An Ominous Message

Log Info

• Title: An Ominous Message
• Emitter: Nemori
• Characters: Slixvah, Khepri, Robert, Jay
• Place: Lower Trades District, Fernwood Pub
• Time: April 18th, 2022
• Summary: A small group gathers at the Ilife Smithy in the lower trades district, some looking into a recent murder, others because they have personal reasons to be there. A discarded message is discovered and deciphered, leading the group to follow the trail of a missing person, leading them to another adventuring party. Negotiations ensue, with dark suspicions falling upon the latter group's missing member, and the four now six prepare for a multi-day journey to discover truth and, possibly, seek justice.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=    The Players    =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Jay                5'9"     145 Lb     Eaglefolk         Male      A perky male Blue Jay with a discerning eye.                               
Khepri             6'10"    300 Lb     War Golem         Male      A tall, gangly war-golem draped in religious charms                                                          
Robert             6'3"     235 Lb     Human             Male      A middle-aged Cerenzan with a friendly, fatherly vibe.                     
Slixvah            5'8"     130 Lb     Eaglefolk         Female    A rust red and white Egalrin covered in veils, ribbons, and shawls.      
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  As the GM  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Nemori       3m      4'10"    110 Lb     Mul'niessa        Female  A tall and slender, dark skinned elf.  
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

Ilife Smithy

It's a subdued Variday morning. The rain is not substantial, but it's been a constant, suppressive presence that only seems to underline the general grey mood of the city. But, people have to work. The city needs to run. Most of the workshops in the district have opened their doors, and the noise of industry is everpresent. More temporary vendors have set up their covered stalls, and even now the smells of cheap food mingle with the scents of lumber and coal and iron.

The Ilife Smithy remains quiet. Typically only opened when its owner has need, lately it has been home to at least some activity every day with its new resident but today it is empty, its resident cleaning staff and potential apprentice yet to make an appearance.

The Ilife Smithy is a simple and open structure dilineated by low stone walls, framing posts, and a slanted roof. The space is roughly 10'x15' with an ancient forge hearth as its centerpiece. A table and a high counter mounted to the framing poses form an interrupted L on the north and west sides of the building. A steel anvil is anchored to a dead tree trunk.

A path leading from the main thoroughfare comes to a low gate but the hinged entrance is a formality; only the laziest and shortest of the short races would struggle climbing over the low walls. Sightlines through the building are only interrupted by the framing posts and large hearth.

There's an odd little figure coming down the way: a rust red and white eglarin woman covered in ribbons, robes, and shawls. It's busy outside, wings are tucked in tight to keep from knocking into anyone. Though, a gyroparasol spins idly behind her over a shoulder to keep the errant rain out.

Her errant meandering causes her to realize: oh! There was something up with Robert smithy! And she alters course for there. She slowly walks up the path past the gate, her whistling a soft bird tune. She starts low, and gets to a loud, announcing, "...hhhhhheeeeeeeey Robby! You here handsome?"

Clink. Clink. Clink. Metal-shod feet on cobbles, as the gangling form of Khepri paces inexorably down the road. Inured to the rain that patters down on its hull, the glimmering yellow of its eyes visible even in the daylight as it approaches the smithy. Looking much as it always does -- armor, khopesh, glued-on prayer strips and jingling scarab charms -- it comes to a stop before the gate.

Khepri pauses to remove a scroll from its pack, inspecting it for a moment, before rolling it up again and carefully opening the gate. As the war golem steps inside, it fastidiously closes the gate behind it, before taking note of Slixvah. Its voice sounds, "Greetings. Do you know where the proprietor of this establishment is?"

"You have the Fatespinner's timing," Rob answers Slixvah's call-- though from the opposite direction. The assorted sounds of artifice-enhanced and aetherite-powered armored armatures resolve out of the general tradesmen's din as the Cerenzan lumbers in from the south. His oversized mitt is raised in greeting.

The artificer's head looks too small poking out above the raised gorget of the suit but the corners of his mouth and smiling eyes are plain to see. The bowl helmet has come detached and he carries the dented thing down at his side. "... and Tarien's luck.

"What can I do for you, miss Slix?" A glance past her before he adds "... and your... 'friend?'"

