Karl wakes up early, struck by inspiration. He spends an hour tinkering with his crossbow and armor, greasing bits that need to move and fastening bits that shouldn't, all the while weaving arcane magic into his superficially mundane work. Yetis and serial killers - he was going to need to be prepared. If only I could make my armor retain heat better. Holding up the scale mail he spends a few moments pondering what kind of enchantment he could formulate for that effect. Nazcal might be helpful. I wonder if they have a cousin they don't like.
Still, he is one of the first ones up, a little sore from the day before and groggy from his early morning. He's chewing on a particularly tough chunk of jerky while waiting for the others.
"Seems we can get back to snipe hunting or play detective," he will open with, broaching the topics as soon as the others join him.
Matthias rises and opens his journal, scribbling without thinking, words and symbols of uncertain meaning seeming to appear on the page. After several minutes, he pauses, realizing his breathing is heavy, his heart racing. His eyes scan the page and he gasps as newfound patterns suddenly appear. Somewhere inside him, a dark fire seems to burn hotter for a moment, and he finds himself chuckling in a deep, alien laugh as this sudden knowledge seeps into his mind and soul.
He slaps the book shut, thrusts it into his pack and bolts up, rapidly pulling his leathers and cold weather gear on. He trudges out of his room to meet the others, in time to catch Karl's words. "I think we should pursue the investigation," he says. "We can keep looking for chingas at the same time--and to solve these crimes would put us in good grace with the sheriff and likely everyone else in this town" And there was a part of him that just wanted to a "good deed" in order to keep himself at least somewhat sane...
Ssej wakes up early uncurling himself from underneath the covers and then does his daily stretches, working out the kinks from the bitter cold. He then will join the others downstairs for breakfast.
"I am good to go with either prosspect. It ssoundss like we will not find any Chwing'ss in town and if we do ssolve the invesstigation it might prove lucrative. Alsso if we sstay in town we have eassy accessss to food and more importantly, warmth." Ssej mentions. "One other thing to note, the next lottery sshould not be for another month sso we do have ssome time to hunt the little thingss."
Auraani had booked a room first thing when they had got back to town. She had unstrung her bow and checked the string over carefully before disrobing and washing herself with a damp cloth and a pitcher of water she had requested. After wrapping a simple robe around herself, she sat on the bed and meditated part of the night thinking about her day and her fellow adventurers.
The fight hadn't been tough, but it had been exciting compared to the last century of her life living among her friends and family. She didn't have much experience with other races, but she found working side by side with these interesting folk a welcome change in her life.
She was up early, checking her gear and weapons, putting on her armor and restringing her bow in case it was needed again. She was in the common room having some breakfast when the others started filtering in. When they start discussing plans for the day she listens closely, wanting to be involved. "Do we want to find out more about these murders taking place on lottery night?"
Nazcan nods in Auraani's direction "Yes, I would like to know more about these lotteries. These sacrifices are helping no one, and I doubt that Auril person has anything to do with this cold!" He may have spoken a little too loudly.
Matthias considers their next steps. "We may want to revisit the sheriff and ask for more details on these killings. There have to be more clues than what we've heard thus far, more specifics about the bodies, that sort of thing."
“You adventurers could be a real boon to this town if you could help me solve this. It’s got everyone on edge, at a time when we don’t need any more of that than there already is.
“The latest victim has been identified as Regald Brightcloud. He was discovered by his son just hours, maybe only 1 hour, after the attack. Regald was the owner of Brightcloud Cakes, probably the biggest bakery in town. You’ll find it if you head down the main road to the South End.
“I spoke with his son Dainald yesterday but I think he was still in shock. He couldn’t tell me much. Maybe he’s calmed down a bit and can give you some more details. I’ve got other matters that I’ve for my time, unfortunately. I’m sure you’ll find Dainald at the bakery.”
Matthias thanks the sheriff for the additional information--and the lucrative reward that is offered. He looks to the others. "So, it appears we should head to this bakery, Brightcloud Cakes. What say you all?"
