The Gray King

[Zurai]

Valerian, Elven Archivist

Valerian stands from his examination of the bloody spiral and shakes his head.

"I am certain that this is part of some sort of ritual . . . but as to which one in specific, I cannot say. That it was drawn with fresh blood from a dead man and coils against the sun may point to necromancy; alternately, it could have something to do with the lingering conjuration aura I detected earlier. This further points to some outside influence on the ethereal attackers. I do not think they have any propensity for spellcasting, although I get the feeling you would know that better than I, Arrgha'n."

He pauses for a moment, cocks his head, then pulls a sheet of parchment and a piece of charcoal from under his shroud and kneels down to examine the blood-spiral again. He very carefully reproduces the spiral for his notes, paying careful attention to every seemingly-ragged bend and curve, then stands up and tries his luck at getting information from the Watchmen.

OOC: Hey, it's some kinda ritual, right? Of course Valerian wants a copy!

After he's made his copy, he'll bring it to the attention of the Watch, then see what information he can find out about the 'kingsflower leather' and about what the Watch knows of this string of murders. All his social skills are +0, for the record, except for Sense Motive which is +2.

 

[FreeXenon]

Arrgha'n (Half-Daelkyr Kin-Hunter) HP:28

"They are not innately magical, beyond their ability to shift to and from the ethereal. Filchers are little more than gifted cutpurses and marauders are gifted carnivores."

If these creatures were working for someone they would have to enter the prime again to return the property. Perhaps we can find them by searching for any new people that have come into town in the last few days and prefer to be secluded, or left with a lot more than they came with; or if this 'happenstance' there may be an area in the town or outside of the town that has seen some strange activity in the last day or so. This may point to their lair. I will be back. I am going to do some searching." Arrgha'n's mind is moving trying to recall any methods that the Project may have used these creatures for and anything else that he may remember of them. He is even more suspicious that there is foul play at work here.


[OOC: I am going to search the immediate area outside for any incriminating tracks.

Then I will case the town (gather info) for signs of people who are new and suspicious to the area; ones that may also have left early this morning in haste and/or with a lot more than they came here with; Perhaps someone has sold armor on the blackmarket or something like that. Perhaps there was someone who wanted that special armor?

I will also search for any news of places either in town or outside of town that have had new and/or suspicious activity.]

 

[EvolutionKB]

Oliver, Human Binder

Oliver looks distraught at Yatrax. As her fingertips brushes his mouth he flinches slightly. No more secrets, not with this one at least. "What do you mean, 'when the crown allows'?"

"After this is taken care of, will you stay with me once again tonight? I want to spend the morning with you too," he adds his voice is low and whispering, but very serious, not playful like on previous nights.

After answering any more questions the people have. Oliver walks away, going to speak to the rest of his companions, inquiring what they found, saw, and any conclusions they have.

 

[stonegod]

The kobold is content to wait.

OOC: I'm at a conference this week. I'm checking in, but updates might be a bit sporadic.

 

[Erekose13]

The commander looks irritated in the extreme, though not with you. "He called you over because we didn't wany anyone else tramping around the crime scene. Proper proceedure, of course. Master Vorj says you keep to yourself primarily, a good traveler and hunter."

Predictably, Maavnod has no inclination for small talk. The commander looks over at the roof, and finally waves over a few of his officers. With some whispered conversation, they depart to return with a ladder and they start scouring the rooftops. After many long minutes they return, one of them holding something in his hand. He takes it to the commander, and they confer for a moment. Finally the commander turns and opens his hand to you to reveal what was found.

"This mean anything to you?" he asks.

The item is a piece of flat, twisted metal, a ragged spiral drawn on it in green paint, a broken loop of wire punched through one side. The one place you recall seeing a symbol like this before was... back home. Symbols like this popped up occasionally, usually connected to random acts of violence by some of the crazed inhabitants of the Wastes.

"Yes. It is the symbol of the demons of the Wastes. It is left after they have killed." replies Maavnod in his short and to the point sentences. He does not elaborate on how he knows or what conclusions he draws from the symbol. He is of course worried about the implications of these marks all the way out here. The physical boundaries and the work of the other Goliath tribes keep these demons in check. They are not supposed to be able to leave the confines of the Wastes.

