This enormous tent is dwarfed only by the big top itself. The southern side has no wall, just a tall curtain pulled across its front. A sign posted outside advertises that this area has been set aside for meeting the sphinx at limited times throughout the day. Just inside is a large metal cage with no floor and bars running across the top. A single large door is set on the north corner of the west face, secured by a heavy lock. Strewn about the grass beneath the cage are silk sheets and piles of cushions and satin pillows.

In front of the cage is the body of a man, definitely a townsfolk given the way he was dressed. The man looks surprised and has large bite marks across his arm and chest. His body seems bloated and grayish.

In the mud and grass one can see large footprints leading out towards the back of the tent in the direction where the sphinx's home wagon is situated.

[5 blank lines suppressed]

Standing around is a big beefy looking thug who could only be Venlok as well as another pair of guards keeping visitors away and patrolling around the area.

Amara carefully considered the scene as she waved lazily to Venlok and security, assuming Torgan's presence would be notice enough they where working to solve the murder for Almara. She tilted her head this way and that, sighing.

"God, I just got here and already I can smell its a set up for the carnival. Whatever made those big scary paw prints would be a lot deeper from a creature with paws that size and they stop as soon as they leave the tent. Plus someones removed the stakes in the back to sneak in under the tent."

Amara casually motioned first to the prints, then to the back of the tent where there was a large gap in the stakes that was out of place with a second or third glance.

"At least I know I'm helping figure this out for someone whose likely innocent. Hey big guy, any chance we know anything about the body? Who he is, and the like?"

Karella saw the tracks as well. "You've got good eyes, Amara. Yes, I see them too. These tracks could not have come from the sphinx as they appear too shallow." She followed the tracks, <blue>"But the strangest thing is that the tracks disappear as soon as they leave the tent. Where could the creature have gone?" She looked to the sky.

Ryn was a bit distracted at the large beefy man as they walked up to the tent that was large but not quite as big as the big top. But then he began to immediately examine the dead man and the area around it. He looked up as the two Elven women began to talk about their findings. "Hmm? What?" He blinked and looked around. "Ah. I see. Yes. No doubt made to appear as if only a flying creature, or one who could teleport, could have committed this crime. Yes. Somewhat crudely clever."

The bloating and grayishness of the body were strange. He looked at Venlok. "How long has this man been dead? Or at least how long since he was found dead? The coloration and bloating seem...odd to me if he hasn't been dead long. Poison, perhaps?"

"I don't know anything about magic, but I know there are techniques and ways to make false foot prints. My first thought is a fake foot pressed into the ground, but again, that's only a mundane option. If true it means this had a lot of planning put into it though."

Amara gave a little shrug, she knew a few simple tricks to disguise footprints but she was sure there was magical tricks that would be a lot better. She paid more attention then as her eyes seemed to stare a bit too intensely as she examined the footprints.

Moggrim frowned when they entered the tent and spotted the body.  His nose flared some as he audibly inhaled and then grumbled, "Poison.  Number of them will cause that stench and bloat."

He moved over towards the body with a grimace and while he looked to see if the more necrotic tissue was in the wounds itself he also looked to see if there was enough blood for him to have been killed here or if he was brought there and dumped.  As he looked closely at the injuries he also squinted his eyes again and lifted his goggles up so he could look at the dead man more closely to see if he had and small puncture wounds.

Talla looks around, nodding in agreement as the others spoke. She approaches the man, eyeing the wound.

"Whoever did this tried to make it look like the sphinx did it, but obviously does not know anything about a sphinx! These bite marks look more like a spider's bite, and a human size one at that. They should have stuck with the claw marks, a sphinx doesn't even bite. It has a human head, not a lion's." She pauses as she considers Rynwyrd's comment about poison. She looks over to him as she says, "If this is a real spider bite, which I suspect it is, then it could have climbed up the side of the tent or jumped away if it was the correct type of spider." She considers thoughtfully. "This might also explain the shallow tracks." She frowns and shudders. "I do not look forward to meeting a spider larger than me."

This is likely the most you have heard Talla speak since you met her.

While the rest of the party crowded around the body, Torgan seemed content to wait by the entrance to the cage with Venlok the Scourge.  As a bard, Torg considered himself more of a "people" person than a "bloated corpse" person.  Which was just as well, since Venlok didn't smell quite as bad as the dead body.

Torgan had only talked to Venlok once or twice since he signed on, and as far as Torgan was concerned, the man was a brute.  He could be friendly enough when he felt like it, but otherwise his thuggish cruelty would be perfectly at home in an orcish raiding party.  Still, no reason to be rude.  Torgan gave the guards a friendly nod, then gestured towards the party.  "They're with us."  He explained, probably unnecessarily.

To clarify, the tracks do look like those of a large cat, even if some think they are too shallow to be real.

Venlok listens in and keeps a close eye on everyone, especially when they start poking around here or there. At Rynwyrd’s question he rattles off a response.

“We checked the tent in the morning as part of general security. I remember seeing this man around a couple hours before. According to Phardaen he asked for directions specifically for the Sphinx tent. When Phardaen told him that the show wouldn’t start for awhile he seemed unfazed. While we don’t stop people from poking around between shows we do try to keep an eye on where visitors are at all times. Phardaen and one of the guards saw him heading this way but as far as anyone saw he was alone. No one else went that way from the midway. I think his murderer was already here lying in wait for him but if so, how did they know he would be here? If you want my opinion, and you should, it wasn’t planned. Rube walked in in something he shouldn’t have and got whacked.”

Torgan thought for a second. "Well, I kinda doubt our corpse and his killer wound up in the tent together by accident.  He came straight here, so he was obviously expecting to find SOMETHING.  My money's on it being a setup.  Killer talks the mark into meeting him here, kills him, then uses some kinda cat-foot-shoes to fake the tracks and blame the circus.  Only thing I don't get is the spider-bites.  Why not just knife him?  A bunch of slash wounds would be a whole lot more convincing than this."