Auraani nods to Ssej, "This woman Helena told me her friend's husband Grimmet works at the Three Badgers Tavern in South End, and apparently he hears almost everything that goes on around the town. Should we go visit him?"
"We sshould head to the bakery firsst and gather what information we can and then go vissit this Grimmet persson to ssee what he hass to ssay." Ssej states as he makes for the door to leave.
You head to the South End and find Cloudburst Cakes easily enough. Dainald is manning the shop inside. It’s much larger than the other bakery you visited, with more customers, and the fishy smell is somehow more appetizing.
Dainald greets you and explains,
“My grandfather married a beautiful elven lady, and she helped him invent a recipe for fish pie that is actually delicious. Our recipe is the best in Ten-Towns, and everyone knows it. That’s why we’ve been so successful.”
looking around, you see the bakery does, indeed, appear to be successful.
Karl wrinkles his nose inside the bakery. 'Delicious' fish pie was still. . . fish pie. He takes the bloodstone he received as payment earlier, focuses briefly on it - thinks on the nature of what it is and what he would like to be, and holds it in a clenched fist below his nose - the smell of fresh coffee beans filling his senses for a few minutes.
"Yeah, your grandfather had it nice. What about your pa though? Heard he met someone a lot less nice."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Another medical problem. Indefinite hiatus. Sorry, all.
Karl wrinkles his nose inside the bakery. 'Delicious' fish pie was still. . . fish pie. He takes the bloodstone he received as payment earlier, focuses briefly on it - thinks on the nature of what it is and what he would like to be, and holds it in a clenched fist below his nose - the smell of fresh coffee beans filling his senses for a few minutes.
"Yeah, your grandfather had it nice. What about your pa though? Heard he met someone a lot less nice."
(Was coffee even a thing at this time?)
Nazcan does not like fish, not even the smell of it, even though it does smell appetizing, he still finds the smell of the pie gross. But he keeps that to himself. "Do you have any information about your grandfather? Also, what else do you have here?" He takes out a platinum piece, waving it slightly in his hand
Dainald has cakes made of flour, eggs, and honey. He has other pies filled with potatoes or reindeer meet.
His cheerful demeanor falls easily at the mention of his father. “My dad was the latest victim of the Lottery killer. Now it’s fallen to me to run the family business. If you want pies, I can help you. But if you’ve come to gawk, I’d appreciate it if you left.”
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Matthias's face goes sad at the mention of the loss of his father. "I understand," he says. "I too have lost my father not so long ago. It is a hard time. I am sure he would be proud of you carrying on the family business." There is real sadness in Matthias's voice as he speaks.
"My colleagues and I are working with the authorities to find this killer. Is there anything you can tell us about what happened? Anything or anyone strange that had entered your father's life shortly before the...the loss of your father?"
Dainald stands quietly, eyes downcast. After a moment he says,
“I already spoke to the sheriff, but there’s something I didn’t tell him. I was worried about the legal ramifications, but the more I think about it, I need to get it off my chest and maybe it will help catch the killer.”
He ushers you to a back room in the shop, past a warm room where ovens are stoked and baking new pies, into a small office. His hands linger over a ledgerbook sitting on his desk.
“I’ve been helping my dad with the business for awhile now, of course. Recently I found something in the bookkeeping that didn’t add up, a discrepancy with the money. When I confronted him about it, he confessed that he had been bribing an official at the Council Hall to keep our names out of the Lottery. He said it was for the best, our business is good for Bryn Shander, we can do more good here alive, baking, than we can dead. Those were his rationalizations. A fat lot of good it did him, in the end. I didn’t tell the sheriff, but the more I think about it, the more I feel it might be relevant. I hope you won’t spread that news around? My father’s mistakes are his own, and it seems he’s paid for them. Cloudburst Cakes is an honest business!”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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You’ve all had a long rest and it’s a new “day”, what do you want to do today?
