In reply to DM (msg # 130):

"You do have a mess on YOUR hands, Mr. Mayor. Tell you what. My friends and I will go over and have some breakfast with Celador's uh, barmaid? What do I call her now? You and your men figure out how this necromancer escaped and where he may have gotten off to. We will put our heads together and see if we can solve the murder of Mr. Morris.

"I strongly suggest that you find someone expert in the ways of divination and majicks. Perhaps this hooded asshole had help from a caster of some sorts. I do believe, personally, that he had help from one of you lot."

Lazaret gives Tyus a long glare to see how he reacts. (15:58, Today: Lazaret rolled 8 using 1d20+3.  Insight - Tyus' reaction.)

To his friends, "Come. Let's get something to eat and discuss our next move here. We may have to look for a little bird that seemed to show up when we brought Hoodie back with us. I hope you have a straight arrow ready, Celador. You're a hell of a shot!"

Lazaret inspires Celador hoping that he won't miss the raven.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:59, Wed 10 Jan 2018.

"Why you little asshole," Traitlin barks. "What makes you think you can come in here and accuse us of helping him?"

OOC: Tyus isn't at the office yet, so you can't read his reaction.

The Goliath takes a step toward Lazaret, but the mayor steps in between them. "Calm down, Traitlin," he pleads. "He's entitled to his theory, just like we were entitled to ours. Hopefully his is as wrong as our initial one. We'll get nowhere fighting among ourselves.

"As for magic users, there are few in Westbank. Brother Walword is capable of detecting magic in a general sense. But if you need something specific, then we may have to send for crazy old Dav."

The party heads back upstairs and to the door just as Tyus, weary from his inventory exercise, appears. "I've been through that entire mess," he sighs. "Everything. And according to Enoch's book, we're missing a rapier, a hook and rope, a thin metal headband, and a pair of gloves."

"Then there was also a glass vial in the room that wasn't noted in the book... but after I was done, I couldn't find it any more."
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:32, Thu 11 Jan 2018.

Celador cracks a small smile at the exchage between the goliath and the tabaxi, -...the cat's ability to rub so many people the wrong way is impressive...- he thinks to himself.



"Yes Laz, let's leave the local authorities to do their business while we find something to eat, I am feeling a bit peckish," the elf says while heading toward the door.

Once they are outside the constable's office, Celador comments "did either of you catch the name of the merchant we met on our way back to town? He seemed to have a bone to pick with Merris. Speaking of picking a bone, I wonder what Mattis is up to?"

In reply to Celador Qiris (msg # 133):

"We never got his name. He could not have done the murder so far from town. He could have hired someone I suppose."

In reply to Lazaret (msg # 134):

As the crew heads back to the tavern, Thorfire looks for the damn raven.  Laz, if you see the raven, perhaps we should try to catch it.  It might be someone's familiar.

10:06, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 5 using 1d20+2, rerolling ones.  Perception. (Passive Perception 12)

He thinks he sees the statue
This message was last edited by the player at 16:08, Thu 11 Jan 2018.

"No, I didn't catch his name either. Had I know that a man would show up dead maybe I would have asked," Celador continues, "but if there was one person in town who would spit on the ground at the mention of Mr. Merris' name, there must be others. It's either that or head back on the road to find the necromancer, he's probably hiding in his cave with the other rats"

Just throwing out other options that haven't been brought up yet. I'm at a loss. Not much of a Hardy boy.

The party returns to the Trollip and Troll to review the day's findings. Tyus later stops by to inform them that the mayor has sent him to fetch Crazy Old Dav, a hermit who lives in a scraggly woods about a half day's ride to the west. "The mayor says Old Dav has a nose for magic, that he can tell if someone's been charmed or stuff like that. Can also identify items, but it's expensive. Anyway, I leave in the morning and expect to have the old codger back in town by nightfall."

The next morning, the heroes inquire about the old guard whom they met on their way back from the hooded man's cave a few days ago. Locals say his name is Woodward, and classify him as grumpy, but far from dangerous. OOC: it was a good idea thinking of him. Rather than lead you down that dead end, I'm going to say that you talked to enough people to convince yourself that Woodward is in no way associated with the murder or with Malik's escape.

