"Well, we should get some sleep," says Silvi. "In the morning we can find out what sort of shops they have here that might have sold ingredients and we can ask about any suspicious characters or purchases. And then we can interview the staff at the tavern, then everyone else who was present. Does anyone have some paper and a quill? Real detectives always have notes! And if we-" The gnome continues on like this for a bit, becoming increasingly enthusiastic about the whole 'detective' thing until someone else steps in to remind her about that whole 'sleep' thing.
Dawn came all too early after a night of grief. The Feedmill remained closed, and the townsfolk mostly headed out to tend their turnip fields, avoiding the caravan.
Silvi AC 13 HP 12/19
Trevor AC 18 HP 20/20
Galahad AC 18 HP 15/15
Hiromi AC 17 HP 17/17
Varen AC 18 HP 20/20
Lavina AC 19 HP 19/19
Jewel AC 16 HP 19/19
Hiromi did her morning stretching, and then went to find the others. She was happy to follow their lead, as she had no idea where to begin the investigation.
A tired Silvi yawns as she pulls herself out from under the covers of the over-sized bed and prepares to face the day. Sleep had been less restful than she was accustomed to, an uncharacteristic shadow cast over her dreams by Bort's murder. A quick wash with a bucket of water and soap helped sort her out a bit, then she put on her fresher set of clothes, similar in colour and style to the first.
To an observer it might have seemed that she morning routine did not include much in the way of traditional prayer for a devout follower of a goddess. But the gnome had her own peculiar way of communicating with Desna, her thoughts drifting towards the teachings of the goddess as she carefully styled her hair - today in loose, intricate braids carefully woven up into her hair so that no loose locks hung down past the base of her hairline.
"Time to get started! Detective Silvi is on the case!"
Galahad had made a point of vathing the evening before, now as he came down, there was a thin sheen of sweat upon his brow. Apparently, this place was a bit warm for his liking. He ordered his breakfast and sat down at a table in a corner where he pulled out his alchemical tools and proceeded to brew up a handful of fresh potions. In the end, he'd completely forgotten the food until the work was done. The rolls were cold, and the sausages had been made off with by a couple of the more industrious village children.
Once the work was done, Galagad looked at the plate with a small frown and then shrugged and started to eat it anyways.
After the group of travellers has assembled, Silvi exclaims, "First things first! The murder weapon was Bort's porridge, laced with Violet Breath as it was. We should make a list of everyone who had access to the porridge - before the fight, during the fight, and after the fight. Then we can begin eliminating suspects in stages." The gnome takes a moment to look at the plate Galahad is eating from. "Say," she says, "Has anyone else who has been served, or serving, food here experienced any coughing? If the poison was introduced to the porridge before being served there may have been contamination elsewhere, even though not enough to lethally dose anyone else."
"No one will suspect a halfling if they inquire into food, so I'll ask how the food is typically prepared - and have a look around the kitchen while I'm at it. If anyone would care to join?"
Galahad shrugged and finished the rest of his sausage. "If this had been poisoned, I'd already be sick. That said, I would like to see what, if anything there is to see about the former local apothecary shop. In the meantime, perhaps I can contrive a test to see if anything else is contaminated with the poison used last night.
Any chance that Galahad can use his alchemical skills to create some sort of 'test strip' or the like?
Etran’s Folly (Plaguestone)
Summer/Day 2/0800
Weather: 10 degrees cooler than normal (warm), no wind, light rain
Round 0
Feedmill/Kitchen
It wasn’t hard for Lavina (and anyone with her) to get access to the Feedmill kitchen. Delma, the owner, stopped by in the morning with breakfast for them from her own home, since the Feedmill was closed up after the murder last night. She led the halfling monk around the back to the kitchen door and let her inside.
The kitchen contained the cooking utensils needed to operate the Feedmill—kettles, skillets, knives, a mortar and pestle, roasting spits, a sieve, and a butter churner. Of particular note is the kettle of turnip porridge sitting on the counter, next to Bort’s large bowl. Although the remnants are starting to dry out.
You notice an unusual, faintly floral, smell in the porridge remaining in Bort’s bowl. Checking all the herbs in the kitchen doesn’t uncover a match, nor is the smell similar to that of ground clove and anise in the mortar and pestle that was used to spice the dishes.
Old Apothecary
Galahad whipped up a quick and simple test for the poison, then found a farmer heading out to his turnip field to show him the old apothecary. As they walked, the old man chatted. “Aye, the apothecary Silwyth Eldara was an elf, she was. Bloody woman did piss-all ta stop the plague that ravaged through here. Just sat in her hut brewin’ up her potions.” He spat on the ground. “When she caught the pox, it served her right.”
They passed into a part of the village where all the homes appeared rundown, damaged. No one appeared to be living in this section of the village. They stopped in front of one of the small buildings. It wasn’t really a shop, but another home. “That’s where Silwyth and her daughter lived,” he indicated. “Ain’t no one lived there since the girl disappeared seven years ago. Good riddance.”
Silvi AC 13 HP 12/19
Trevor AC 18 HP 20/20
Galahad AC 18 HP 15/15
Hiromi AC 17 HP 17/17
Varen AC 18 HP 20/20
Lavina AC 19 HP 19/19
Jewel AC 16 HP 19/19