Slix swirls on the spot, a little twister of ribbons and shawls from the motion as she looks uuup- "Ah! Khepri! Hello Shiny! What's good?"

A hand rubs the side of her beak as she glances back to the forge. "Dunno Shiny, was just stoppin' on by to see if-"

Blue eyes blink. And she perks up. "Eyyy, there you are! I got know clue what Khepri here wants, but a little bird told me that stuff's been a little sus 'round here and I wanted ta make sure you were all good and the like! What'cha comin' in from?" she asks, gesturing broadly at the aetherite-powered armor. "Don't tell me your back's given out already."

The inside of the smithy is even cleaner and more orderly than usual, as though some extra effort were taken to make it presentable. Every tool in its place. Every surface rubbed down to minimize the soot and signs of use (though not eliminated, of course.) All told, it looks like picture out of a flyer on smithy sales. Save for a few scatted pieces of ripped parchment and a small, halfburned belt pouch in the forge furnace.

Another item of note that only Robert would recognize; the bedroll is gone.

Khepri removes the scroll from its pack, and proffers it to Robert. "Per an agreement with the city watch, I was requested to assist you in the recent intrusions in your place of business." The document is a properly signed and sealed form from the Vardaman Church to assist the watch; evidently they're farming out some of their personnel.

"I am at your disposal, Robert Ilife. Do you know what, if anything, may have been stolen or damaged?" The war golem seems earnest enough, though its toneless voice isn't the most comforting.

"Bob! Bob! I'm coming in to land. Oh! Slix! Hi Slix! Lookout! I'm landing." Integrity C Truefeather, the 'C' is for course-correction, is coming in to land. The white, black and bluejay flies overhead with wings spread wide enough to sweep the streets before banking and dropping.

He stops right in front of the red and white be-ribbonned Egalrin, bounces in place then bows. "Slix! Good to see you."

"Oh hi Khepri, what are you doing here?" His head twitches to various points as he looks around, "Where's Nemori? Did you all read the papers?"

"... asking around," Bob answers Slixvah, distracted for a moment. He reforges the smile and holds up his helmet, tapping the dent to produce a metal-on-metal clacking. "Someone wanted me to have a real good look at their hammer," he chuckles as he walks past the trio, resting a gauntlet lightly on Jay's shoulder.

"Bob is fine," the Cerenzan tells Khepri with a glance. He nudges open the gate with a metal boot-- the hinge is broken-- then pauses long enough to catch it with his heel to keep it from bouncing closed. "Or Rob, please." A look from Jay to the wargolem. "Khepri..? Muse' grace," he greets.

The helm is hanged from a hook through an eyehole and the big man is making a circuit of the place. "... she's gone," he finally answers the blue-feathered egalrin from the hearth.

"IC and I had made a new friend: Lady Nemori. She was staying here until she got her feet under her." He's carefully fishing out the pouch and the pieces of paper; the titan fists are capable of suprisingly-fine manipulations in spite of their size. "Some troubled family history followed her to Alexandria."

Slixvah cocks her head to the side at Khepri's explanation of their presence. She's about to say more as there's squawking from above. The fortune teller looks up, chuckles, and sidesteps out of the way. "Heya Blue," she hums. "Nice to see you too."

She bobs her head once. "Yes. I've read. That was my little bird," she answers, stepping towards the forge and watching its owner inspect the place. "Well, whoever your friend is makes this place looks right as could be. Almost looks like it was cleaned out again like that one day. What's ah... she ain't here now. That's..."

Her crown feathers press against her head. "... my gut's telling somethin's... pardon my language, fucky."

"Don't you mean ducky?" Jay chirps.

Slixvah's eyes crinkle in a smile. "Quack," she blurts out, not sounding too unlike a mallard.

Khepri turns its blank yellow stare on Robert initially, then the others, mulling over what it's hearing before it speaks again. "She was being hunted?" It walks into the smithy itself where, evidently, Nemori had been last. Looking around, its stare a steady, methodical thing.

"It would be very bold to pursue a vendetta here in the city. Too many chances for something to go wrong and invite reprisals." It looks at Robert, tilting its head. "Without recrimination: did she steal something from the family? Or did someone think she did?"

