multiple assailants, shooting arrows at her. No one searched her body. No one seems to have searched the cart, or what items remain on it. You do not see the horse that pulled the cart, nor the fishing pool. There is no blood on the cart or bank. In collaborating with the others, the prints are less than a day old. There could be more than 20-30. The footprints head toward the mountains. There is more than one set of prints from, likely a giant. You all assume that the giant or more than one, upturned the cart, which rolled down into the river.
Shushing away the fish, Lev lifts the book. On the front is stamped: N.A.S. Most likely her notes or journal, and as you feared, much of the black ink has bled and smudged, making most of it almost completely illegible. There are several maps in the back of the book. It is quite clear that the last page in the map section is torn out.
(Can examine the dagger, arrow bolts further but will take some time, Carts belongings have not been examined much yet.
Vydar does not take a moment to study the dagger just yet. Instead he just carries it with him, holding it in the reverse grip as he examines the footprints around the wagon. Why did so many people need to come here for an assassination?
Noting them, he looks inside the wagon and around at all the luggage everywhere. He racks his brain trying to remember everything he'd seen in the wagon. Remembering the bag of coins she'd kept with her, he looks around for that.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Amdaeng let the others move forward to investigate the body and the wagon, she was more worried that the attackers might still be nearby and waiting for others to investigate the crime scene.
She looked about for the highest vantage point and began climbing it to see if she could see any observers nearby or something that was not obvious from ground level.
Off in the distance on the wagon side upriver, Amdaeng sees some movement. It blends in fairly well but when it moves again, maybe a small horse, some 500 feet away
Amdaeng enjoys the walk but having grown up in the Metropolos of Fang she is still unused to the rural environment despite her river-trip and coastal hiking recently.
She was wearing black kamkeng le and a green one shoulder halter with her daab at her side and throwing darts tucked into her belt, her pack was on her back but she kept adjusting it unused to carrying it yet.
" I'm afraid I wasn't much use arriving late, but they didn't seem too much of a threat considering how quickly you put them down."
"Stealing is never worth it," Lev scoffs before shoving the thug away from him (not off the roof though). "I hope you learned your lesson."
Apparently the others bought rooms, well that means that Lev doesn't have to buy one but... he's not used to sharing. Fortunately the night went by uneventfully, even with the dark elf there. At least Vydar had the decency to come out to help, perhaps he won't be that bad after all.
Even with the wonderful meal provided, Lev is in a hurry to get to where they are going. He doesn't say much during breakfast, and is the first one to be ready to leave. He is dressed in the same thing he was last night--worn leather armor with a light tan undershirt and dark pants. He's carrying a curved sword alongside his glaive, as well as some archery equipment. The glaive has clearly seen the most use out of all his weapons, and his armor has seen better days.
His expression doesn't really change when Paevira holds up the blood-image of Ruberk, "I suppose so." He isn't really sure why Paevira wants to find out more about the guy. The thug is dead, and if there is more to uncover then it really isn't his problem. He just wants a job. All he can say to Paevira's thanks and comment on their teamwork is, "Mmph." Which could be an agreement or otherwise... perhaps just an acknowledgment? It's hard to tell, and he likely will pretend he had nothing to do with anything that happened last night.
Once the group heads back to the tavern, Vydar acts as if the skirmish outside never happened. Now even more tired than he'd been before, he heads to whichever room the key he'd taken opens and picks the bed farthest from the door. Once he'd done that, he kicks his travel worn shoes off, hangs his scarf over the headrest, and plops down on the bed facing the wall while holding his satchel at his chest. He doesn't intend to leave that where someone could snatch it while he's meditating.