"Or..." Torgan scratched his chin absently while he thought.  "It was some kind of cat-spider monster.  Is that a thing?  I don't really know my monsters.  And speaking of monsters..."

He looked up suddenly, his gaze turning to Rynwyrd as the thought struck him.  The elf had seemed pretty dismissive of the idea of Jherizhana teleporting or firing energy beams.  Did he know more about sphinxes than he had let on?  Might be time to shake that particular tree and see if anything falls out.

"So, Venlok," the half-orc continued casually.  "What's normally the next step?  You make sure the tent's empty, someone goes to give Jheri the all-clear, and she teleports in for the show?  Obviously she can't just walk across the fairgrounds."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 22:36, Sun 22 July 2018.

"I'm in agreement with the setup part, it sounds like someone convinced him to come here so they could kill him and blame the sphinx. I dunno much about spiders, but I know there was weapons that can hold poison. Are you sure it was a spider and not just spider venom?"

Amara brushed herself off as she looked around carefully, sighing in frustration. She knew this wouldn't be easy but knowing who the stiff was would probably help, a lot.

Talla nods but gestures to the location of the bites. "These look like spider bites to me, so unless there is a weapon or another creature that can mimic the bites, I suspect it was a spider."

Verna took her time to dismount Garrick and took a look at the corpse. She agreed with Moggrim that poison was involved and noted to him when he mentioned it. With Garrick's reins loosely in hand she walk parallel, tapped the ground near to the mysterious footprints to have Garrick smell the footprints to see if he could make anything out of them. If Garrick started to follow the tracks, Verna would let the reins go and let him go where they took him. With Verna following him on his heels, urging him on.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:54, Tue 24 July 2018.

"So..... I think a big clue we're missing here is. Who is the corpse?"

Amara glanced at Venlok wondering if they knew yet, knowing who he was opened at least a fair bit of details and would let them better research things like who how and why. As is, a random dead body wasn't a big deal. At least until people started missing him. Actually....

"Hell, with supposed swamp wolves and a spider bite I'm surprised you don't just wait till night time and dump him on the edge of the swamp to be found."

Venlok was about to respond to Torgan when there was a commotion at the front. He held up a hand in the universal sign of "talk to you later" and left the tent. Shortly afterwards he returned accompanied by a local, albeit one who seemed quite a bit better off than the farmers and millers they had passed by earlier.

"Ah...I see. So you are the mercenaries and rat catchers assigned to look at..."

He paused and frowned as he looked down at the body. A wave of grief and surprise passes over his face.

"Oh...oh no. It's Viorec...how terrible."

He kneels down to take a closer look.

"I...I don't understand who could do this. Viorec was just a farmer. He had no enemies or problems. His house was on the outskirts of town. I don't even know why he would be at the carnival given..."

He frowned and stood up straight. His face was a stoic mask as he turned to address those that gathered. He had the practiced speaking voice of a seasoned professional.

"Greetings. I am the Mayor of Ravenmoor. My name is Andretti Kreigler. This here was Viorec Korzha, a local farmer. He has a house near the outskirts of town, chances are you passed right by it on the way here. He was a friendly sort and well-liked in town but he had been experiencing some recent tragedy that was causing him to act...off. You see his son, Ornigaard went missing last week. As much as we would like to think our community is a safe one the surrounding swamps have their fair share of dangers. Ornigaard was often being reprimanded for going where he shouldn't, most often chasing after his pet that liked to wander instead of staying close to its nest like most other stirges. When he went missing we helped search the nearby bogs for him but we couldn't find any trace of the boy. Viorec took it hard, as one would expect. He kept thinking that there was some clue or trail that could put him on his son's track but as the days passed the rest of the town shifted into mourning. Even his wife, Eliza, was grieving for her lost boy but Viorec kept at it."

He paused and considered the man and then seemed to take in his surroundings for the first time, noting the giant empty cage.

"Oh. Hmmm. So one of the carnival folk had informed me that there had been a murder but...what exactly is being housed in that giant cage and why isn't it there now?"

He began to look between the body and the cage and then noticed the paw prints leading out to the back.

"What is going on here. What killed Viorec? Forgive me but I thought Viorec had gotten into an altercation or something. They said there was an investigation but this doesn't look like he was knifed in a fight or something. This looks like an animal attack!"

He started looking around at the shadows in the dark tent with a nervous expression on his face.

"What's out there? Do I need to warn the town? Do we need to raise a militia or something?"

Verna heard only half of the mayors explanation of who the victim because Garrick had caught a scent and he was follow fast. If it weren't for Garrick stopping to see if Verna wasn't right behind her, the wolf would have shot ahead. "Hey! Garrick smells something!" she says excited to the others that were where the stakes had been pulled up. Verna intended to follow her wolf to where ever the scent took them.

Talla looked up at Verna and Garrick, startled at the sudden movement. As Verna calls out that the wolf had found something, Talla's gives a small grin. Following the wolf seemed a lot more exciting than staying and talking to the mayor. Besides, he looked like he needed a kind word and a calm voice to keep him from sending his entire town into the swamp in search of a monstrous creature set on slaughtering the town. That was not Talla.

She moved to join Verna, and hoped that Garrick would lead them on away from the dead body and nervous mayor.

OOC: Splitting into a new thread. Post there if you want to follow Verna< and her wolf

Andretti jumped as the wolf bounded past and frowned.

"I hope that thing is trained. If it attacks anyone you can be damn sure there will be a price to pay!"

But his words fell on deaf ears as the halfling and her wolf were already gone...

"I'll keep her out of trouble. You guys deal with this shitstorm. Ugh, why couldn't this happen in a forest instead of a swamp?"