GAME: Robert rolls Intelligence: (20)+4: 24

"Well," Jay first wide-open beak grins at Slixvah, rocking his head from side to side, and then he turns to face Khepri and Robert. "Allegedly, her family killed her bro..." he breaks off suddenly, looking directly at the old artificer.

"Is this priveledged client-attorney information? I'm not sure I can share it. We told her we were going to share it, right?" His head tilts the other way. He decides, then nods, "We told her."

"Allegedly, killed her brother, were going to make him into an artifact. She stole that. Allegedly. They attempted to get it back. Bob and I were there for that. There!"

"She's a troubled girl... but a hard worker," Robert tells Slixvah when she comments on the cleanliness of the smithy, mustering all the conviction of a man who sees the best in people. The contents of the pouch make him sigh sadly. The scraps present a challenge.

He looks up from his puzzle when Jay speaks, the easy smile replaced by a thoughtful frown.

"She said the staff was the last piece of her brother that she had," he clarifies, thinking and doing his best to ignore those distant Kulthian whispers. "They want the artifact for a ritual; to house something. Who the item belongs to seems to be up for debate," he answers Khepri.

He finishes sorting the little papers, tilting his head to try and piece together incomplete information. The pouch is set aside carefully on the edge of the hearth and he taps a finger next to it. "She either killed the mul they found in the river or mutilated the corpse after the fact," he adds, burying the lead.

Slix is leaning against the side of smithy roof supports, arms crossed as the gryoparasol sticks out behind her. A soft sigh leaves her nose. "Poor girlie. That sounds right awful. Can't imagine what she's gone through..."

As Robert is piecing together the impromtou puzzle, she rubs the side of her beak in thought. Her head tilts to the side. ".. you think that was her? Heard about that. That's some... nasty work..."

Her wings shift a bit nervously. "... where do you think she might be now?"

The ripped pieces of paper are quickly assembled into something resembling their former, untouched nature. There are pieces missing, which unfortunately interferes greatly with whatever narrative was left on the note. Some of the more complete words refer to 'staff' and 'business.' Some partial phrases such as '--me alone' and '--sing wind--'. The last line reads 'where we uncaged you.' The script is flowing, almost elegant, like it is wasted on a language like tradespeak.

Khepri stares impassively. "I have read of worse. At one time there was a cult of assassins that prevented their targets from being restored to life by extracting their hearts, or removing their heads. Or both." A pause. "They would later be wiped out."

Slixvah's question does have some merit. "She felt safe here, until she wasn't. Did she have other places she might go, seeking aid? Or perhaps, to settle the score? Some hunters will simply not stop until they or their prey are defeated."

Integrity stares at the re-assembled pieces of paper, head tilted one way, then the other as he examines it and thinks. "How about 'Come Alone'? That's a typical extortion warning. 'sing wind'..."

He clacks his beak together, "A ship name? 'Promising Winds'? The body was allegedly found down by the docks, yes? yes?"

There's a reference to a cage. Not the cage he has in mind, but it's enough to make his tailfeathers twitch.

"I don't know where she was uncaged, but that escort that she arrived at the city might. Although, that doesn't sound like it would relate to some place in the city. Hmmm." He adjusts his vest, looking thoughtful.

"Or 'closing window' if they mean to imply time is an issue," Bob ventures with a look at Jay. The armored plates clank when he shrugs and steps aside. There's a motion for the other two to have a look if they're so inclined.

"IC and I met her just as she got into the city at the beginning of the month. She was being escorted by a trio of mercenaries." The Cerenzan is making another circuit of the blacksmith, looking for clues he might've missed. "I doubt she'd go to them; they were happy to be done with the contract and see the back of lady Nemori."

There's a heavy sigh. "As of this morning no one at the gates could confirm the elf that took the staff had left the city."

A small breeze threatens to pick up and scatter the loose papers again, though not so violently that this can't be remedied by holding them down, or placing something upon them to keep them pinned. The belt pouch's string stirs a little bit in that breeze, its ghastly contents remaining hidden, but taunting.

Slix is leaning over from the opposite side, even her little thrush has popped their head out of a shawl to see what was going on. "Hmmm..."