Unlike Paevira, Vydar sleeps in. He can't even remember the last time he'd slept in a bed and with the comfort of a mattress, his lack of rest caught up to him....at least that's what he'd tell himself. Likely the last to arrive for breakfast. The dark elf descends the stairs looking rather disheveled, it's pretty obvious that he'd slept in his clothes from the previous day. However, with the swiftness at which he devoured his meal, his late start to the day wouldn't cost the party much time. Though when Paevira holds up her bloody map he cringes. "Really? Did you have to show me that when I'm eating?!" Pushing the little remains of his food away, he gets up, "Well now that my food is ruined--" He's cut off when the red-head thanks everyone for intervening last night. Not that he really did much for her. He'd really only gotten involved because he wanted to teach those slimeballs a lesson...at least that's what he tells himself. He shrugs off her thanks and looks away as she pays Amdaeng back for the rooms.
He doesn't talk much when he leads the group to the place Natalie had said she'd be meeting someone. Even if they ask where he'd leading them he'd just shrug them off. He walks briskly, clearly a man used to traveling around. His leather satchel hangs at his left side, and a dagger hangs from his belt on his right hip. As he walks a good distance ahead, he takes periodic glances back at each person following him, squinting noticeably as he does so. Though he glances towards Paevira a bit more frequently. He's not really sure why she's still with them as she is the only one who hadn't been looking for Natalie....well aside from himself...his deciding to come had been a last minute change of plans.
Arriving at the destination, he stops right inside the covered bridge and turns to face everyone no longer squinting from the sunlight. "This is where she said she'd be."
As Vydar and the group turn to face the impressively long bridge, you can clearly see across it. But, the famous Natalie Storm is nowhere to be seen. (There is no cover for potential ambushes. Just a 50-foot bridge going across fairly fast-moving water running toward the coast and a road going northeast. Note, the bridge has window-like openings to view the beautiful river, no words on the front)
On a closer look, you see a small wooden box about halfway across the bridge on the left side. Then, your sharp eyes pick up something at the other end of the bridge. It's an upturned wagon! It is partially on the river bank, and partially in the river.
(OOC: Perception and other skill checks, as well as any other actions)
Iólinder put away his crossbow when he saw the situation was handled. He took notice of Paevira imprinting the thug's face onto paper but said nothing of it. He did not know the redhaired lady so for all it was, it could just be a religious thing. Gods above knew he had seen his fair share of strange and unusual religious rituals.
He agreed to the sleeping arrangements without paying much attention to them. He just wanted the day to be over, to crawl into a warm bed and have a dreamless sleep. The night passed as it normally did. In the morning Iólinder performed his usual two prayers: one to Libra to guide his actions and one to Telak to give him the courage to realise said actions. Afterwards he joined the others for the morning hustle and bustle of breakfast and getting ready to head out.
The meeting place was an hour away on foot: a place called Salmon Bridge. The weather was agreeable compared to the Iólinder's previous journey and he did not mind getting a bit of walking done. All in all he liked walking though the heaviness of all his gear and stuff put a bit of a damper on the activity. Nonetheless he was in good spirits. The metal scaled of his armour softly jingled with each step he took and the rather cumbersome crossbow he used the night before was slung across his back. In his left hand he held a shield but curiously no other weapon hung from his belt. The golden amulet in the shape of a sword across his chest was all Iólinder needed.
They arrived at the Salmon Bridge with nary a sight of the illustrious Professor Storm. What Iólinder did spot was an upturned wagon laying halfway on the river bank and in the water. His hand reached for the golden sword and touched it. Divine magic poured into his voice amplifying its properties. 'Professor Storm?' Iólinder asked about three times as loud as his normal voice would carry.
Casting Thaumaturgy choosing the first effect of making Iólinder's voice three times as loud.
Perception check: 18
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
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You'll probably need to take a closer look. Other than the fish jumping and the sounds of the running river, there is no answer to your call. The small wooden box in the middle of the bridge is open but you are too far away to tell what might be inside, or if anyone is in the wagon.
Vydar recognizes the wagon instantly. He does not see Charlie.
When Paevira sees the knocked over wagon and the opened box she will look for any active signs of danger and begin to move cautiously forward, looking for any type of traps or unseen dangers, particularly when she gets near the box.