Amara muttered to herself and quietly followed after the wolf, she was just as likely to insult the mayor as she was to explain things clearly. She could call a bluff and knew how to talk her way out of trouble, but she didn't know much about spiders. Nor did she fill like explaining how she knew so much about setting people up. Great way to get people not trusting you.

Torgan couldn't blame Verna for rushing out in the middle of the mayor's ceaseless prattling, or the others for following her.  A fresh scent and a possible lead were much more exciting fare than standing around while the biggest fish in the local puddle talked at you.  And wow, could this man talk.  He went from hurried to grieving to stoic to anxious, giving the dead man's full family history and asking question after question with no pause for anyone to answer.  It was almost impressive.

Half the party rushing out without warning was enough to give the blabbermouth pause for a moment, and Torgan did his best to seize the opportunity.  He held up his hands appeasingly as Mayor Andretti yelled after the wolf.  "Of course it's trained."  He replied, immediately putting on an air of calm assurance.  "We're professionals, and so is the wolf.  I'm Torgan Dul, and this is my team.  I'm happy to answer your questions as best I can, but first I need to ask one thing..."

"Did you just say "pet stirges"?  Stirges, those giant leathery mosquito things?  Stirges, nature's greatest insult to man and god?  Pet stirges?  Did I hear that right?"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:03, Thu 26 July 2018.

Ryn stood up from his crouch when Venlok left. He listened to the man, who turned out to be the mayor carefully. But even more importantly, he watched the man carefully as well. His reactions SEEMED to be genuine. He didn't seem to have any need to fake them, unless he was involved, which would be odd.

Ryn rolled his eyes at Torgan in clear view of both the half-orc and the mayor, when he tried to indicate it was his team. If they were in some place other than this backwards backwater town, he would care enough to correct the matter - and might do so in private later regardless.

"This man, Viorec you say, appears to have been killed with a poison, and someone appears to be going through a lot of effort to make it look like an animal attack. The circus has a sphinx that is usually in this cage - however, before you jump to any conclusions, I would point out that while the body appears to be mauled by claws, these bite marks here," and he indicated the bite mark in case the mayor wanted to look, "suggest something more like a spider, which is where the poison would have been injected." He finished with a small shrug. "Someone killed him and is trying to make it appear that the sphinx did so, but doing a poor job of the frame-up."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:05, Thu 26 July 2018.

"Of course, we're professionals." Karella called out before she followed the others outside. "We'll meet back here."


That would make 4 of us following the wolf. And that leaves 4 to talk to the mayor :)
This message was last edited by the player at 16:57, Thu 26 July 2018.

Andretti turned to Torgan and nodded.

"Yes that is correct. Domesticating stirges is a tradition for Ravenmoor. There are so many and they can be trained to be proper pets although we also butcher them as well. There  are quite a few local delicacies that use stirge legs."

As Rynwyrd explained the crime scene to the mayor his face darkened and he pursed his lips together.

"I see. I am not a healer nor an alchemist so I will have to trust your word on this. I appreciate being kept involved and will do everything in my power to help. Do you have any suspects yet? Do you know why Viorec was even here?"

Torgan despised stirges, as did all sensible people.  But no point insulting the local culture more than he already had.  Keeping up his assumed role as a professional investigator, he did his best to answer.  "We know he came here for a reason, though we're not entirely sure what that reason was.  He came to the carnival and immediately asked where the sphinx tent was.  Then he came here even though there wasn't a show, snuck in, and got killed.  I'd guess he was here because he thought there was some clue to his son's disappearance.  And if someone was willing to murder him over it, then I'd say that the boy didn't just wander off either.  Maybe he stumbled onto something he shouldn't have.  A smuggling stash or a drug plantation, or just the den of some monster or criminal hiding outside of town..."

The half-orc gestured towards the entrance of the tent.  "Unless anyone has anything else they'd like to do here, I'd like to take a look at Viorec's place."  With a glance at the mayor, he continued.  "You know anyone else we should be looking at?  Someone who seemed particularly annoyed that Viorec wouldn't let things go?  Or just...y'know, the shadiest fucker in town?"

The mayor gave a shrug.

"We don't have any...ahem...shady people in town. Not any that would be capable of murder, that's for sure. A couple days ago he got into an altercation with Saul Lupescu over at his store. Saul runs the local trading post and smithy and apparently refused to supply Viorec with equipment. Viorec intended to just march off into the swamp. Now Saul refused because it was obvious that Viorec wasn't thinking straight but the two came to blows. Nothing serious but it was a bit of unpleasantness that's for sure. I'm guessing you'll want to question Saul of that, he can be found at his trading post near the center of town. Listen for the sound of smithing and you'll know you found the right spot. Saul's wife and daughter both witnessed the confrontation first hand if you want more witnesses."

Rynwyrd actually smiled slightly during the mayor's talking. Biting back at the stirge's had an ironic and pleasantly vengeful tone to it that appealed to him. He might have to try one of those delicacies before they left town at some point.

He gave a nod to Torgan. "Agreed. Viorec's house, and to see the Lupescu family. I honestly doubt we will find that enough of an argument happened to justify murder, but I have been surprised before."

The mayor gives a nod and looks sadly at the body before discussing with Venlok how to make preparations to move the body for burial once the investigation is complete.

OOC: If you want to head to Viorec's house just say so. Otherwise the mayor will be available at his house for further questioning.

As the mayor turned away, Torgan gave the man a suspicious glance.  No shady people, huh?  Every group, every village, no matter how degenerate or honest, had someone who was least trustworthy.  That was just, like, math.  And if you couldn't say who that person was, it was probably you.

Or maybe Torg was just being paranoid.  Maybe the mayor was just too insulated to know who was up to what.  Although...if you're looking for a man with a secret worth killing for, it didn't hurt to start with the most successful man in town.