She glances to and fro amongst the others, nodding slowly. "No Blue, body was found on the banks near th' Northern Bridge..." she murmurs.

Vague dots are connected as she's drumming her fingers along her beak. She steps into the smithy, taking an idle look around as she goes. Not really knowing what she's looking for. Really just pacing to churn her thoughts. "Closing window sounds more right. Come alone... ey, if... it says 'where they uncaged her'.... maybe you're right, Blue. The docks? If the gates ain't say nothing, maybe the seafolk might've seen a thing or two."

She stops by the pouch, tilting her head to the side as she picks it up to plop it on the ripped paper to trap it there before idly inspecting the inside of the belt container. "Hmmm...?"

Khepri contemplates the assembled pieces, studying the incomplete words and lines. "A visit to the docks might be in order. It is questionable whether anyone could leave Alexandria unnoticed. Teleportation is still prevented in the city." It places a hand to prevent the pieces from blowing away.

"Sometimes, things are done in desperation, to avoid further hurt. Errors in judgement. Still, there is no evidence she killed that elf. Removal of the ears seems a ... curious action after the fact."

Slixvah blinks at the sight of what's in the pouch. And shudders, shaking her head as she holds a hand over it. One of the feathers on her arm lengthens to waft about on the wind, before it solidifies its structure and sinks into the pouch.

Daintly, the magic trick of a feather lifts the contents out gently. Putting on display a greyish brown severed elvish ear, pierced with a ring. "... yuck. Hey lovvies. Does, um, anyone recognize this?"

"They're still in town, in town! The mercenaries." Jay chirps, "they contacted me. They had a minor concern regarding a new contract they were considering. Wording was funny, they weren't sure it would get them liable for fixing a problem they didn't cause."

He looks at the other three, "They are probably still in town. I think I could find them. I could ask about the uncaging."

"It might cost, if they don't like her that much." His head bobs, "well, they might have invisibly flown over the walls, but the docks are a likely exit for normal people if the gates are ruled out."

"AH!" The bluejays wings spread out as he jumps back from the ear reveal. He stands stiffly, flapping slowly. "I should have expected that, after the newspaper reports. Nemori's ears are not pierced."

GAME: Slixvah rolls heal: (8)+7: 15
GAME: Jay rolls heal: (2)+3: 5

Khepri simply stares at the ear. "It appears to be the severed ear of a mul'niessa elf," it says flatly. Deliberately, it reaches over to gently take the ear from Slixvah, turning it over in its metal-clad fingers. "Piercing. Indeed, Integrity. At least we are assured that this is not your friend's ear."

The war golem holds it up, inspecting the ring through the ear itself. "If these belonged to the corpse in the Tornmawr he will not need them any more," it remarks.

The removal of the ear appears to have been done with something exceedingly sharp, as the cut is very clean. Almost surgical.

The ring, unfortunately, is a simple brass ring earing. It does have some passing familiarity to the style often worn by seafarers.

"They... they might want to staple them back on. His family. For a presentable funeral." Jay says, still a tad high pitched. He looks at Khepri, then Slixvah, finally Robert, "Adventurers do that, right? Have visitations and funerals like normal people. They aren't just... 'ah duck it, let 'em rot. Right?' Right?"

The skittish bird-man looks at his friend for reassurance. The deliberate, surgical removal has unsettled him.

The Cerenzan stops and blinks, folding the titan fist over his face and issuing a long sigh. "The ear came with the message," he sighs through the complicated contraption. Gears whirr and something spits steam behind his right shoulder when he drops his arm. "I just assumed after she went after..."

Robert frowns, frustrated with himself. "When she came out of the darkness she was furious and frantic. Terrified...

"I think we should all go see the mercenaries, IC." He scoops the helmet off the hook and secures his over his hip pack; it's too damaged to wear. "The dawn elf that brought her in." Blue eyes bounce between Khepri and Slixvah. "He had to be restrained-- kept reaching for his dagger." He grunts and shakes his head, muttering "'where we uncaged you.'"

A question for the bluejay: "What was his name? Vash? Did they say where to meet?" Three questions.