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

He pauses for a moment, cocks his head, then pulls a sheet of parchment and a piece of charcoal from under his shroud and kneels down to examine the blood-spiral again. He very carefully reproduces the spiral for his notes, paying careful attention to every seemingly-ragged bend and curve, then stands up and tries his luck at getting information from the Watchmen.

OOC: Hey, it's some kinda ritual, right? Of course Valerian wants a copy!

After he's made his copy, he'll bring it to the attention of the Watch, then see what information he can find out about the 'kingsflower leather' and about what the Watch knows of this string of murders. All his social skills are +0, for the record, except for Sense Motive which is +2.

After asking a few questions, and having the officers do a little bit of a song-and-dance about who's authorized to say what, one of them, a short, bearded man by the name of Cord Colworn, says he'll talk to you.

"We appreciate the preliminary work you did. Not often that civillians can do such careful observation,[color]" he says by way of explanation. "And the way things have been going with these crimes, you're more likely to run into this again than we will. You know the direction it's been going? Nor'east to sow'est? Yar, though this is the first time it's hit a place this big. Everyone alone, each one locked in, it's uncanny. I mean, it's not the first time some rogue arcanist used summoned creatures to do his dirty work, but not on this scale, and not with the locked room bits. That usually says 'inside job' to those who speak the language, but all the victims have been strangers to each other. Nothing much in common except how they died. Aye, there's been some thefts, but the Master Tanner was the wealthiest of all the victims.

"And that kingsflower purple leather was a special job, a nice piece of dyework on some exotic hide. It'd be a nice sum, Kol Korran knows Orthos, he's the fellow who hired it done, paid princely for it. Some trophy piece from the west, the hide from some wretched critter out of the mountains or Mournlands or muffins or something. He'll be fair put out when he finds out it's gone." Barking behind him distracted him, and he turns to see what must be Kennelmaster Hog with the leashes of a half-dozen droopy-faced dogs. They strain at their leashes as one of the officers brought out some scraps of violently purple leather and held it for them to smell. After a bit of milling about, the dogs began to strain away, and the belabored Kennelmaster is drug behind them with several officers in pursuit.

However, considering that you're certain the filcher is probably on the ethereal plane, you doubt they're going to get very far. Sillies.

"They are not innately magical, beyond their ability to shift to and from the ethereal. Filchers are little more than gifted cutpurses and marauders are gifted carnivores."

If these creatures were working for someone they would have to enter the prime again to return the property. Perhaps we can find them by searching for any new people that have come into town in the last few days and prefer to be secluded, or left with a lot more than they came with; or if this 'happenstance' there may be an area in the town or outside of the town that has seen some strange activity in the last day or so. This may point to their lair. I will be back. I am going to do some searching." Arrgha'n's mind is moving trying to recall any methods that the Project may have used these creatures for and anything else that he may remember of them. He is even more suspicious that there is foul play at work here.


[OOC: I am going to search the immediate area outside for any incriminating tracks.

Then I will case the town (gather info) for signs of people who are new and suspicious to the area; ones that may also have left early this morning in haste and/or with a lot more than they came here with; Perhaps someone has sold armor on the blackmarket or something like that. Perhaps there was someone who wanted that special armor?

I will also search for any news of places either in town or outside of town that have had new and/or suspicious activity.]

As for the Project, Arrgha'n can recall no instant of intensive use of filchers or mauraders. Not that they weren't useful, but because they were virtually impossible to control. If they didn't like something, they could just plane shift away, and unless you had the ability to follow them, it was hard to keep tabs on them.

Commenting about the possible new person in town brought a few nods of agreement from officer Colworn.

"Aye, we got some of the junior officers checking that right now, but I'll be honest with ye, I don't expect them to find much. Anyone that can control these bugaboos can probably keep from being seen..." he purses his lips in sheer annoyance and distaste.

