InVinoVeritas
Adventurer
Perrin picks up the pocket watch. The glass is cracked, but it appears that the metal case took most of the beating. The innards have bent out of the watch, and a tinkling sound comes from inside as he holds and moves it around. Springs and cogs jut out at odd angles, yet still the watch face holds the time transfixed at one second before midnight. On the lid of the watch, there is an inscription in a circle, in the runic language of the gnomes.
Father Breman carefully examines the neck. The wound is crude, jagged, as if the head were crushed and torn from the body in the maw of a great beast. Yet, he notices more. A slender cut travels from the neck to underneath the body's shirt. Fr. Breman motions for Torhan to assist as he carefully undoes the vest's buttons, unlaces the tunic, and peels back the red-stained fabric. Torhan gasps as the body's chest is revealed. It is covered in Gnomish runes, strange symbols, lines drawn to connect certain points on his torso. Fr. Breman pauses, and looks back to Hieran. He waves them on. "Alchemical formulae. They will be a simple matter to decode. They are magical, but they pose no harm. Do continue. Just... be careful to preserve them."
The scalpel incision extends down the chest, and the skin readily peels back. The ribcage underneath has a few snapped ribs, lying in their proper place, but carefully severed from the ribcage. Fr. Breman looks closely at the ends of one of the ribs--these cuts are much more careful, nothing like the carnage at his neck. After taking out the severed ribs, the reason is clear. The heart has also been removed.
Torhan takes to examining the rest of the body, and as his clothes are peeled back, the markings continue, covering him from head (well, neck) to toe. And at his toe, something more. Stuck in his left foot, poking through his shoe, is a tiny fragment of what looks to be a broken spear. No more than an inch in length, the head and shaft of the spear are formed of metal and wood, and even polished.
Gis turns to Hieran, Ru, and Darian. "The body was found a few minutes after midnight. Enforcers were called to the tower, where the body was found hanging by a leg from one of the chains. The path of the chain would have taken the body into the tower bells in the hour, so the body was confiscated and brought here. We also brought a witness."
Gis moves over to the far wall, and explains, "I should warn you, the gnomes do not hold our traditions. Their ways appear strange, and they are in the midst of celebrating the Gnomish New Year. What you may see... is different."
He lifts back a curtain. Behind the curtain is a window, and through the window stands a small, young gnome. Her back is to the window, and a pair of long, flaxen braids hang from her head. She would barely come to your waist. Her clothing is surprisingly simple, very dark and close-fitting, concealing delicate limbs. She looks up, and turns toward the window. You try to see her face, but are met with an elaborate mask in the shape of a butterfly. Wings made of dyed feathers extend from the holes for her piercing ice-blue eyes. Veins and scales on a porcelain backing make for an exquisite piece of art. She looks up at the figures at the window, and in a small voice, very young, and very haunted, pleads, "Excuse me, sirs, but could I have a glass of water?"
Father Breman carefully examines the neck. The wound is crude, jagged, as if the head were crushed and torn from the body in the maw of a great beast. Yet, he notices more. A slender cut travels from the neck to underneath the body's shirt. Fr. Breman motions for Torhan to assist as he carefully undoes the vest's buttons, unlaces the tunic, and peels back the red-stained fabric. Torhan gasps as the body's chest is revealed. It is covered in Gnomish runes, strange symbols, lines drawn to connect certain points on his torso. Fr. Breman pauses, and looks back to Hieran. He waves them on. "Alchemical formulae. They will be a simple matter to decode. They are magical, but they pose no harm. Do continue. Just... be careful to preserve them."
The scalpel incision extends down the chest, and the skin readily peels back. The ribcage underneath has a few snapped ribs, lying in their proper place, but carefully severed from the ribcage. Fr. Breman looks closely at the ends of one of the ribs--these cuts are much more careful, nothing like the carnage at his neck. After taking out the severed ribs, the reason is clear. The heart has also been removed.
Torhan takes to examining the rest of the body, and as his clothes are peeled back, the markings continue, covering him from head (well, neck) to toe. And at his toe, something more. Stuck in his left foot, poking through his shoe, is a tiny fragment of what looks to be a broken spear. No more than an inch in length, the head and shaft of the spear are formed of metal and wood, and even polished.
Gis turns to Hieran, Ru, and Darian. "The body was found a few minutes after midnight. Enforcers were called to the tower, where the body was found hanging by a leg from one of the chains. The path of the chain would have taken the body into the tower bells in the hour, so the body was confiscated and brought here. We also brought a witness."
Gis moves over to the far wall, and explains, "I should warn you, the gnomes do not hold our traditions. Their ways appear strange, and they are in the midst of celebrating the Gnomish New Year. What you may see... is different."
He lifts back a curtain. Behind the curtain is a window, and through the window stands a small, young gnome. Her back is to the window, and a pair of long, flaxen braids hang from her head. She would barely come to your waist. Her clothing is surprisingly simple, very dark and close-fitting, concealing delicate limbs. She looks up, and turns toward the window. You try to see her face, but are met with an elaborate mask in the shape of a butterfly. Wings made of dyed feathers extend from the holes for her piercing ice-blue eyes. Veins and scales on a porcelain backing make for an exquisite piece of art. She looks up at the figures at the window, and in a small voice, very young, and very haunted, pleads, "Excuse me, sirs, but could I have a glass of water?"