Slixvah lets the ear go over to Khepri, her letting the feather recede while her wings wrap idly around her. "Clean cut..." she notes quietly. "Prolly done after they were dead. Though, uh, Blue, I think elves are a lil' particular 'bout their ears. Staples might not be cultural thing for 'em."

A pause. "... gnomes might do that though," she jokes in the macabre, trying to lighten the mood. "Dunno Blue. I ain't travel with many folk. Though, I doubt most would leave ya to rot. Wouldn't look good on em."

She does sigh quietly, and cross her arms, idly looking at the ear and the trapped scraps of paper. She nods with Robert. "Yeah, was thinkin' the same. Ear came with the message. But... it's only one ear. Maybe the person who did the killin' has the other one? Some folk can be sick like that."

Her attention turns towards Robert. "... wait, what? What do you mean? What darkness?"

Head turns the other way. "... yeah uh.... that sounds like one sussy boy. Prolly should give him an ocular and verbal pat down, yeah?"

Jay's crest rises in alarm, "I forgot about that! The mercenaries would be at the Fernwood, or the Guild. If we're lucky."

His head jolts again, "Lucky penny. There was a coin, Charnese mintage, that a half-sil street person coughed up at her. He gave her warnings... I forget the warnings. What coins were found with the body, did those come in the bag too? Are they regular coins or charnese coins."

He pulls his briefcase around and starts rumaging around in it. "Where are my notes. Oh! The elf, he is called Kalenthal and he's a man of the people. The human mage is Vesper, and the human paladin is named Pol."

"Are those Kalenthal's ears?" His beak clacks.

Khepri tilts its head quizzically at Jay. "You have notes? Good. Record keeping is only second to punctuality in investigations like this." The war golem realizes it still has the ear, and opts to put it back in the pouch. "Most races do not approve of physical mutilation, and it is often the hallmark of darker powers."

It turns to Robert. "If you wish to locate your friend, perhaps we should be on the trail now. This could go cold all too quickly if she is in danger."

"Lady Nemori was attacked," Bob answers Slixvah, "by three other mul'niessa. One is in the Soldier's Defense under guard, another is in the jails, and a third escaped with her brother's staff.

"I think the ear belongs to the thief, IC," the Cerenzan answers Jay. "... I think this 'Kav' somehow found the thief, killed him, and took the staff. He's using it as leverage to get the lady outside of the city--" he nods at Khepri-- "since settling a vendetta inside the city walls is ill-advised."

The big suit of artifice is standing by the gate now and motioning for the others to exit. "I have a feeling Kaventhal isn't in the city anymore but maybe one of his coworkers can help us stop him from doing something foolish..." He sighs, again, still more than a little frustrated at himself for the initial conclusion.

"Oh. Oh! Oh that sounds plausible." Jay squawks, wings twitching. "We should find Vesper and Pol, and see... what they know. Allegedly."

Slixvah gives a long sigh and rights herself. "Right. Let's get a move on. Time is precious and all that."

She steps beside Jay, and holds her parasol over the two of them. "As the Khaz say, Let's rock."

Khepri looks at Jay bemusedly. "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."

At the Fernwood

The common room of the Fernwood Pub dominates the inn, spacious and airy because of the high, vaulted ceiling. Ornately carved beams of dark, polished wood form a lattice overhead, supporting the arched roof two storeys above the floor. To the right of the double-door entry is a spiral staircase, winding upwards to a balcony that rings and overlooks the main area. Large windows at this level grant an excellent view of the river to the west and colorful market stalls to the north and east. An air of coziness is salvaged by keeping the pub dimly lit; parchment-shrouded mana lanterns hang at intervals from the base of the balcony, nestled amongst lush, magically propagated ivy and ferns that grow over this false demi-ceiling and the struts that support it.

The bar is sleek and simple, comprised of meticulously polished black lacquer. Tables are set under the darker niches formed by the balcony floor as well as on the balcony itself. A few are deliberately sized to accommodate halflings and gnomes, but the majority are meant for human-sized individuals. A large common table is on the main floor, set before a semi-circular stage situated against the western wall. Beside it, with pipes mounted upon the wall and running up past the balcony and almost to the ceiling, is a refurbished pipe organ made to look like the one lost when the Fernwood was destroyed during the Merkabah Siege.