The half-orc led his small party out the door.  Once out of earshot of the mayor and Venlok, he glanced towards his companions.  "Hey Rynwyrd, I've been wondering something:  You're like, a hundred, right?  That's just how elves age, you're not adults until you're sixty or whatever.  Do you...were you a baby for years and years?  If I see an elf toddler, is that kid older than me? Or do you grow up at a normal rate, but then everyone treats you like a child for the next few decades?"

As he talked, Torgan cut easily through the crowd in the direction towards town.  He didn't quite know the way, but he could ask for directions once he hit the village proper.

OOC: Heading towards Viorec's house.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:40, Sun 05 Aug 2018.

Viorec's house is located right on the edge of town not far from the ferry that shuttled the party over to in the first place. On closer inspection the group can see a large bird cage made of wood that is empty near the front entrance. The house looks like overall it's been kept in good repair even though it seems oddly quiet and deserted compared to other houses around it.

The dwarf had been listening to the rest of the people chatting and when Torgun headed out he followed.  The half-orc certainly had the cocky boldness of his human half when he claimed them all as his group which had brought a smile to his face.  Let's see if he takes responsibility for something going wrong for 'his' group ran through his head as they walked.  When they finally got to the house Moggrim nodded his head to the side of the house, "I'll check around back to see if there is anything interesting..."

Poking his head around back he sees a woman hanging up laundry on a pair of poles behind the house.

Rynwyrd looked at Torgan with a raised eyebrow. "Just shy of one hundred and fifty actually." He stopped and frowned for a moment. "That...is a disturbing mental image, decades-old toddlers crawling around." He shook his head slightly as if to clear it. "Adulthood is something more than just physical maturity. It takes a long time for an elf to 'settle down', as it were, and take the steps to become a productive and/or fully functioning member of society." He closed his mouth, apparently having answered the question in his mind.

When they arrived at the house, Rynwyrd frowned quizzically at the dwarf. "What does he think he might find behind the house? The murder did not happen here and there is unlikely to be much of value to find."

He stepped up and knocked loudly on the front door.

Torgan just shrugged as Moggrim went to go look around the back.  The dwarf was a complete mystery to him, but hopefully he wasn't going to do anything crazy like breaking into the house.  People here were suspicious enough of outsiders as is.

"Y'know,"  Torgan opined, standing with Rynwyrd by the door as they waited for a response.  "Speaking as someone who was a "productive member of society" since I could walk: Your way does sound better."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:06, Sun 05 Aug 2018.

When Moggrim spotted the woman hanging clothes out back he glanced back at the front area.  Seeing the others disappear when they walked up to the front he shrugged his shoulders knowing there was little point in yelling to get their attention only to startle the woman.   Looking back to the woman he asked politely, "Excuse me ma'am, am I at the Korzha residence and are you Viorec's wife Eliza?"

The woman nods.



"Yeah...what do you want? Circus is that way..."

She jerks her chin in the direction of the circus at the outskirts of town. She paused and considered Moggrim and what he had just said.

"Wait...why are you asking about Viorec?"

Hearing voices come from behind the building, Torgan turned to Rynwyrd and made a small nod in the direction of the backyard.  He couldn't make out any words, but it sounded like the dwarf and a woman, meaning it was probably Viorec's wife.  The half orc sauntered over towards the back of the house.

As he came around the corner of the house and saw Moggrim talking to what was presumably the dead guy's wife, his face quickly fell from the easy cheer of his back and forth with Rynwyrd to something appropriately somber.  Approaching the pair, he called out to the woman.  Nothing against Moggrim, of course, but the dwarf didn't seem like much of a talker.  And since money was at stake (not to mention lives,) it might be best for the professional talker to take over.

"Excuse me, Mrs..."  Torgan faltered.  Oh crap, had he seriously forgotten the victim's last name?  "Are you Viorec's wife?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:31, Fri 10 Aug 2018.

Rynwyrd followed after Torgan. He looked over the woman in the back there for a moment. He assumed the answer to Torgan's question would be yes, but it wasn't a certainty. Regardless, he didn't want to waste time so he jumped right in. "We were just hoping that, if you are indeed his wife, we might ask you a few questions about an incident that occurred at the general store. If you are not she, then we apologize for bothering you, and would be appreciative if you might be able to direct us to her."

The woman nodded at Torgan's question but she had a look of suspicion on her face, especially when Rynwyrd started asking questions.

"Why are you outsiders asking about that? The past's in the past. There isn't anything to talk about no more."


OOC: FYI it will be a DC 20 diplomacy check or a DC 11 intimidate check to get her in a cooperating mood...

Torgan shook his head sadly. "I'm...afraid there is more to talk about, actually.  I should introduce myself; my name is Torgan Dul, and these are my associates Moggrim and Rynwyrd.  We've been hired by Mayor Kriegler and the carnival as investigators after an incident earlier today."

Torgan paused, letting his words sink in before continuing.  "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but your husband is dead."  The half-orc's voice was sad but steady, as if he'd delivered this kind of news countless times over the years and it broke his heart every time.  This wasn't true of course, but it seemed like a good way to play it.

"There's a lot that's still unclear, but it looks like he was murdered.  I know this must be a terrible shock to you, but we need your help if we're going to find his killer.  Do you know anyone who might have wanted to hurt Viorec?"

---

18:51, Today: Secret Roll: Torgan Dul rolled 28 using 1d20+11 with rolls of 17.  Diplomacy.

Rynwyrd stayed quiet. The woman was suspicious already and he didn't want to make it appear they were 'ganging up' on her or anything. Plus he thought she might need a minute to process and grieve...or she might get angry, or she might choose to think they were lying and get angry at them. It would all depend. He waited to see what happened and how she responded.

Eliza hesitates for awhile and then turns away, holding her skirt to her face. Her shoulders shake with sobs as she tries to compose herself.