Karl wakes up early, struck by inspiration. He spends an hour tinkering with his crossbow and armor, greasing bits that need to move and fastening bits that shouldn't, all the while weaving arcane magic into his superficially mundane work. Yetis and serial killers - he was going to need to be prepared. If only I could make my armor retain heat better. Holding up the scale mail he spends a few moments pondering what kind of enchantment he could formulate for that effect. Nazcal might be helpful. I wonder if they have a cousin they don't like.
Still, he is one of the first ones up, a little sore from the day before and groggy from his early morning. He's chewing on a particularly tough chunk of jerky while waiting for the others.
"Seems we can get back to snipe hunting or play detective," he will open with, broaching the topics as soon as the others join him.
Another medical problem. Indefinite hiatus. Sorry, all.
Matthias rises and opens his journal, scribbling without thinking, words and symbols of uncertain meaning seeming to appear on the page. After several minutes, he pauses, realizing his breathing is heavy, his heart racing. His eyes scan the page and he gasps as newfound patterns suddenly appear. Somewhere inside him, a dark fire seems to burn hotter for a moment, and he finds himself chuckling in a deep, alien laugh as this sudden knowledge seeps into his mind and soul.
He slaps the book shut, thrusts it into his pack and bolts up, rapidly pulling his leathers and cold weather gear on. He trudges out of his room to meet the others, in time to catch Karl's words. "I think we should pursue the investigation," he says. "We can keep looking for chingas at the same time--and to solve these crimes would put us in good grace with the sheriff and likely everyone else in this town" And there was a part of him that just wanted to a "good deed" in order to keep himself at least somewhat sane...
Ssej wakes up early uncurling himself from underneath the covers and then does his daily stretches, working out the kinks from the bitter cold. He then will join the others downstairs for breakfast.
"I am good to go with either prosspect. It ssoundss like we will not find any Chwing'ss in town and if we do ssolve the invesstigation it might prove lucrative. Alsso if we sstay in town we have eassy accessss to food and more importantly, warmth." Ssej mentions. "One other thing to note, the next lottery sshould not be for another month sso we do have ssome time to hunt the little thingss."
Auraani had booked a room first thing when they had got back to town. She had unstrung her bow and checked the string over carefully before disrobing and washing herself with a damp cloth and a pitcher of water she had requested. After wrapping a simple robe around herself, she sat on the bed and meditated part of the night thinking about her day and her fellow adventurers.
The fight hadn't been tough, but it had been exciting compared to the last century of her life living among her friends and family. She didn't have much experience with other races, but she found working side by side with these interesting folk a welcome change in her life.
She was up early, checking her gear and weapons, putting on her armor and restringing her bow in case it was needed again. She was in the common room having some breakfast when the others started filtering in. When they start discussing plans for the day she listens closely, wanting to be involved. "Do we want to find out more about these murders taking place on lottery night?"
Nazcan nods in Auraani's direction "Yes, I would like to know more about these lotteries. These sacrifices are helping no one, and I doubt that Auril person has anything to do with this cold!" He may have spoken a little too loudly.
Just lemme know how the PC's want to proceed
[OOC: forgive me if I guess the wrong player who mentioned this info.]
"Auraani, did you mention a contact to the ssouth that hass more information on the murderss?" Ssej asks.
Matthias considers their next steps. "We may want to revisit the sheriff and ask for more details on these killings. There have to be more clues than what we've heard thus far, more specifics about the bodies, that sort of thing."
The sheriff is happy to tell you what he knows.
“You adventurers could be a real boon to this town if you could help me solve this. It’s got everyone on edge, at a time when we don’t need any more of that than there already is.
“The latest victim has been identified as Regald Brightcloud. He was discovered by his son just hours, maybe only 1 hour, after the attack. Regald was the owner of Brightcloud Cakes, probably the biggest bakery in town. You’ll find it if you head down the main road to the South End.