The Fernwood does not have swinging, saloon-style doors. It's got a nice heavy door that can keep out the foul weather, but not a fowl in leather.

>>SLAMM<<

Jay throws open the door so hard it slams against the wall as he rushes up to the bartender. "Bob! Bob! Hey Bob! Did you know my friend is named Bob too? Bob, meet Bob! Bartender, artificer. Oh wait it's better the other way, Bob the Artificer, Bob the Bartender, now all we need is Bob the counsellor."

"Have you seen Pol or Vespers?" The bluejay leans over the bar, whispering conspiratorily, "I got a meeting."

While the guild could likely have provided a mostly guaranteed location for the sought after mercenaries, it's possible that extracting that information might have been time consuming, frustrating, or both. That sort of information isn't just given to anyone, and a case would have had to have been made... and likely would have involved paperwork. So much paperwork. (Though Jay might possibly have been excited about that. Solicitors.) The Fernwood is the more direct route, and the one chosen... the only risk being that the group could have moved, or perhaps even be staying somewhere else entirely, having used the Fernwood only for dinner and meeting with Jay regarding the job they had asked his advice on.

The direct route pays off. Though Vesper is not intially in sight, Jay and possibly Robert spot Pol straight off, sitting at one of the tables alone, going through what appears to be a ledger. He is out of his armour, but a shield and bound longword are propped against the wall behind him. Spectacles which seem a bit too small for his head perch upon his nose, and a hand idly rubs at the Vardaman holy symbol hanging from his neck on a simple leather cord.

He glances up when Jay makes his entrance, frowning briefly as he tries to place the egalrin... then his features smooth out when he recognizes the solicitor. Bob (the bartender) silently points in Pol's direction.

Khepri just stares after Jay as he goes busting in. Then it looks to Slixvah. "Does he do that often?" the war golem inquires, its head tilted in that quizzical, 'I am confused' way that passes for body language.

In any case, Khepri lets Jay handle the questions, at least initially. Instead, the yellow eyes sweep the Fernwood, looking for anyone who might be taking too much of an interest in the egalrin's dramatic arrival.

Slixvah quietly enters in behind Jay, her knocking the water off her parasol and folding it closed. It retracts into a small rod, and it vanishes into one of the many folds of her robes. It seems like Tegri has things handled. And getting information too, as she directs her attention towards where the bartender points off to.

"Yes," she whispers to Khepri. "He's an excitable humming bird. It's cute. Most of the time."

Getting through the door of the Fernwood isn't impossible but it takes some doing. Bob's gauntlet pushes the door wide and he bends his knees, plates clattering as he comes in at a low angle. Clearing the frame, he steps to one side and holds the portal open for an unaffiliated pedestrian.

What was meant to be a simple gesture of politeness becomes a prolonged and awkward task. The artificer holds the door open for longer than is natural and the rain starts to patter in over the threshold. He turns his head, glancing further into the pub and offering his likenamed barkeep an apologetic smile.

Finally, an ancient gnome with a white mustache hanging down past his belt shuffles inside. There's mumbled thanks and the little octogenarian is shuffling at his snail's pace towards a table. Bob lets the door fall closed and then moves to join the others... firing off a "working hard or hardly working?" at the man behind the counter.

Finally, he arrives at Pol's table.

"Oh right, there he is. Thanks Bob, beers for everyone please." Integrity slaps some coins down on the table. He peers at them, ensuring none of Charnese mintage are present, then slides them over for the order.

He turns and rushes over to Pol, halting and composing himself two paces away. He straightens his vest, dips his head and makes a sweeping gesture with his wing. "Sera Pol, we had some questions of great urgency if you could spare us a moment. We're seeking one of your companions and suspect some skullduggery."

"You... can probably guess which one." When a wizard is an issues there is usually an unsubtle explosion and half the city knows about it.

"Master Truefeather.." Pol responds in a voice unusually deep, gently closing his ledger and folding his hands over each other upon the table as he gazes at, and measures, each of the people having followed Jay in. Including the old gnome. His gaze lingers a little bit longer on Khepri along with a respected tilt of his head before he looks back towards Jay. "Perhaps you should speak plainly? My companions are not prone to law breaking, whatever they may say or look like." He sounds absolutely confident of that. But is it justified?