Finally she dabs at the corners of her eyes but she keeps her head pointed low.

"No...ain't nobody had fault with Viorec. Nobody in town anyway. If you ask me it was probably one of those shifty carnies or one of their stupid beasts. I heard they had all manner of dangerous creatures in their little sideshows. An orc even! Seems obvious to me who might have killed my poor husband."

As the widow Korzha hid her face to cry, Torgan caught the eyes of his fellow investigators.  Bull-shit, he mouthed silently, before dropping back into his previous 'sad detective' persona.

As Eliza regained her composure and started to spin her story, Torgan nodded sympathetically.   "Ma'am, I understand completely."  He looked around to make sure nobody was listening, then leaned forward to confide in the widow.  "Those carnies are pretty obviously the culprits, if you'll excuse my bluntness.  But the mayor is going to want some kind of proof before we can bring them to justice.  Is there anything you remember that might help us?  Something Viorec might have said about one of them, or about why he would have gone to the fairgrounds in the first place?"

The half-orc's face was the picture of earnest anger.  Of a well-meaning oaf ready to go bust some heads to right this wrong, if only he could find an excuse to go storming in.  If only Eliza could provide him with an excuse.  (And hopefully let an actual clue or two slip out in the process.)

---

00:27, Today: Torgan Dul rolled 23 using 1d20+13 with rolls of 10.  I have completely fallen for her clever ploy (feign ignorance).
This message was last edited by the player at 06:47, Wed 15 Aug 2018.

Eliza shook her head, wiping "tears" from her eyes.

"Not that I can think of. He was obsessed about finding our boy. Nobody knows what happened to him. Fool probably went off to talk to someone at the carnival hoping for answers. You know...don't they say that those lion things...ummmm...sphinxes...yeah. Don't they say them sphinxes know stuff? Maybe that thing knows what happened to Viorec."


She nodded her head as if agreeing with herself. Thanks to Torgan's warning however the group realizes the lies for what they are. For someone who lost their son she seems remarkably nonchalant about the affair and it was clear that although she acted sad there were no real tears.

Rynwyrd was respectfully quiet while the woman broke down and then slowly composed herself. Loss was difficult to deal with, as was grief. He tried to avoid those two whenever possible. Of course, he wasn't surprised that Torgan wasn't having any of what the widow was selling. Rynwyrd wasn't entirely convinced.

"So your assumption is that he went to the carnival and someone there killed him for some unknown reason. I see." He paused as if collecting his thoughts. She seemed to be remarkably well-informed about the carnival though trying to make it appear that she wasn't certain what manner of creatures were in there. It was possible there were posters or rumors that she had picked up on.

"Your son disappeared before the carnival arrived, is that right? And your husband, nor anyone else, have been able to find any trace of where he might have gone or what fate befell him?"

Torgan nodded thoughtfully as Rynwyrd turned the conversation to the missing boy.  "Right, right."  He muttered as if only now realizing that there might be a connection between the two deaths.

"And, if you don't mind me asking, what sort of things did you and your husband do to try and find the boy?  You said Viorec was obsessed."

Eliza doesn't seem to notice the suspicions that the group has of her and continues on with the charade.

"We looked everywhere. The whole town organized a search of the nearby swamps to try and find him but nothing turned up. I don't know what happened to him..."

It's quite clear from the shift of her stance that she's lying at this point.

"...but most likely the swamp ate him. It happens from time to time and he had a tendency to go places he wasn't supposed to..."

What's interesting is that this last part seems truthful.

"Anyway Viorec was obsessed, yes. After a couple of days searching with nothing to show for it we all went back to our business. I mean it's heartbreaking but we're a tough people. We can't fall apart every time someone goes missing. Still have work to do and other mouths to feed. I hope that my boy will walk back through the door but...it ain't gonna happen and Viorec just couldn't accept that. He was convinced he could find him. Started harassing people in town, even yelled at the Mayor to organize another search a couple days ago. He just...he just couldn't accept that our boy was gone."

Rynwyrd frowned a bit and scratched his chin as he listened to the woman speak. He thought about her words for a moment and then shook his head slowly. "Interesting. You are telling the truth about some things, but you are lying about your son. I wonder why that would be. What actually happened to your son? And why would you not tell your husband? Was he an outsider to this town?"

Torgan froze as Rynwyrd casually asked the widow why she was lying to them.  Slowly, his head turned to look at the elf, staring at him with a look of baffled horror.  Did Ryn...know he was talking out loud?  Was this some clever trick a short-lived oaf like Torgan just didn't understand?  Or didl Rynwyrd think Eliza, an obvious accomplice to the murder of her husband and son, would tell him the truth if he just asked a second time?

Torgan turned back to the widow, still obviously baffled.

Fuck it.  They probably weren't going to get anything else out of her by playing along, anyways.  Might as well see how she reacts to this...
This message was last edited by the player at 18:09, Sat 01 Sept 2018.

The woman’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in anger.

”How dare you. Get out! Your kind isn’t welcome around here. Leave. NOW!

At this point her voice was raised as she started shouting at the adventurers.

And that was the end of that conversation.  One way or another, Eliza wasn't going to be letting any other info slip out.  The only thing Torgan could hope to do was smooth the exit enough that her co-conspirators didn't put a couple knives into his back before he could figure out what was really going on.  He wheeled on Ryn, his face a mask of shocked indignation.

"That is enough out of you!"  He snapped with enraged authority.  He winked at the elf, counting on his turned head to hide the gesture from the angry widow.  "Get out of here!  I'll deal with you later."

Assuming Ryn took the hint and scampered off, The half-orc turned back to Eliza with exasperation and embarrassment.  "I'm sorry about that.  The elf...he's under a lot of stress, but that's no excuse for him to go flying off the handle like that.  Still, I promise I'll do whatever it takes to catch those carnies who murdered your husband."  Without waiting for a response of either kind, Torgan turned and left.

