(Sorry about the delay y'all! Let's get this back underway :) )

Celianna moves to join her friends and sheathes her weapon just as about a half-dozen Zhelezo city guards clatter their way into the tavern, led by a older human wearing a sky-blue uniform. He has unruly brown hair that is rapidly being overtaken by gray, a big, bushy mustache that is waxed at the points, and a patch over one of his eyes. The other eye,  big and brown, peers at each of you curiously.

His officers already have the human sailor in custody and as soon as the half-orc sees the guards, he immediately drops his club and points an accusatory finger at Wilkas. "It was 'im, your 'onor! We wuz just trying to borrow some books from these gentlemen when 'e cast some spell on poor ol' Marton over there. I swears on me mum's grave, I do!"

The officer chuckles. "Why, of course, Henk! You and your buddies here are true renaissance men. I'm shocked I'd find y'all here at a tavern when I know you spend your time mostly at the library. Why Marton there was a regular Percival de Rolo, right?" He speaks in a strange, down-home accent you can't quite place. "Grab him, boys."

Two guards move to the half-orc and seize him, and the officer's attention turns towards you. "Just hang tight folks, if you don't mind. I reckon I have a pretty good hunch what happened here, but I got to be thorough, you understand? Good." He flashes a brief smile and then moves on, slowly, deliberating chatting with the patrons who hadn't fled the bar when the fight started.

After what feels like an eternity, he comes back to your group. He plops down into and strokes the ends of his mustache, looking at each of you in the eye a moment before speaking. "I find myself in a bit of a sitch-e-ation, y'all. Everyone agrees that that braintrust came in looking for a fight, but I also got a lot of reports y'all threw the first spell. What with the hand of death, and cold fire breath, and whatever the hell you did," he points to WIlkas, "well, one of them is dead, and most of y'all look like you're pretty alright. Can ya give me something, anything that lets me not take y'all in?"

Wilkas sits down calmly and very blatantly states his side of events.  His words read blunt, factual, a tone of righteousness.  

“Suppose if you would, if you were on patrol and you happen to see burglars on their way to break in to a building....  would you wait for them to break in, hurt whoever and break whatever they want before apprehending them.  Or rather cut them off, hoping to save the civilized folk inside from the horror that awaits?  These thugs strolled up with a purpose to extort us of everything we had.... by force.  From your familiarity with them, I suspect this isn’t the first time they’ve tried to strong arm others.  My first spell acted as I intended.  Forcing the leader to move away from us... hoping to dissolve the situation.  It was a warning, a warning that fell on deaf ears.  Like the cancer that he was to society, I deemed it prudent to eradicate him.... in hopes of saving the lives around him.  I myself was close to dying in the process, only to survive because of these fine folks.  If it’s necessary to arrest someone, that responsibility falls on me.  Though I do hope, you can see the practicality of my actions.”

Persuasion: 16

Dustyn bites back a sarcastic retort.

”I’m pretty sure he shot that crossbow first.”

deception 19

(not sure if I’m still drunk, so a second roll 13 )

(oh wtf dice, why???)

"If a wolf is rabid you put it down before it can spread its disease."  Michael says with a shrug.  "Will you arrest people for defending themselves against one you yourself know to be rabid?" 

The Zhelezo officer looks at Dustyn and says "I'm going to put that down to whatever that is I smell wafting off of you, son. Hell, I'm surprised y'all can even stand."

He now turns to Michael and nods, bobbing his head vigorously at the artificer's point. "I do see your point, sir, but we know we these fellas, don't we, boys? And they aren't wolves. At best, they're dogs. SMALL dogs. And I don't know y'all. And from where I'm sitting, your teeth are bigger than their teeth."

He stands up from the table now. "Come on now, we'll sort this out at the Zhelezo offices. There's still a chance this will be resolved without you getting in much trouble, but I'm going to trust y'all to cooperate. Pietro, Cuffs, you know what to do."

A Kenku and another human appear on either side of you. "Please to put these on. No trouble, or we get nasty." The Kenku says, holding up sets of manacles for each of you.

Dustyn doesn’t fight the cuffs.

Wilkas doesn’t resist.

"Do you know Captain Bree Thorntassle?"  Michael asks as he looks at the restraints.  "I would highly suggest you send someone to speak with her before you continue with this."  He meets the leader of the guard's eyes.  "Yes our teeth are a bit bigger than the pups that tried to attack us, but there is a reason for that."

Donaar was quite abashed by the whole situation. The thugs were the ones who had started all this but he's smart enough not to resist.

"Sir, I'm sorry but it was self defence, they threatened to hurt us or worse should we not give them our gold and books. And you said it yourself. Books would be wasted on this lot. And the only reason I'm standing straight is because my companion was benevolent enough to use one of her rare spells to heal my wounds or I might have joined that other poor fellow. Really, our hands were forced."

The one good eye that the Zhelezo officer has widens as Michael mentions Captain Thorntassle. He steps back and studies you all a bit more closely.