Khepri watches with that blank, impassive gaze, until Jay heads over to the right table. Then, it moves, stalking carefully through the pub with surprising grace until it stands over Pol's table. Picking up the last part of the conversation, it speaks, "There are questions about your compatriot, Kaventhal."

The war golem suddenly sits down on one of the stout chairs, the wood creaking a bit but holding. "If nothing else, he may have information related to an intrusion into Master Ilife's shop, and an assault upon an elven girl, Nemori." The inquisitor stares at Pol. "The church requires me to assist in this endeavor."

Slixvah chuckles at Robert's typical antics before she strides in behind the others towards the table. Despite her loud attire, she's quiet for the most part. Listening and watching, as she herself didn't really have much she could ask or prod about.

She dips a head towards Khepri. His line of questioning stole the words right out of her beak.

"'Master Ilife' was my father; Bob is fine," the Cerenzan asides to Khepri. Then, nodding down at Pol he adds, "The dawn elf was upset with lady Nemori upon your arrival in the city." The massive gauntlet reaches up, gripping his gorget as he leans forward to offer the Vardaman a clearer view of his face. He'd likely not made an impression on their brief meeting and the lumbering suit is far different than his casual streetwear.

"The lady has been helping me at my shop but disappeared," he continues. "We think Kaventhal is luring her out to where she was 'uncaged' and we'd like to stop whatever's happening before it gets out of hand."

Master Truefeather, aka Integrity, aka Jay takes a seat opposite the paladin, and distant enough from Khepri he won't get any feathers caught in things. He places his palms on the table and leans intently forward.

"The lady has also been dogged by misfortune, attacked twice, once by her family. There are a great deal of unknowns and things are moving fast."

"Do you know where Kaventhal is, what his plans for today were, allegedly?" The l-eagal egalrin seems very focused.

Pol is clearly not pleased with the accusation. Or, at least the implication. He takes the time, perhaps stalling as he mulls over the figurative mess he's been handled, to reach up and remove his spectacles, folding them and slipping them into a pocket sewn onto the breast of his tunic. Khepri's explanation is surely tugging on his duty strings, but there's clear loyalty to his companions at play as well. Not to mention his own judgement being called into question. Finally, "Kavanthal has a troubled history with the mul. He wasn't pleased to set that one free," he says. "I had my doubts myself. We stumbled upon them; they were carting your 'friend' off somewhere. We told them to stand down.. perhaps their claim on her was legal. But perhaps it wasn't. It behooved me to find out. Rather than cooperate, the hunters attacked us. In the melee... I don't know where she found the weapon. Perhaps she'd been biding her time. One of the bounty hunters got too close to her and she.. well, not all of the bounty hunters lived. But they chose their course. Turnes out they were intended to Charn.. I don't apologize for stopping it. Kaventhal didn't take it well, but he accepted it was the right thing to do."

Whether he has more to say is moot. Perhaps she heard the commotion, or perhaps it was mere coincidence that brought her out. A woman, likely Vesper, emerges from the pub's lodgings, quickly moving to the table when she sees the group assembled around her companion. "Pol.. Kav's still not back. I'm worried."

Khepri inclines its head. "It happens. We are sometimes pursued by our pasts, not as literally as it seems in Nemori's case." It cocks its head. "Where did you come across the team originally? There is evidence that Kaventhal might have sought to bring Nemori there."

When Vesper approaches, it turns to look at her, then looks back at Pol. "The sand trickles through the hourglass, Pol. Aid us. We may yet prevent a further tragedy here."

Slixvah put a hand on her hip and massages the side of her head. "Right... yeah that's a... certainly a setup for something..."

She's pensive, running through things in her head and almost missing Vesper rolling up. A glance to the to take them in, and another heavy sigh. "... this guy got any favorite spots they like to hang out on their lonesome?" she inquires, taking a shot in the dark.

There is a glance, from Integrity to Robert, when Pol mentions Nemori having a weapon and biding her time. His feathers ruffle, and he makes and effort to settle them. "Bob, can you show the part of the note."

He looks at Vespers and Pol, "You'd recognize Kaventhal's handwriting, right?"