Catching up to Rynwyrd around the corner of the house, Torgan clapped the alchemist on the back.  "Gorum's spiky balls!"  He chuckled, shaking his head.  Leaning in, he continued in a quieter voice.  "Gimme a little warning next time!  Spouting off like that is a great way to get us knifed in our fucking sleep!"

Apparently deciding that getting murdered in his sleep was a problem that could wait until nightfall, Torgan focused on the problem at hand.  "Where to, next?  I'm leaning towards checking out the blacksmith.  If he was fighting with Viorec, he might be in with whoever killed the guy.  On the other hand, the whole town can't be part of it, or they wouldn't have to frame the carnival..."

Ryn frowned, not in anger or frustration, but more of confusion. He gave a shrug of his shoulders, slowly turned to walk away. That much anger was a bit of an irrational response, but then if she was lying, clearly she had something to hide. Torgan's outburst was even more confusing. Ryn didn't work for him, but as he had already started to turn to leave, he just continued to do so.

The over-familiar back-slap when Torgan re-appeared later was also confusing. Rynwyrd glanced at the hand but decided not to comment. He shook his head. "No. She won't knife us in the back. But she may make contact with someone else. I think this may be a larger conspiracy, but I could be wrong."

He hesitated. "Well. I was hoping we might keep a watch on the widow here to see if she leaves to speak with someone or if someone suddenly shows up in a little bit, to speak with her in response to our conversation with her. However, she may not make a move until nightfall."

He looked at Torgan. "Unless you wish to go to the blacksmith's on your own? Or we could see if Moggrim will stay and watch?" He looked at the dwarf.

Picking up on the elf's irritation, Torgan moved his hand away from Rynwyrd and straightened up a bit. "Well...She definitely knows who killed her son and who killed her husband.  And she's fine with it.  And since she's clearly no criminal mastermind, she has to have at least one friend to do the dirty work."

"I just don't get how she can be so fine with all this, though."  Torg grumbled.  "No matter how ruthless you are, you have to be at least a bit upset if someone kills your fucking family!  Is it a cult thing?  Is she being mind controlled?"

Shrugging of the question as something that would have to wait, he turned back to the matter at hand. "Either way, watching the house is a good idea, but I don't know how we'd pull it off.  I mean, this is a human town, with maybe five last names between the lot of them.  We stick out like a sore thumb.  Plus, I'm not exactly...dressed for hiding in the bushes."  Torgan finished, gesturing at his brightly colored clothes.  The truth of the matter was that Torgan could be wearing a ghillie suit and he'd still be far from stealthy.

"Moggrim looks like the sneakiest of the three of us.  No offense," He added, turning to the quiet dwarf.  "But you are the lowest to the ground."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:06, Sun 09 Sept 2018.

OOC: Moving things along...

One of the buildings located towards the center of town indicates it as the town trading post with a simple sign that shows tools in one hand and a bag of gold in the other. Other then that sign nothing else would make the building stand as there isn't any mercantile traffic going in and out of the building.

Looking at the inventory shows an ill-stocked trading post that contains almost exclusively agriculture equipment: plows, scythes, flour sacks, boxes of nails, flails and the licke. Most of the available space is taken up with tables with a long counter along one side. There is a fire going with a thick, creamy stew boiling on a large cauldron.

Just south of the building is a large barn that seems to be used to store hay and seed.

Behind the counter is a bored looking burly man with a thick beard half asleep at the counter. Walking up and down the shelves taking inventory is a plain woman with a pinched face but what really attracts the attention is that out in front of the store is a beautiful blonde teenager working on repairing a fine but threadbare dress. She has a brilliant aura that seems completely at odds to the otherwise suspicious and dour looks the rest of the townsfolk have and she hums a ditty to herself as she works the needle and thread.

---

Man behind counter:


Woman taking inventory:


Teenager out front:

Leaving Moggrim to stake out the Korzha house, Torgan and Rynwyrd headed towards the trading post.  The neckbeard must be the owner, Saul.  He was the one they had come to talk to, having gotten into a punch up with their victim shortly before his death.  But the girl was what interested Torgan most.

Not like that, the bard reminded himself.  Sure, she was pretty enough, but Torg had more pressing issues than trying to seduce some townie teenager.  More than that, she stood out compared to the rest of the village, and that might be important.  If not... well, she might be a bit less guarded with the words than the rest of her family.

He leaned over to Ryn as they approached.  "We should split up.  You go talk to the owner, I'll see if I can get anything out of the girl."

On a whim, he ducked out of sight a short distance away from the store.  Just around the corner, he quietly sung a spell to himself, giving his eyes the ability to see magical auras.  Maintaining the spell through concentration, he followed Ryn towards the trading post, a half dozen paces behind the elf.  Giving the building a quick, surreptitious scan from the doorway, he turned to the young woman as if just noticing her for the first time.

"Oh, pardon me."  He interjected, seemingly embarrassed to be interrupting her sewing, "But do you know Viorec Korzha?  I hear he got into a bit of a scuffle here recently."

Rynwyrd raised one eyebrow as Torgan delegated himself to talking to the attractive teenager, but since he didn't care he said nothing and paid it no mind. He slowly approached the man behind the counter. The direct approach hadn't worked with the wife but he didn't want to lie either.

"Good day to you. Are you Saul Lupescu, the owner of this store?" He waited for confirmation before continuing. "My name is Rynwyrd. I came to town to enjoy the carnival originally, but there was...an incident. So I have been tasked with trying to find out what happened. I spoke with your Mayor earlier and he pointed me here."

He paused a moment. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

Torgan
The teenager perks up considerably seeing Torgan approaching.