In other developments:
1. A farmer from a mile up the northern road reported a horse and saddle stolen from him the night before last.

2. Gar Greyshield, the local blacksmith, is said to be "hotter than his own forge" regarding a certain suit of studded leather armor that was stolen from his shop. He claims Thorfire took it, but out of respect for Sam Fletcher (the bar owner) has refrained from charging into the Trollip and Troll demanding payment.

3. The raven continues to monitor Westbank from atop the statue of Staal Stronghammer. Upon seeing the heroes, he flies from his perch to the top of the chimney on the constable's office, cawing the whole time.

4. Bobbin stops by to check in on Cornelius.

5. Kathel buys a round for the table as a thanks for their assistance yesterday

6. The mayor also stops in, looking more stressed than usual, and asks the party to join him at the office in the morning. While hopeful that Crazy Old Dav may be able to discover something not yet known, he would like the investigative help of the heroes, as well.

OOC: Characters are free to do whatever they'd like today. If I don't hear from anyone, we can fast forward to the next morning.

This message was last edited by the GM at 07:41, Fri 12 Jan 2018.

In reply to DM (msg # 137):

Luckily we have a fast forward button.  --->

In reply to Thorfire Shortankard (msg # 138):

Lazaret casts invisibility on himself and climbs up to catch the raven. "There's more to this damn bird than meets the eye."

Lazaret sneaks unseen from the Trollip and Troll to the park and the statue. Unseen, that is, to everyone but the mysterious raven. The bird stares directly at the tabaxi as soon as he steps into the park. He caws cautiously at first, flaps his wings a few times while still perched on Staal Stronghammer's stone head, then finally takes flight before Lazaret gets too close. He flies directly to the chimney on the constable's office and caws repeatedly from there, always three times, followed by a pause, followed by another three caws, all the while staring at Lazaret.

The caws aren't threatening, but seem to be made with a certain sense of urgency (DC: 15 animal handling will tell you more).

When the party arrives at the office the next morning, it is already occupied by the mayor (standing with arms folded), Enoch (sniveling at his desk and shuffling papers), and Traitlin (leaning against the wall). After a few minutes of greeting and small talk, Tyus arrives with a strange halfling in tow, shuffling behind him and muttering quietly to himself as they enter.

The halfling stands about 3 feet tall. His face is wrinkled and dominated by a massive, crooked, mushroom of a nose and a pair of mismatched eyes. One brown, which seems to look at where his nose is pointing, and one blue, which seems to dart around uncontrollably. His hair is thick, silver, and curled. He wears tattered clothing that includes an ill fitting red cape and several mismatched small pouches on his belt. There is no doubt this must be Crazy Old Dav.

Working with Dav proves to be a bit of a task for the mayor. The mysterious halfling first demands breakfast, which Tyus delivers from the Trollip and Troll. Dav devours the food, then falls asleep and it takes Traitlin a good five minutes of shaking to wake him. After a brief negotiation about lunch, the halfling finally agrees to get to work.

At the mayor's request, everyone descends into the dungeon. The mayor inquires with Dav about seeing if there are any remnants of magic anywhere in the room, including people.

Dav closes his eyes, bows his head, and begins to mumble some words, waving his arms in a wizardly fashion. From time to time, his crazy blue eye opens and darts around the room. After a minute, his head rises and he looks around the room.

He first approaches Enoch and grabs him by the hands. "Hmmmmm," he mumbles. "N-no. No ma-magic this guy. No ch-ch-charmed. N-no been ch-charmed."

He then moves to Traitlin and repeats the analysis. "Ooooo, b-big and t-t-tall. But no ma-m-magic. No magic no charmed."

To Tyus. "No magic no ch-charm."

When he gets to the mayor, he holds his hand and then looks very closely at his ring. "Yes, Dav," the mayor concedes. "You are correct. This ring was a gift from the elves. It is magic, although I'd appreciate if that stay between just the lot of us down here."

Dav gives the mayor a long look with his good eye. "No ch-charm. No been charmed."

