"You are indeed the soul of civic responsibility, friend Marco! If you could also provide us with names of unsavory or unusual individuals connected with the murderous missive, my master would greatly appreciate it. Especially if you write the names on a palimpset, using that amazing golden ink."
I mean... you know it's D'Rawth, right? So, ah, I'm sure you can have find the bodies and link them to him, and then you'll have solved the case before he kills anyone else. The halfling's voice rises several panicked octaves at the end.
"
Marco, this is a great help, thank you!" Tander reaches over to pat the halfling on the shoulder, and then, thinking this might seem a condescending gesture coming from a human, gives a polite bow instead. "
The more information we have, the better chance we have to deal with our little problem."
[sblock=Diplomacy Aid Another]
Aid another diplomacy 21
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Marco seems to become aware of his extreme importance, rising up on his little stool.
Well... unsavory... it would depend I suppose, on how you define unsavory. I mean the whole business is a tad inappropriate really. Not that I don't maintain the highest standards.
But well... the Screamer doesn't come from.... well... it appears unusually. You know, different locations, different times, sometimes it's wet. You know.
I have an arrangement.... he looks over at the window... or rather at the blinds pulled over the window. I suppose it doesn't matter anymore.
There is a gang, call themselves the Roots. Sometimes it's the something roots. Like the Resurgent Roots or the Resilient Roots. Halflings mostly, street kids really. I hear they operate out of Undergrowth.
Very good suppliers, consistent. A bit greedy but... not unreasonable. The screamer needs to be prepared quickly, or else the quality degrades. The serious buyers, they're somewhat savvy. If the screamer doesn't get to the right sort of scribes... everyone loses.
So they need access, to scribes, a lot of scribes really. People who'll make good copies; any time day or night. I've gotten woken up in the middle of the night, had to work all night.
Anyway, we had an arrangement. I'd help distribute them. Keep it quiet,
trade with the right people here in Cobblestop. I've been here a while, I know who's got sense.
Purely as a civic duty you know, to help the children. Give them some coin, keep them from getting into more serious trouble. Good practice for getting a proper job, later.
The last time, for this screamer, the halfling points to the paper in Woe's hands,
everything was unusual. Usually the screamer appears at different spots.
This time only one drop point, or so I'd heard. Right on their turf. And much fewer than usual. They had the lions share. Naturally I had to pay more, but... well... supply and demand.
As for anyone particularly unsavory? The halfling shrugs.
There were the usual sorts, people who buy every copy, or who buy whenever there's a certain kind of news. You know, gossip about the nobles, or certain kinds of nobles.
The guard came around, of course, same fellow as always, Axtius. He looked as worn out; made an effort. I always tell him, if the guard were as diligent chasing criminals as he is looking for the Screamer...?
[sblock=Woe]Axtius, or as you and the other older guardsmen called him, "Reddie" was a recruit. A half elf with a florid face and a habit of volunteering.
Volunteers are the village idiots of the city guards; looked down upon by everyone.
Reddie wasn't bad, but he had an offensive sense of optimism; the sort to wander around on a gray rainy day talking about how "you need to have bad days to appreciate the good ones".
He's exactly the sort of person to be put on "permanent" Screamer duty.
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And the, ahem, the halfling clears his throat,
the family in question, about whom that unfortunate accusation was made. They had people down here... Waving a lot of gold around, trying to buy up copies. All very late, the regulars had already purchased it.
Then, and I'm only telling you because this is an important investigation, I heard that another family came down, arranged to have fakes made, 100 new fakes, on nice, permanent Oian paper. I wasn't involved, naturally, obviously politically motivated.
[sblock=Arcane analysis]The screamer is handwritten, and then copied using a simple set of magical inks that normally only last a few days before turning into smear.
This copy was expertly treated, by Marco (you can feel his resonance), to make the inks permanent. Probably within a half a day of having been produced. The smearing has as much to do with the cheap quality of the paper as anything else, the producer is obviously not adept, or not particularly interested in permanence.
You can not help but notice there is an odd resonance down at the bottom of the page. There is a blank spot, an area where nothing appears to be written.
There is a very specific, very subtle resonance there. It's dormant now, but exposure to a certain kind of energy would trigger the effect. Whatever the effect is it's quite weak, certainly not more powerful than a cantrip.
The energy is illusive, quite difficult to detect, even a trained mage could easily overlook it. A poorer quality copy of the screamer, or one made permanent later after production might have lose the energy entirely; as it is its almost gone.
The energy itself is.... you're not sure if you've experienced it before. It's something exotic for sure (nothing prosaic like fire or force).
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He glares at Marco. "F-L-O-A-T-I-N-G Q-U-I-L-L."
Marco seems to snap out of his distraction. He eyes the case, smiles, and says "
The Phoenix Catchment? For you? A mere five hundred gold pieces."
[sblock=Marco's handwriting]The handwriting that Marco is using is not remotely similar to the writing on the screamer.
Of course, he's a scribe, and a fairly adept one. Scribes are copiers by trade, with a bit of time and a good sample he could almost certainly produce script in different styles.
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