It’s a quiet day at the precinct. I’m trying to read the Flint Observer, but quickly hand it over to Felix—reading isn’t exactly my strength. Ayleen is late, which almost never happens, and strangely enough, she’s not in the workshop. Sarïa checks the locker room—nope, she’s not napping there either.
The Stove—you know, the Chief—calls the team together. He has fieldwork for us. A young woman has been defenestrated from the fourth floor of the Danoran consulate. She’s dead, impaled on the fence, and unfortunately, that means shared jurisdiction. The death is suspicious: the fence is forty meters from the window. We’ll need to be delicate and diplomatic—especially Staf, our somewhat traumatized veteran with a serious grudge against Danoran tieflings.
Right at that moment, Ayleen arrives—screaming for a medic. Her hand is completely crushed. Staf yanks her mangled hand back into place, and Ayleen promptly faints. Kane and Sarïa take her to the infirmary. The injury is severe—too much for a regular healing spell. Thankfully, Kane and Sarïa are experienced healers. After setting the hand correctly, they manage to mend it. Ayleen wakes up with a splint. She tells us what happened: three men ambushed her and smashed her hand with a hammer. They claimed she owed a debt to someone named Kjell. Ayleen has no idea what they’re talking about and demands we immediately raid this guy’s guild.
After a wild ride through the city—easy, Staf—we arrive at the consulate. Too late, of course. The body has already been taken off the fence. The scene can’t be investigated properly. Supposedly, two gunshots were heard. Witnesses have already been questioned and their stories align. The woman jumped from the window, and someone looted the corpse afterward.
Julian LeBrix, the consulate’s security chief, is waiting to brief us.
Just then, the ground trembles. An earthquake—in Flint! Highly unusual. Then again, there was a small tremor last week too. First in years.
We quickly inspect the place where the body was impaled. Nothing remarkable. A few witnesses are still around. They heard two gunshots after she jumped. She leapt with her hands covering her face. Another witness saw a dark figure at the window, then a well-dressed man with a goatee approach her, receive a bundle of papers, talk briefly, then rip a necklace from her neck before fleeing down an alley.
Three consulate personnel handled the body. Two removed it; the third came out and got into a heated argument, though the witness couldn’t hear what it was about.
At the consulate entrance, we’re admitted after flashing our RHC badges.
Julian LeBrix is an older man—clearly shaken. He had hoped to cruise quietly into retirement. The dead woman, Nilasa Hume, was a regular visitor. She didn’t work here, just visited one of the guards—her boyfriend—and brought breakfast for him and his coworkers. Apparently, consulate security is full of holes. LeBrix says he saw her head upstairs and followed her, suspecting theft. On the fourth floor, there’s a valuable exhibit: a tiara, a famous Fabergé egg, and more. He claims she was after minor items—golden cutlery and such. Before she could steal anything, he confronted her. She bolted for the window, and he shot her in the leg, reloaded, and then shot her in the back. Then she flew—forty meters—and landed on the fence.
When we ask for his weapon, he refuses. He wears it in a fancy holster.
While he’s distracted, Ayleen inspects the window. It’s completely shattered, which matches his story. LeBrix can’t explain how she landed so far away. He insists nothing was stolen.
Felix notices scratches near the lock of a different room—the consul’s office. We’re not allowed inside. Kane knocks. LeBrix loses it. He explodes with rage and threatens to throw us out—pistol in hand, furious. We back off and go to retrieve the body.
The guard who was her boyfriend is sobbing. He’s ugly. She was stunning. The whole thing reeks of manipulation. Classic spy case. They “knew” each other for six months. First night was drunk and wild. She visited regularly with food.
Back at HQ, we examine the corpse. The leg wound fits LeBrix’s story. The back shot suggests she was either on the ground or flying—the angle is extremely steep. The wounds from the fence are clear. A small cut on the back of her neck indicates something was yanked off—likely the necklace.
No tattoos or scars. We find a release note from prison—dated five days ago—and a receipt for 2450 gp worth of “drams.” with the initials D.W., It lists on the backside: Silvo, Feldman, Family Wharf, There’s also a small empty vial, and two chocolates meant for the guards.
Sarïa examines the items. Ayleen and Felix detect lingering magical auras. Some flight magic. Auras of transmutation, illusion, healing, and necromancy. The necromantic aura is strongest around her head. The empty vial held a potion of Invisibility.
We’ve never heard of Family Wharf. The name Sechim rings a bell—he’s a Skyseer. That’s all we know. We want to find out who paid for her release, so we head to the prison. But first, The chief demands a report. He suspects "Family Wharf" is a front for La Familia, a criminal guild from Crisillyir.
Kane has some harbor contacts who’ll look into Crisillyiri activity. At the docks, we take a rowboat—Gustaaf rows us out to the prison ships floating in the bay. They’re old and decrepit. We’re greeted and let aboard thanks to our RHC badges. Unfortunately, the release note came from the Parity Lake prison. This trip was pointless.
Kane knows the warden, Goodson, and asks about any Crisillyiri prisoners. Possibly, but he knows little. No tieflings are held here. Staf presses the issue—he’s desperate to know. His father is set to marry a Crisillyiri woman, after all. There is a merchant family doing business in the docks.
At the Parity Lake prison, we ask about the woman. The clerk, of course, tells us it’s 4 PM—no overtime. One gold later, he agrees to look. After ten minutes, he finds the relevant files.
Our search continues to the factory districts. The air reeks of chemicals. Workers are being locked inside, and women are protesting.
We find the workshop of Sechim. He’s not surprised to hear Nilasa is dead. His uncle—a known Skyseer—saw it coming. Nilasa was his adopted daughter. She had long been associating with Hannah Gale Soliogn, a fey terrorist. Nilasa wanted to fight for the factory workers’ rights and hoped to gain the support of this radical activist. Sechim’s uncle is apparently in contact with the same terrorist.
Sechim mentions a strange man came by recently, trying to buy strong acid. He reeked of burnt oil. Sechim refused. Later, two more people came asking the same thing—this time with threats.
In Nilasa’s room, we find an Elven language textbook.