One by one, the crazy-eyed halfling passes by each character in the dungeon and declares each one to have not been charmed. He does, however, successfully identify Celador's magic arrows, the potion of water breathing, and the gem of elemental control (to which he gives a coo of excitement). In an interesting moment, he pulls Cornelius from Lazaret's backpack, admires it for several seconds, but finally concludes "No ch-charmed. No m-m-magic."

Finally, just as the mayor is starting to usher everyone back up the stairs, the old halfling stops, walks backward down the hall to the space between cells three and four, and closes his eyes. He crouches down and picks up a tiny fragment from the ground. A piece of glass. "Is magic." He announces. With eyes open and crazy blue eye darting faster than ever, he examines the floor and picks up another tiny fragment of glass. "Is magic."

Dav repeats this process about 25 times, each time picking up a tiny piece of shattered glass and saying "Is magic."
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:50, Sat 13 Jan 2018.

In reply to DM (msg # 140):

"What are you trying to tell me, you creepy thing? I'll follow you."

Lazaret follows the raven to the chimney to see what it is trying to tell him.

07:39, Today: Lazaret rolled 18 using 1d20+3.  Animal Handling.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:40, Sat 13 Jan 2018.

The raven flaps its wings eagerly as the invisible Lazaret approaches. Once on the roof, the raven repeats his call, cawing three times, but this time moving his head demonstratively with each squawk. He moves his beak from the chimney to the sky on the first caw, then from the sky back to the inside of the chimney on the second caw, and finally from chimney to sky again on the third caw. He repeats this process several times.

Lazaret concludes that the raven is "speaking" to him with slightly different tones from one squawk to the next, but the tabaxi is not sufficiently fluent in raven to deduce exactly what the subtle differences mean. If only there was someone who could translate his squawks and caws.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:45, Mon 15 Jan 2018.

In reply to DM (msg # 143):

Lazaret hustles down to find the others.

"We need to find Mrawk. No time to explain!"

Lazaret hustles out hoping that the other will follow. He races out of town to search for his Kenku friend.

In reply to DM (msg # 141):

Thorfire asks the crazy old bat, You say the glass shards are magical, does it look like they came from some sort of potion vial?

The hooded man presumably escaped by climbing up the chimney, do you detect any magic up there or in the cell with the crates and barrels?
This message was last edited by the player at 18:36, Mon 15 Jan 2018.

The crazy halfling mumbles to himself for a few moments. "G-glass is m-m-m-m-magic." He pauses and hums quietly to himself. "Po-po-potion?" A smile slowly creeps across his face. "Y-y-y-es! P-potion is m-magic. Is ma-m-maaaaagic potion!"

In response to Thorfire's next question, Crazy Old Dav, with great effort, climbs atop a barrel, slowly gets to his feet, then stares up into the chimney. He sways back and forth, humming to himself while pointing at various spots along its inside. "N-n-nothing up there ma-ma-magic. Nooooo m-magic."

The tabaxi's entrance is as surprising as his exit.

"What?" the mayor asks while staring to the others for an explanation.
"No idea." Tyus responds, rushing after Lazaret out the door.
"Who the hell is Mrawk?" Traitlin asks.
Enoch looks up from his desk long enough to observe the feline thorn in his side, grumbles, then buries his nose back in the day's paperwork.

Still standing on the barrel, Crazy Old Dav hums a few bars to himself then adds his own analysis. "That c-c-cat is c-c-craaaazyyyyy!"

I am confused, has Lazaret created a rift in the space time continuum? Are we at risk of future Lazaret running into a past version of himself? The question of course is, if he does, will he insult him and pronounce his name wrong?

OOC: I exercised a little artistic license: Celador and Thorfire joined the mayor and guards in the morning while Lazaret took a little detour on the roof. Tyus arrived shortly after Celador and Thorfire, bringing the crazy old halfling wizard with him. As that conversation happened, Lazaret completed his own conversation with the bird on the roof and then barged in on everyone else.

As a side note, the ramifications of a meeting between future and past Lazarets is scary to say the least. I mean, if there were actually two of him, what chance would the rest of us have to get a word in?

In reply to DM (msg # 148):

Maybe he would sing himself to sleep with a gay Tabaxi lulliby!