"Oh hey! You must be one of those visitors! Isn't it exciting? Mother says that if I finish my sewing I can go visit the carnival!"

She was so excited about a stranger talking to her that she jumped straight past his question and started to go on and on about how magical the circus was. Finally her brain caught up to her mouth and she processed his question and her smile faltered a bit.

"Yeah I know Viorec. He and my daddy are friends. Sometimes friends fight. Viorec was just upset about his missing son...why do you ask?"

---

Rynwryd

The man behind the counter nodded at Rynwyrd although he had the general distrustful look about him that most of the townsfolk adopted.

"The name's Saul. Saul Lupescu. Mayor sent you, eh? What about?"

"Well..." Torgan hesitated.  "There was a bit of an incident at the carnival, and it involved Viorec.  The mayor was hoping someone with an outside perspective could help get to the bottom of things."

He scratched at his mutton chops awkwardly.  "Might be worth holding off on going to the fair until things get sorted out.  Anyways, what was the fight about?  I hear Viorec had some sort of plan he was stocking up for."

"Oh, and how well do you know his wife, Eliza?  What do you think of her?"

Rynwryd gave the man a short nod, and a look that said he was glad to have found the right person. "Well. That is a...delicate situation." He lowered his voice and leaned in ever so slightly, not wanting to make the man uncomfortable or anything. "The Mayor said that you and Viorec had an...argument? A disagreement?" He raised his hands slightly and gave the man a look to see if he wanted to offer a different word for it.

Torgan

The girl frowns when Torgan mentions unpleasantness and doesn't seem to react any special way to the mention of Eliza.

"Oh no! I hope everything is alright! Did something happen to Eliza? I like her although she was a lot nicer before her son went missing. Such a shame that."

---

Rynwyrd

The owner gives a sigh and tells the same story that the mayor and Eliza had said earlier. Viorec was obsessed with finding his son and wouldn't let it go. When Saul had told him that he needed to focus on the family he's still got then Viorec went crazy and Saul had to pin him down to keep him from trashing the shop.

Moggrim shows up around this time and motions for the others to talk privately.

"You were right, the wife shot out of there just after we left. Went straight towards the Weaver shop across town at a quick pace."

Torgan smiled at the news.  Talking to the shopkeeper's family was starting to feel like a bust, but the widow sneaking off seemed promising!  It was a little embarrassing he hadn't thought to watch Eliza himself, but that was the whole point of working in a team, wasn't it.  He'd missed this sort of thing during the last few years of odd jobs and singing gigs.

Turning back to the girl, Torgan gave her a casual wave goodbye.  "Thanks for the help!" he called out, before rushing off in the direction of the weaver's.

Ryn frowned slightly, but gave a nod to Saul. "I see. Thank you for taking the time to explain this to me." He was about to perhaps say more or ask some questions when the dwarf Moggrim showed up at the store and motioned them over. "Please, excuse me."

He made his way over and listened to what he had to say. He gave a small nod. That was expected, though her choice of destination was not. He looked at Torgan and opened his mouth but the half-orc was already on his way out the door. He let out a small sigh and followed after.

The trio head out and make their way to the Weaver's shop. Marked with a fading sign  depicting a ball of thread and knitting needles the shop is fairly well maintained compared to the rest of the town. Inside the shop is filled with simple clothing, cloth, thread, and yarn with a large loom and spinning wheel take up most of the shop's back area, along with a large cage containing Mushfen silkworms.

The proprietor of the shop is speaking hurridly with Eliza but as the trio approach she motions for Eliza to head to the back room. The shopkeeper is a wizened old crone who looks absolutely ancient with a stooped hunch back, stringy white hair and hands gnarled by old age and arthritis.

The old crone calls out to the trio and waves them inside as they approach.

"Ah, hello! There! Come in, come in. I can see you're interested in my wares..."

Torgan came up short as the women spotted them.  Shit!  He probably shouldn't have just rushed down the street in plain sight.  If they'd been more circumspect, they might have had a chance to eavesdrop and figure out what was really going on.  On the other hand, the village already saw them as outsiders.  Getting caught skulking around and peeking through windows might wear out their welcome entirely.

With an apologetic shrug to his companions, the bard approached the shop casually.  He didn't cross the threshold, instead stopping to lean against one side of the doorframe.

"Oh, no time to shop, I'm afraid.  But we were hoping you could answer a few questions for us.  My name is Torgan Dul, and these are my associates Rynwyrd and Moggrim.  The mayor has us looking in on an incident that happened at the carnival.  Do you know Eliza and her husband well?"

The old crone cocked her head to the side.

"What? You'll have to forgive me my hearing isn't what it used to. Come in, come in."

She offered up a smile and motioned with a gnarled hand to come inside.

Ryn slowed down as the impetuous half-orc slowed and then entered the new store. The elf instead stopped and cocked his head to the side for a moment. His eyes narrowed and he headed around back of the shop instead to see if the widow was trying to hightail it since Torgan had been seen.

Rynwyrd moves into the shop while the other stay outside. Looking into the back he sees Eliza who snarls at him and charges pulling a sickle out from her belt.

---

Round 1

Torgan's casual reply was cut off at the sound of Eliza's battle cry.  Straightening up, he slipped his heavy wooden shield off his shoulder and down onto his forearm.

"I can see you're busy."  He remarked, tightening the strap on his shield.  "If you don't mind, we'll just be on our way."

He held his empty right hand up to wave goodbye, which incidentally left it free to cast a spell

Move: Don shield
Standard: Ready action, cast grease under the feet of anyone who takes a hostile action. Thats a DC 14 reflex to avoid falling prone, and a DC 10 acrobatics check to move at half speed (failure triggers another reflex save)

Also, Torgan has 11 hp, due to his toughness feat.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:18, Thu 27 Sept 2018.