“I spoke with his son Dainald yesterday but I think he was still in shock. He couldn’t tell me much. Maybe he’s calmed down a bit and can give you some more details. I’ve got other matters that I’ve for my time, unfortunately. I’m sure you’ll find Dainald at the bakery.”
The sheriff also offers a reward: 200 gold if the perpetrator is brought in alive with proof, 100 dead with proof
Matthias thanks the sheriff for the additional information--and the lucrative reward that is offered. He looks to the others. "So, it appears we should head to this bakery, Brightcloud Cakes. What say you all?"
Auraani nods to Ssej, "This woman Helena told me her friend's husband Grimmet works at the Three Badgers Tavern in South End, and apparently he hears almost everything that goes on around the town. Should we go visit him?"
"We sshould head to the bakery firsst and gather what information we can and then go vissit this Grimmet persson to ssee what he hass to ssay." Ssej states as he makes for the door to leave.
You head to the South End and find Cloudburst Cakes easily enough. Dainald is manning the shop inside. It’s much larger than the other bakery you visited, with more customers, and the fishy smell is somehow more appetizing.
Dainald greets you and explains,
“My grandfather married a beautiful elven lady, and she helped him invent a recipe for fish pie that is actually delicious. Our recipe is the best in Ten-Towns, and everyone knows it. That’s why we’ve been so successful.”
looking around, you see the bakery does, indeed, appear to be successful.
Karl wrinkles his nose inside the bakery. 'Delicious' fish pie was still. . . fish pie. He takes the bloodstone he received as payment earlier, focuses briefly on it - thinks on the nature of what it is and what he would like to be, and holds it in a clenched fist below his nose - the smell of fresh coffee beans filling his senses for a few minutes.
"Yeah, your grandfather had it nice. What about your pa though? Heard he met someone a lot less nice."
Another medical problem. Indefinite hiatus. Sorry, all.
(Was coffee even a thing at this time?)
Nazcan does not like fish, not even the smell of it, even though it does smell appetizing, he still finds the smell of the pie gross. But he keeps that to himself. "Do you have any information about your grandfather? Also, what else do you have here?" He takes out a platinum piece, waving it slightly in his hand
Dainald has cakes made of flour, eggs, and honey. He has other pies filled with potatoes or reindeer meet.
His cheerful demeanor falls easily at the mention of his father. “My dad was the latest victim of the Lottery killer. Now it’s fallen to me to run the family business. If you want pies, I can help you. But if you’ve come to gawk, I’d appreciate it if you left.”
Matthias's face goes sad at the mention of the loss of his father. "I understand," he says. "I too have lost my father not so long ago. It is a hard time. I am sure he would be proud of you carrying on the family business." There is real sadness in Matthias's voice as he speaks.
"My colleagues and I are working with the authorities to find this killer. Is there anything you can tell us about what happened? Anything or anyone strange that had entered your father's life shortly before the...the loss of your father?"
Persuasion 25
Dainald stands quietly, eyes downcast. After a moment he says,
“I already spoke to the sheriff, but there’s something I didn’t tell him. I was worried about the legal ramifications, but the more I think about it, I need to get it off my chest and maybe it will help catch the killer.”
He ushers you to a back room in the shop, past a warm room where ovens are stoked and baking new pies, into a small office. His hands linger over a ledgerbook sitting on his desk.
“I’ve been helping my dad with the business for awhile now, of course. Recently I found something in the bookkeeping that didn’t add up, a discrepancy with the money. When I confronted him about it, he confessed that he had been bribing an official at the Council Hall to keep our names out of the Lottery. He said it was for the best, our business is good for Bryn Shander, we can do more good here alive, baking, than we can dead. Those were his rationalizations. A fat lot of good it did him, in the end. I didn’t tell the sheriff, but the more I think about it, the more I feel it might be relevant. I hope you won’t spread that news around? My father’s mistakes are his own, and it seems he’s paid for them. Cloudburst Cakes is an honest business!”