Perception: 13
investigation: ( for traps and sneaks) : 18
As Paevira cautiously creeps forward, you see no signs of traps. The only danger is the current of the river so far. As you get closer to the box, it appears to have fishing gear inside. Hooks of various sizes, some metal weights, lures, flies, a pair of small pliers, and a bait kit: Some small dead insects, and little dead fish. The area would be a good spot to fish from.
As your eyes scan the river from the bridge, you see a body face down, about 100 feet downriver on the bank, same side as the cart.
When Paevira points the body out, Vydar's heart goes to his throat.
Professor Natalie Storm
As soon as he sees and recognizes the wagon, Vydar dashes down towards it. How could this happen? This couldn't have just been an accident. He intends to search for any sign of foul play.
Perception: 6
However, his is dash falters when Paevira calls out, alerting him of the body.
Dropping his satchel on the shore he rushes along the bank. No no no. This can't be happening. He splashes out into the river and grabs the elderly dwarf. Flipping her over, he frantically drags her out of the water. It's obvious that they were too late to save her, but the elf checks her vitals anyway grasping at the slim chance she could be alive. Nothing. No pulse. She's gone.
He'd only traveled with her for a short time, but she'd reminded him of the only other person he'd ever been close too. Why did she have to die too? Despite the icy claws of grief gripping his heart, no tears fall. On his face is only pained anger. This couldn't have been an accident. She said she was meeting someone, and there is no sign of anyone else here. He grits his teeth. If only he knew who she was meeting. Steeling himself, he examines Natalie's corpse for any signs of a struggle.
Investigation: 19
As you run past the wagon (poor perception), it appears to have rolled off the bank and into the river, but you certainly don't take any time to confirm that theory.
Natalie Storm appears to have died last night. She has a black dagger in her back, and multiple arrow wounds. One of her legs is broken. Your best guess is that she was fishing, was stabbed in the back by some unseen assassin, fell from the bridge, and then was pelted by arrows from multiple assailants. Her body was swept by the rivers currents finally arriving on shore some 100 feet down stream.
She was a middle-aged dwarf, lean yet stocky in build with a long grey braided beard with some red yet remaining. She still wears a sort of suit jacket with a vest with many pockets, and cropped trousers.
She has a monocle on a chain attached to her pocket, and still anchored to her belt she carries a whip and crossbow. Clearly, she never had a chance to defend herself. On the banks, is her hat. A brown leather oval-shaped hat with a curved brim and pinched crown. It has a braided leather strap around it, some feathers of colorful parrots from a place far from here, and a round turquoise gem in the front. There are three large fishing hooks pushed through the brim of the hat so they won’t fall off.
Lev's heart sinks as he takes in the scene, standing silently as everyone else starts moving or calling to search for survivors. This scene is just too ominous. He knew what they would find even before Paevira pointed out the body. When Vydar hurries to pull the floating dwarf out of the water, Lev's demeanor cracks upon seeing Natalie's face. He recognizes her, she's just as she was when he'd met her all those years ago.
He closes his eyes and lowers his head for a moment. Now what is he supposed to do? The one person he thought he could trust... gone. Just like that.
Somberly, he turns his attention to the wagon, clearly this was no accident.
Perception: 5 (OOC: ugh)
Unfortunately his attention is elsewhere and he can't determine much from the wreckage. Perhaps he's just lost the desire. Or perhaps he's in shock. Either way he seems utterly emotionless about this whole thing.
He walks over the bridge and down to the bank on the other side. Upon reaching the wagon, he clenches his teeth. Why would anyone do this? He bends down and picks up the dwarf's hat, fingering it before looking back at the wagon.
Investigation: 23 (nat 20)
Though he determines he was wrong about the time she was attacked, it is all to obvious that his fear was correct. This was an obvious assassination, but the question is why. Sure a lot of the folks around here seemed to dislike her, but clearly not enough to actually go through with something like this. If that were the case, it would have happened already with the frequency she seemed to have traveled through here. As these thoughts run through his head, he pulls the black dagger from the dwarf's back.