Lazaret rushes out the door with Tyus close behind. As the tabaxi scans the area for signs of the raven man, Tyus also looks, but with a lack of certainty. "Who exactly is Mrawk?"

In time, the mayor, the goliath, and eventually even the crazy old halfling join the group on the road in front of the constable's office. "What on earth is this all about?" the mayor inquires. "Who is Mrawk and what does he have to do with anything?"

Skill challange to find Mrawk!
This is a DC 20 survival or perception roll made by whomever you choose.
All other characters can add to main roll as follows.
   +1 for a perception/survival roll of 10 or higher.
   +2 for a perception/survival roll of 15 or higher.
   +3 for a perception/survival roll of 20 or higher.

You can also try to persuade each of the guards to help (allowing each to apply their own bonus as described above to the main roll).
   Tyus will assist on a persuasion roll of 5 or better.
   Traitlin will assist on a persuasion roll of 10 or better.
   The mayor will assist on a persuasion roll of 10 or better.
   Enoch will assist on a persuasion roll of 20 or better.

Finally, there are 5 roads leading out of Westbank (N, E, S, W, and NW). If you choose the correct road, you gain another +3. Wrong road? -3.

In reply to Taylin Naar (msg # 151):

"There he is!"

17:49, Today: Lazaret rolled 26 using 1d20+6.  Perception - Finding Mrawk.

It has been some time since they've seen him, but Lazaret spots the party's mysterious raven man perched in one of the trees across the street from the office, munching on a crust of bread. He peeks out from behind the trunk of the tree, and recognizing the tabaxi as a friend,  climbs down with a "mrawk" of excitement, although he eyes the guards with a bit of hesitation.

Meanwhile, the guards, the mayor, and the crazy old halfling exchange confused glances.
"Who is that?" the mayor inquires.
"That must be Mrawk," Traitlin concludes.
"I thought Kenku were just fairy tales," Tyus admits.
"M-m-maaaaaaagic po-po-potion," Crazy Old Dav adds, starting at the handful of glass pieces he picked up in the dungeon below.

In reply to DM (msg # 153):

"We need your help, friend. The man we captured has escaped. I don't suppose you have seen him? Of course not. Anyway, there is a raven here who knows something. He is trying to tell me something but being a Tabaxi I can't understand a word he says. You can though! Right? Let's go find him and you can translate. I'm sure you can talk a little. Just a little?"

Lazaret hustles Mrawk over to where the raven is resting and makes very bizarre introductions.

Mrawk gives his raven head a curious tilt as Lazaret explains the task at hand, but nods in what the tabaxi hopes is comprehension. He follows to the office and deftly climbs onto the roof after Lazaret. Tyus follows them as well, not as deftly, but eventually, to observe the latest twist in his investigation.

"Where in the name of Pelor's golden beard are they going now?" the mayor inquires, wandering with Traitlin and the halfling wizard to the side of the building.

The mysterious raven is still perched atop the chimney, cawing repeatedly.
"Is that blackwing?" Tyus questions while carefully climbing onto the rooftop and rising from his knees to his feet. "Wonder what he's doing up here. He usually sits on the statue in the park."

Mrawk approaches the bird, listens, then squawks in return.

The raven caws again, this time in the three-cawed triplet that Lazaret recognized before.
Mrawk nods and caws himself. This goes on back and forth for the better part of a minute before the raven gives a final definitive caw while flapping his wings.

After this, Mrawk turns to Lazaret and looks him in the eye. He points into the chimney and then draws his hand out of it in sweeping arc that ends with him pointing at the rooftop next to the chimney. Then he tiptoes away from the chimney, looking suspiciously over his shoulder as he does.

Before anyone can say anything he waves his hands and caws sharply, then tiptoes suspiciously back toward the chimney, raises his knee over the top of it as if climbing in, then points back into the chimney.

Mrawk points at the sun, then points due east and traces an arc across the sky overhead ending  due west. Finally, he points into the chimney again, then draws his hand out of it in the same sweeping arc he used before, pointing at the rooftop and then tiptoeing away while looking over his shoulder.

After two or three suspicious tiptoe steps, he caws, spins, puts his hands on his hips, and nods to Lazaret.

"I'm not sure I caught all that," Tyus admits. "Did you?"