The big Cerenzan just looms when the second mercenary appears, all-but confirming his suspicions. A thought occurs to him and he produces the scraps from a pouch, pushing them around in his palm until he has the largest. He sets that down on the table before the pair. "I imagine this is in your comrade's hand," he ventures, the plated thumb and forefinger pinning down the 'where we uncaged you' section of the note.

"... I'd just like to stop this before anyone else is hurt," Bob reiterates.

Having gestured to his companion by pointing one hand into the palm of the other, forming an angled 'T', Pol then lowers his hands to gaze at the scrap of paper. He's clearling listening to what everyone is saying, the concern some have for Nemori, the fervent wish to get to the bottom that seems, to one degree or another, within all of them. Vesper looks as well, having fallen silent at Pol's suggest. Stoney faced, even, upon realizing why the man and three egalrin (well, two, and one egalrin themed) are here. Whens he glances at the handwriting, she actually does a fairly respectable job of not seeming to recognize it.. only those fairly astute at reading people might have suspected anything. It is, however, for naught.

Pol is not one for such subterfuge. Clearly one of those people who is honest to a fault, he just takes in a deep breath and sighs. "There will be some kind of explanation for this. But yes, that... resembles... Kav's script. And the circumstance of it is... suggestive. And if it is him, we know of the place. We will take you to it."

Vesper immediately sucks in her breath, looking at the paladin as if betrayed. "Pol! You can't be serious!" But the expression he returns to her is not one of a companion.. it is about a paladin set on a course to seek truth, and if need be, justice.

Khepri stares at Vesper with those fathomless yellow eyes. "It might not be too late," it offers. "But whatever is transpiring must be ended. As ...Bob says, it would be best to stop this before anyone else is hurt."

It pauses, then continues, "In truth, perhaps more than one person can be saved if we act swiftly. I have no desire to see anyone consumed by their inner demons."

Slixvah watches on, grinding her beak. Sky blues squinted and watching the two of them. Where Vesper slipped her notice, Pol comes through and the fortune teller straightens herself up. "... Sorry it's like this. But... we gotta make sure ain't no one else gets hurt. Let's get a move on, lovvies."

She wraps herself in her wings, and takes a step back towards Tegri as she addresses everyone. "Maybe if we hurry, we can beat the coming rain, yeah?"

"I don't want to see anyone get hurt." Jay says, with absolute conviction and abhorence. Then, the lawyer kicks in, "We have no uncontestible evidence, no solid facts, only hearsay and conjecture."

"It's absolutely essential that reliable witnesses are present for whatever happens, so they can provide testimony and a deposition."

He thumps both hands on the table, "even bad people deserve a good defense and their day in court. Help us ensure that whomever is the alleged victim and alleged perpretrator survive to make it there."

Integrity stands, "It's... it's a lot better than... a dull day in court is a lot better than letting it get stabbed out. Let's go! Go!"

While others are making last-minute assurances, Bob is on the move. The hanging blue cloak with the Golden Dragon rampant flutters furtively in his wake. The dented bowl helmet bounces over his hip satchel. Little arcs of electric blue dance up his arm as the gauntlet closes into a tight fist.

A quick smile and a nod is offered to the barman and then he's pulling open the door and turning back to make sure others follow. "I have a spare coat in my bag if anyone needs it."

"It's at least three days travel," Pol says. "And that's if we push the horses hard." Then he rises.. and though he isn't dragging his feet, he's not showing any extreme signs of haste. "Gather what you need for an extended journey." As he gathers up his weapon and shield, Vesper folds her arms, the very look of defiance. "I am NOT selling Kav out, Pol. You know me better than that." This gives the paladin pause.. when he looks at her, it's like the others don't exist. At least for the moment. "I need you there, Vesper. Kav will need you." For that moment, he's not the paladin anymore.. he's the trusted companion of a group of three, one that is obviously tight knit. And it seems to be enough. She nods, then brushes her way back into her room.

Pol once again regards the four, particularly Khepri and Slixvah. "I don't wnat to see anyone hurt either," he promises them. "Any more than they already have been. By My Lady's Grace I hope that nothing has been done that can't be undone. To your friend, or mine. We will meet you at the northern gates within the half-bell."

-End Scene-