Gripping the knife angrily, he lays her down then starts walking over, intending to pick up the hat. However, Lev gets to it first. The thought of snatching it away from the black elf crosses his mind, but he decides not to. There are more important things to address. Who did this, and why? Walking back towards the cart, he picks up his satchel on the way. It may seem odd that he'd just leave her body like that, but right now he wants to return to the wagon to farther investigate.
The wagon lies half-submerged in a river. Two of its wooden wheels are submerged in the fast-moving water, jutting out at odd angles from the water, broken and mangled. The cart's once-sturdy frame is twisted and splintered, with a tangle of broken planks and shattered parts. The river pulls at the wreckage, carrying away fragments of its former load. A few larger crates are still attached to the wagon with stout ropes and unopened.
While looking around, Lev notices something else near the wagon.Stuck on a rock is a book of some sort. A large open leather tome lies soaking in the mud and rushing water. A huge red salmon nibbles on it, then swims on.
Others investigate the wagon tracks up at where the road crosses the bridge.
There are countless footprints of various sizes. Not very old, perhaps a day or less.
There is no signs of a struggle. The wagon was not moving. There are also several huge footprints, the size of a giant or troll. You surmise the wagon owner crossed the bridge, parking the cart at the other end. Then came to the center of the bridge to fish. At some point, someone or something upturned the cart. It rolled down the embankment and entered the river, its frame and wheels not strong enough to withstand the damage.
Paevira is deeply disturbed by this attack. She will thoroughly investigate the tracks and the arrows that are embedded in the poor dwarven woman she was going to meet. This cannot be a coincidental assault, it was planned. She will write down everything they find and she will draw the bridge in map form to see if she can plot their strategy
investigation: 15
she really has nothing to say as she can see how hurt and distraught the others are. A few of them have close ties to this woman. Maybe the soaking book might have some notes that might shed light on what she was working on
Upon noticing the book, Lev wades out to fetch it--still holding Natalie's hat in one hand.
Lifting the soaked book out of the water, he looks to the rest of the wreckage. Clearly whoever did this just wanted to kill her. They weren't after whatever she had with her in her cart. Perhaps they should search Natalie's belongings... but then again, he doesn't feel particularly good about that idea.
He brings the book ashore, handling it gently so as not to tear the pages. Hopefully the ink hasn't been washed out of it.
Paevira confirms the following: Natalie Storm was killed from behind by a black dagger, still imbedded in her back. She was pushed off the bridge, breaking bones in the fall. On the edge of the bank were multiple assailants, shooting arrows at her. No one searched her body. No one seems to have searched the cart, or what items remain on it. You do not see the horse that pulled the cart, nor the fishing pool. There is no blood on the cart or bank. In collaborating with the others, the prints are less than a day old. There could be more than 20-30. The footprints head toward the mountains. There is more than one set of prints from, likely a giant. You all assume that the giant or more than one, upturned the cart, which rolled down into the river.
Shushing away the fish, Lev lifts the book. On the front is stamped: N.A.S. Most likely her notes or journal, and as you feared, much of the black ink has bled and smudged, making most of it almost completely illegible. There are several maps in the back of the book. It is quite clear that the last page in the map section is torn out.
(Can examine the dagger, arrow bolts further but will take some time, Carts belongings have not been examined much yet.
Vydar does not take a moment to study the dagger just yet. Instead he just carries it with him, holding it in the reverse grip as he examines the footprints around the wagon. Why did so many people need to come here for an assassination?
Noting them, he looks inside the wagon and around at all the luggage everywhere. He racks his brain trying to remember everything he'd seen in the wagon. Remembering the bag of coins she'd kept with her, he looks around for that.
Perception: 18
Investigation: 20
Amdaeng let the others move forward to investigate the body and the wagon, she was more worried that the attackers might still be nearby and waiting for others to investigate the crime scene.
She looked about for the highest vantage point and began climbing it to see if she could see any observers nearby or something that was not obvious from ground level.
Acrobatics ( Tree climbing likely)- 18
Stealth- 24
Perception- 20
Off in the distance on the wagon side upriver, Amdaeng sees some movement. It blends in fairly well but when it moves again, maybe a small horse, some 500 feet away