[LPF] The Mightiest Weapon

Init:
Relic: 21
Dim Tiggle: 18
Bog Mallam: 12
Daylily: 11
Quioan: 11
Simp Tiggle: 6
Kazanto: ?

Relic casts his spell, which effects the larger man and one of the quicker to move brothers. Their eyes glaze over, though the larger man fights its effects. His companion is not so lucky, however, and moans before collapsing in a heap.

The leader looks back at the party and rushes forward trying to club Daylily, but misses badly.

Then an arrow from Quioan embeds itself in his arm (-4 hps to Bog Mallam). "Oi, they are playing for keeps!" The man drops his club and pulls out a short blade, but he and his remaining companion are quite shaken and willing to listen to Daylily's words.

Daylily interposes himself between the thieves and the party, with a placating posture. "I am sorry for the bad manner. You want stop and bandage before fist fightings?"

"I'm thinking I'd like to take you up on that offer. Though from the arrow in this arm and looking at the size of you, I must admit I'm feeling a bit of the fight taken out of me."

The party and the two remaining men stare at one another warily, until a voice from behind the group speaks. "Bog Mallam! Simp and Dim Tiggle! What in the name of Sapo are you doing?"

"Mimfred, that you? Oh hell... the boys and I had heard that ol' Frickard was dead. Seeing as he always had some good trinkets to sell, we thought we'd do a little side business and procure some valuables. Figured he'd not be needing it."

You can hear Gadral sniff in disgust. He must be at the top of the staircase and behind the party, also. "Gentlemen, these are members of the Craftsmen's Guild. Hired muscle and low ranking members, certainly, but still members. You can see what kind of men you are dealing with. If you want to run them through for their crimes, my guild will certainly be understanding of your decision."

Lowering his bow to half-ready, still wary of the men, Quioan smiled somewhat abashedly at Daylily.

[sblock=Elven]"Just keeping you on your toes, Daylily Falshenaya."[/sblock]

Turning to Relic, he added:

[sblock=Elven]"Once again, you astound me with your prowess with enchantments. And to think, I've always neglected their study."[/sblock]

Half-turning his head to address Mimfred, his attention still directed towards the still-awake pair before them, Quioan made no attempt to hide his irritation. "You know these men? I wouldn't have expected such sorts to be members of a respectable guild. I hope they haven't sullied any evidence or information we might have found."

OOC: Odd, I thought I saw a different init, but when I checked the two PCs did have an init of 11. I am changing the post above to reflect Bog's swing at Daylily before he was shot.

[sblock=Elven]"Ye went all nuttery for naught but a healthy brawl, Scorchsong. Mayhap it's not my place to say, but it seems to me that you're acting in the way of a man with colder stones than the Eagle of the High Winds. If I might offer a word, ye might consider finding yourself a woman to warm them some night. I reckon it would be a great relief to the rest of creation if ye did."[/sblock]

Daylily retrieves his hammer, clearly disappointed that the brawl has been called off. As Gadral suggests executing the two men, Daylily grows visibly annoyed. "There is no damn being need of killing! Why is people cannot damn have happy fight in peace? You is be quiet or I damn throw you over the stair! Damn!" he growls.

He looks around and snorts in irritation. "So ... where was deads person?"

"Not the stair, please!"

Kazanto brings up the rear, dragging her body up the stairs. "How are you supposed to benthe these? Umm... okay, legs. Oh! Hello! What are you looking for?"


[sblock=stats]
Kazanto
AC 21 / touch 13 / ff 18
HP 20/20
CMB +1 CMD 14
Fort +2 Ref +3 Will +2

Perception -1
Initiative +3

Oracle Spells 5/5
[/sblock]

"We look for sign of killer of dead man," Daylily explains, then shrugs. Waving a hand at Bog and the Tiggle brothers, he says, "These are thief of dead man, but Scorchsong is need touch of woman, so I could not punch them. And the fat merchants keeping talking, but it not civilized to punch them, even if I much want. And Elder Storyteller is for the thirds time better warrior than me."

He sighs. "So little punchings. So much looking around dead people."

Kazanto giggles. "Don't worry, Daylily, we'll find something to punch later. Or we can go hunting for more pork-monsters and bring the pork all the way back to Venza for us! How does that sound?"

The party enters the workroom, followed by the two men.

Gadral speaks up. "What? These men are thieves! Are you just going to leave them?"

It's Mimfred who answers first. "No, we just won't kill them. I agree that these men have broken the law. They WILL agree to stay here. They WILL accompany us so we can turn them over to the city guard after we are done here. I thank you for not killing any of them, and the Craftsmen's Guild will also thank you. However, they have brought suspicion to our organization, and it is in both guilds' interests to see them face justice."

Gadral thinks for a moment, but decides to hold his tongue after searching unsuccessfully for a retort. Finally, he decides to change the subject. "Let's have the investigators check on the murder scene. Mr. Frickard was found dead and hunched over his work table here, with a small blade having pierced his heart."

The room is nearly twenty feet square in size and taking up half the second floor. It is cluttered, with stacks of books and loose papers filled with notes on the floor. A number of strange wooden models of mechanical devices hang from strings from the ceiling. A large work table is in the center. An debris-filled fireplace is on the far wall. Much of the clutter and disorganization seems to have been caused by the searching men, harming your ability to look for evidence.

OOC: Where do you want to search?

Quioan shakes his head at Daylily's words, at a loss for how to respond. It's no use trying to convince that elf otherwise once he has it in his head. Instead, he busies himself by making his way over to the Frickard's work table, which he begins to inspect for anything out of the ordinary. Maybe his murderer accidentally left a trace of himself. As he searches, he asks the would-be thieves, "Did you find anything of note? Anything that perhaps wouldn't belong to Mr. Frickard?"