Rynwyrd let out a loud sigh as his blundering presence caused Eliza to become much more aggressive than before. "Stop! I have no wish to harm you!" He quickly tried to pull his elven branched spear from his back, and flipped it around. He swung the butt of the spear at the woman, intending to try and just knock her out instead of killing her. Of course, that did NOT go according to plan at all!


09:23, Today: Rynwyrd Darkmoon rolled 0 using 1d20-1 with rolls of 1.  Non-Lethal Attack with spear.

Round 1
Togran is prepared and snaps off a grease spell causing her to slip and fall prone onto the ground.

Moggrim pauses, waiting to see what will happen.

The weaver puts her hands back on the wall behind her and then starts climbing up the side of the wall, scrambling up until she is in the corner of the ceiling. With a cackle she suddenly spews forth a giant spiderweb that engulfs Moggrim and sticks him to the ground.

Moggirm squirms his way out of the webbing and

Rynward pokes at the prone woman with his spear but she kicks his spear away from her before he can bonk her on the head.

Rynwyrd was a bit distracted by the shopkeeper who suddenly walked up the wall and spat out webbing! His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. On instinct and training more than skill, he swung the butt of the awkward-looking spear again at Eliza, hoping to perhaps knock her out.

09:45, Today: Rynwyrd Darkmoon rolled 13 using 1d20-1 with rolls of 14.  Non-Lethal Attack with spear.
09:46, Today: Rynwyrd Darkmoon rolled 5 using 1d8-2 with rolls of 7.  Non-lethal damage if that hits.

Torgan was also taken aback by old lady's...unusual fighting style.  Was that a spell?  He hadn't seen any magic words or gestures, but then again the weaver was acting strange enough the spell might just have been hard to read.  Taking a step back to use the doorway as cover, the half-orc drew a javelin from the quiver at his hip.  As he hefted it in preparation for a throw, he took a deep breath.

"MOOOOOONSTEEEEEER!"  He bellowed out at the top of his singer's voice.  "There's a monster in the weaver's shop!"

He wasn't entirely sure if that was true, of course.  But it would hopefully attract attention and he was pretty sure he could clear up any confusion when people got there.  It would be a lot easier to explain than if someone happened to just walk by and see them laying into the local widow.

FREE: 5-ft step (using doorway as cover), yell
MOVE: Draw Javelin
STANDARD: Ready javelin to interrupt the weaver's next action. (+2 to hit, 1d6 damage.)

OOC: Did the weaver cast a spell (usually pretty obvious), or was that web more...biological in origin?  Either way, it doesn't change Torgan's action.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:29, Sat 06 Oct 2018.

Round 2
Togran is readies his javelin.

Eliza picks herself up off the ground and moves forward ready to attack.

Moggrim moves out of the webs and stabs up at the weaver with his spear but she bats the head away with her feet.

The weaver begins casting a spell. Torgan throws his javelin but misses and it strikes the wall next to the weaver. Moggrim jabs at her with his spear and she seems to lose her concentration.

Rynwrd backs up and bashes Eliza with his spear and smacks her good but she's still standing


This message was last edited by the GM at 02:30, Sat 06 Oct 2018.

Rynwyrd hadn't knocked a lot of people out in his years of being alive. In fact, he'd never knocked anyone out. He hadn't really tried before. He didn't enjoy combat, and most of the few combat situations he'd been in had been life or death. He only had his own experience of being knocked out to use as a guideline - and he'd been knocked out fairly easily.

So he was very surprised when Eliza got back and came towards him again. So much so, in fact, that he missed her entirely with the butt of his spear by a wide margin.


09:51, Today: Rynwyrd Darkmoon rolled 4,1 using 1d20-1,1d8-2 with rolls of 5,3.  Non-Lethal Attack/Dmg with spear on Eliza.

Drawing another javelin, Torgan took a deep breath and raised his voice into a deep, rumbling song.  The song he chose was The Fall of Shelur Ghak, about a foul enchantress and her death at the hands of Urghal One-Eye.  Not that anyone listening would know that unless they spoke orcish, of course.  But even without knowing what the words meant, the song carried an air of iron-willed determination and heroic bloodshed.

MOVE: Draw Javelin
STANDARD: Inspire courage: +1 to attack, damage, and saves against fear for all allies.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:32, Sat 06 Oct 2018.

Round 3
Torgan lets loose an inspiring song to magically aid his comrades with courage.

Eliza stepped forward and slached at Rynwyrd but the elven alchemist easily parried the attack.

Moggrim poked at the weaver but she scurried up and out of his reach.

The weaver once again began crafting a spell. Moggrim tries to disrupt it but the Weaver has slid back into the corner and out of his reach again.

Rynwyrd once again attacks with the spear and this time Eliza parries it with her sickle.

Seeing the weaver start to cast a long spell, Torgan hurled his javelin at her with all his strength.  While still maintaining the notes and rhythm of his orcish epic, the bard started replacing the words with more understandable Common.  Ironically, the result was pretty close to it's original meaning:

"Ryn, the witch!  Quickly, she must fall!
 While you dally with the local girls
 She works to doom us all!"

---

FREE: Maintain bardic music
STANDARD: Throw javelin at weaver,  (14 to hit, 7 damage if successful)
MOVE: Draw javelin

Rynwyrd glanced at Torgan and then made a 'very well, if you insist' sort of face. He took a step back from Eliza and put the spear upright in to the crook of his elbow. He then with a quick and practiced hand pulled out a vial and mixed some things in to. He gave it a shake and then tossed it at the witch. His aim seemed to be very good.

OOC: 5ft step from Eliza.
Throw bomb at Weaver, hit AC 22 for 7 fire damage.

09:40, Today: Rynwyrd Darkmoon rolled 21,6 using d20+4,d6+2 with rolls of 17,4.  Throw bomb at witch.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:09, Sun 14 Oct 2018.