"That's quite a name to drop there, friend. I hope y'all know what you're doing. Cuffs!"

The short kenku comes over to the officer's side "Yes, Inspector Lemieux?" She says, in a very passable imitation of the officer's peculiar accent.

Inspector Lemieux speaks slowly and carefully to the kenku and its clear the corvid is taking in the exact words he's saying. "Bree, I got a group of adventuring types here at the Scholar's Rest who say they're connected to you. Picked 'em up in a bar brawl. Do y'all know anything about this?" Patting Cuffs on the shoulder, he sends her away.

He waves over to the bartender, and looking at the broken mirror, makes a sympathetic sound, and asks for a cider. "Now we wait. I trust y'all acted in self-defense, but rules are rules, fella. The Marquis would normally make that determination himself. But y'all had to go and bring Captain Thorntassle into it." He doesn't sound like the biggest fan of the halfling administrator but doesn't say anything to you while you wait, instead, he sips his cider and talks quietly to the guards with him.

After a few minutes, Cuffs reappears. Walking over directly to the inspector, she opens her beak and a flawless impersonation of Captain Thorntassle issues forth.

"These people report to me, Lemieux. Whatever you perceived them to be doing, they were acting under my authority. Release them,into my custody, if you must, but they are not to be detained any longer." Turning to you, the kenku adds "The lot of you need to see me. Immediately."

Inspector Lemieux looks mystified by this turn of events. "Well, hell." He scratches his head. "I have no idea what just happened, but I'm not about to cross that woman. Release them."

After the manacles are taken off of your wrists, Lemieux waves you away. "Y'all go on your way. Seems like your benefactor is waiting on ya. And if I was you, I would be verry careful on how you are around that woman. She'd sell her own grandma to get ahead in this town. Like most on the Menagerie Coast, I reckon."

"Are any of you from this gods-cursed city?"  Michael asks the others as soon as they are outside.  "If so, let's go to your home prior to going to meet our patron."

Dr. Quiem stays functionally silent during the exchange with the guards, simply muttering to himself when the cuffs are placed on him. He visibly fidgets at Michael's question. "I suppose you all seem harmless," He peers at his companions, "We can regroup at my house. But if I find any of you snooping," He pointedly makes eye contact with the group, "it's going to mean trouble."

The journey to Dr. Quiem's home is a quick one, as he lives in an area of the Hammer Sphere where many of the Academy's professors live. The area is very tasteful and almost picturesque in comparison to the rest of Port Zoon, which seems to be dominated by industrial buildings. Here, the neighborhood is almost all big, expansive townhouses along leafy tree-lined streets. For those of you unfamiliar with Port Zoon -- this area clearly impresses you as a place of great wealth, and also, likely, genteel manners.

Then, you arrive at Dr. Quiem's home. (@rilem, if you would do the honors of describing Dr. Quiem's house?)

Dustyn makes a gesture across his heart. “And hope to die.”

Wilkas just nods while adjusting his glasses “very well.”

Dr. Quiem rattles in his pockets until he finds his house key, and the door opens into what may have once been a lovely home, but now can really only be described as a mess. The books outnumber the furniture ten to one, and they seem to provide as much storage space as they take. Balanced precariously on stacks of textbooks are whirring gadgets and glowing enchantments, remnants of abandoned experiments. Papers cover every available surface, with piles of loose-leaf pages stacked on chairs, and larger sheets pinned onto the walls and ceiling. Covering the pages are methodical drawings, elaborate looking equations, and illegible scribbles. Whether the writing is illegible due to the chicken-scratch hand it's written in or whether the language it's in is known only to the doctor is a mystery.

Quiem tutters around the entryway, shuffling papers and tucking some out of view of the party. He steps fully inside and twitches, "Come in, come in. Eh- welcome. Feel free to take," Quiem looks around, appearing lost in his own house, "Eh, the living room." He points to a room and, now that he mentions it, it could almost pass as what it was, "Just move the books off those chairs. 'Fraid I don't have much in the way of refreshments, haha! But, this'll get us some peace..." Quiem himself doesn't sit, but elects to stand near a paper-strewn couch and wring his hands. 

Coming inside, Michael nods as he looks aorund.  It was about whe he had been expecting.

"Before anyone else bothers us..." Michael says. He pulls the box full of coins from his pack and plunks it down, then nods to the person with the journal.  "We found this box of coins, and a journal, that was coded, in the man's sleeping area."

Dustyn plops onto a pile of books.

”We found out that our dwarf was scared, and likely runnin’. So not much, although we’re sort of assuming this Captain what hired us might be a jilted lover. Real concrete stuff. So let’s learn your stuff.”

Wilkas stands in the room without touching anything.  “I’ll stand, thank you...” after waiting a moment he follows up saying “You failed to mention we deciphered said code.”

Dr. Quiem steps forward, "Well? What'd it say?"