Regardless, Arrgha'n goes out to hunt for tracks or unusual peoples. Hunting for tracks in the usual places, he finds little of note. Knowing, however, that the spawn of Xoriat are not anywhere in the category of "usual," he climbs a ladder and checks the roof discretely, trying to find what he can between the tracks of the Watch that had been searching up here. There, he finds something odd. A few scuffs that may have been humanoid feet and knees, light and small. Probably not a human, certainly not an adult. Perhaps a child, gnome, or halfling. It looks like the person knelt here... they had armor, there were greave-marks. Next to them, a single three-toed print, bigger than his torso. A filcher foot. And then... nothing.

Going to ask about people, you ignore the places where the Watch already swarms; the travelers' inns and hostles, the gambling dens and festhalls. Instead you head for the dark places, the places where the officers would not go. The slums aren't that big in a town this small, relatively speaking, but there are a few places where the indigent gather. A few officers know the value of speaking to the poor, but perhaps their tongues would be looser with someone who didn't have to account for every copper coin spent in bribes.

Even with questioning and silver and gold spent to loosen tongues, it takes you time to find a begger that plies his trade near the guildhalls. A grizzled drunkard with a missing foot, probably a veteran, he speaks his piece only when lubricated with a deep bottle of gin.

"Aye, I was seein' sommat atop the guildhalls. He climbed up the walls, like a bug, dead of night and interrupting a man's sleep he was! Little thing too, big nose, but once he atop, I couldn't see him. Jes' slipped from sight, like he was invisible. Got the shakes just looking at 'im. Some inviserble Cyre wot took off my foot. Got the shakes bad, real bad, and had a go lie down. Affer that, got woke up by the screamin," he slurs, taking many more sips of gin to stead himself.

When looking for traces of the kingsflower leather, you have no more luck than the hounds, who come back, tails dragging, after a wild chase through down. The Kennelmaster looks annoyed and the officers that had been trailing him seem furious.

Oliver looks distraught at Yatrax. As her fingertips brushes his mouth he flinches slightly. No more secrets, not with this one at least. "What do you mean, 'when the crown allows'?"

Yatrax regards him steadily, her eyes dark.

"I don't believe I can tell you just yet. Know that I have some secrets. When I can, I will say."

"After this is taken care of, will you stay with me once again tonight? I want to spend the morning with you too," he adds his voice is low and whispering, but very serious, not playful like on previous nights.

"Of course I will," she says softly.

After answering any more questions the people have. Oliver walks away, going to speak to the rest of his companions, inquiring what they found, saw, and any conclusions they have.

After the failed attempt at tracking with the hounds and copious asking of questions by all, it is early afternoon. To say Master Vorj is displeased at the delay would be a gross understatement, but the Watch is insistant upon doing their duty, even when it's clear this mystery is quite bizarre. The group can rejoin to compare notes as Vorj begins another harrangue to let his clearly innocent caravan get on with traveling while there's still daylight.

 

[FreeXenon]

Arrgha'n (Half-Daelkyr Kin-Hunter) HP:28

Upon returning from his search Arrgha'n goes first to inform the group of his findings and then to Master Vorj.

"I found some other tracks on the roof - the Filcher and a small armored humanoid of sorts - wearing greaves. The Spawn may be assisted by these small armored humanoids - perhaps 'painting' their marks on the roof tops. I also have found of a confirmation of the Filcher climbing the building in the dead of the night and then 'vanishing' - going ethereal and entering."
Following that he awaits any more information that the constables or the rest of the group may have.

 

[Erekose13]

"A demon mark was found. It is green spiral on a piece of metal. This mark is from the Demon Wastes." says Maavnod, adding his own limited information to the group. "What are filchers?" he asks. He thought he knew the term, but it was generally associated with simple thieves. Such simple thieves did not 'go ethereal' or associate with demons.

 

[FreeXenon]

Arrgha'n (Half-Daelkyr Kin-Hunter) HP:28

He looks to the massive Maavod and says "Filchers are the Spawn of Xoriat. Mischievous creatures that are able to shift from this plane to another to get into locked places where they are not welcome to steal as they please.

Are you aware of any small humanoid groups that are active from this... Demon Wastes"

 

[Erekose13]

"No." he replies simply. Of the active groups in the wastes that he knows there are the demons and the barbarians. Heavens' know what those Demons might have cooked up in their foul pits though.