[IC] Graveyard Shift: Session 1

Scene: Argus Inquiries, Foyer


It's barely mid-morning, but the heat is stifling. It's been an unusually hot summer in Nornholt, and the faint breeze through the windows does little to take the edge off the heat. A fly buzzes across the chamber where Lady Calypso Argus likes to hold her meetings. The thought of all six of you cramming onto the benches around that table makes the heat feel even more oppressive.

A few of you eye the door. Lady Argus asked each of you to meet her here today, this morning, and she's not generally a woman to keep people waiting. The six of you know each other by reputation if not due to a shared investigation at Argus Inquiries; the company has any number of inquisitors in the field at any given time, so some of you have worked together, while others have not. What you have in common is the knowledge hat Argus Inquiries is a tight operation, and Lady Argus a stern overseer.

The fly lands on the table. It jerks forward and backward in fits and starts.

Perhaps some conversation might make the wait less disagreeable?

Standing in the middle of the room is Mengus he is reading a philosophy book

With plans made, you weave your way through the side streets of the Middle City until you reach the Procession Road, Nornholt's main thoroughfare. The heat is much worse in the direct sunlight, so you do your best to stick to the shade of building overhangs. At the main road, you split into three pairs to cover more ground before your rendezvous with Olarie Dribbage: Nekurr, Mengus, Hildar, and Barvek turn west, while Nera and Tronus go east toward the Lower City.

The four of you heading west dodge chickens and horse carts until you reach the Fauton Gate that opens into the Upper City. Passing through, the traffic continues, but the buildings grow appreciably more opulent. Sticking to the shade costs you a bit of time, but after about a twenty-five-minute walk, you reach Nornholt's Central Plaza, the town's nerve center and administrative nexus.Mengus & NekurrMengus and Nekurr have little trouble finding Saint Durvin's Cathedral: The whitewashed walls of the cathedral tower higher than any other structure in Nornholt, and the blue-green tiles of the dual-domed roof reflect the morning sun and remind you of how hot you are. You notice a handful of supplicants flowing into and out of the main sanctuary, either seeking the blessing of Nornholt's patron deity or just some refuge from the unrelenting sun. You also spot one of the resident monks entering the structure through a smaller side entrance.Barvek & HildarA short distance away, Hildar has to nearly jog to keep up with Barvek, whose familiarity with this area compensates for his shorter strides. Barvek, you know the guardhouse well; the wood-and-stone structure serves as both the headquarters for Nornholt's city watch and constabulary, as well as the common area of the barracks where many of the guards live. You have mixed feelings about being back here, Barvek--after decades as a city guardsman, you're now an outsider, at least in part. You sop the sweat from your brow with a handkerchief as you decide what to do.Nera & TronusAfter your four colleagues leave for parts west, Tronus and Nera, you two turn eastward for decidedly downmarket digs. You soon reach the Damar Gate, the portal from the bustle of the Middle City into the slums of the Lower City. Two guards hunch in the shade of the gate and eye you carefully as you pass through, no doubt curious what business a Dwarf and a Catfolk have in this part of town. You know that the gate remains open until sunset, when it closes to keep out the crime for which the Lower City is notorious.

The security checkpoint only slows you slightly, so within ten minutes, you're at the edge of the district. The scenery changes. The horse carts and wagons move more quickly, as if their drivers are worried someone might hop on uninvited. And while there are a few permanent structures along the Procession Road, you see that most of what passes for architecture here is little more than shacks and shanties.

Children, chickens, goats, and washerwomen alike move from one source of shade to another, dodging mud puddles as they do so. Meanwhile, beggars and itinerant merchants ignores the heat as they panhandle and hawk their wares. You can only imagine what other sorts of things are going on in the darker alleyways beyond immediate view.

Despite his protests, Mengus knows a thing or two about St. Durvin's Cathedral. Some nobody off the street might assume that the cathedral's small cadre of scribes might be the ones who would keep such records. But in his studies, Mengus has learned that most medium- or large-sized cathedrals such as this one appoint one of the priests to be the church treasurer. If there were a land transfer sometime in the past, the treasurer is the person to ask about it.

As Nera and Tronus discuss where to go, a horse-drawn carriage passes through the gate from the Middle City. The filigree of its craftsmanship and the barding of the horses suggest that whatever occupants are inside are not from the Lower City. Nera and Tronus barely dodge out of the way as the carriage plows through a mud puddle, splattering brown goo over anyone nearby. But then the carriage slows to a stop near the front of a quaint wooden shop selling lanterns. The curtain on the side parts, and a dainty hand extends with a bag of coin. A dirty-looking man in torn breeches takes the coin and hands over a bundle of something.

"You there! Stop!" Suddenly, two guards from the gate nearby are galloping toward the carriage. The driver whips the reins hard, and the horses he's driving take off toward the East Gate and out of town. The guards continue in pursuit, leaving the area unserveilled for the moment.

A rookie mistake, Nera knows: Whoever that was, they didn't belong here, so the guards had their eyes on them. She also recognizes the person the noble--or whoever it was--was buying from: a two-bit fence who goes by the street name "Gorzo the Bold." If anyone knows about a recently burglary, he's as likely as any.

Mengus also knows that the Church of Saint Durvin has some connection to the Priests of Kellos, but he can't remember exactly what it is. However, the Order of Saint Durvin is rumored to be a bit jealous of the Order of Kellos, since Kellos is by far a more popular deity across Terrinoth.

Gorzo the Bold looks you both over with a scowl. But then he nods and says, "I could eat." He gathers up his things and begins moving toward the south edge of town, zigzagging through the streets and looking frequently to the top of the wall between the Lower and Middle Cities -- no doubt looking for guards on patrol. Try as you might, he refuses to talk until you've gotten to his choice restaurant. Likewise, he refuses to say where he's headed. At last, you arrive at his desired eatery. You recognize the place as the only halfway respectable tavern within a mile, a place called Ferrick's Inn.

Once your food arrives, he takes a long gulp of ale and asks, "So what's this about?"

A kindly old monk informs you that the treasurer is called Gaerros Bargretor. The monk shows you to Bargretor's office, high in the cathedral's main tower, nearly at the top. This high up, a cool breeze wafts through, making this perhaps the most comfortable spot in the cathedral. The man inside looks young, but his features suggest elven heritage that belies his actual age. He listens politely to your introduction and pauses for a moment, eyeing you up and down.

"Well," he finally says. "You don't look like a priest." But at the mention of his office, you notice him crack a smile. "I'm glad you noticed the office. I find a messy office leads to a messy worker. Saint Durvin always understood that, which is why Kellos couldn't have overcome the Second Darkness without his help. As you no doubt know. Brother." You detect a slight sneer. "So you say you're here about the cemetery? On the old Dribbage property? Tell me that Vizeron Dribbage isn't trying to extort money out of the church yet again!"

As Barvek and Hildar enter the constabulary's main building, a gruff but feminine voice echoes across the room. "Barvek, you old devil! As I live and breathe. Tell me you're not so bored you want your old job back?" The Gnome recognizes the voice immediately: Barribelynn Bonebelly, a Dwarf who joined the guard about five years after Barvek did. With a bit of seniority, Barvek helped train the Dwarf in investigative tactics, and the two became fast friends (as immortalized in at least one Upper City tavern, which now sells a liquor called the Bonebelly Gnome). Since his retirement and subsequent employment at Argus, Barvek's ability to grab drinks with Barri have basically evaporated. But seeing her fills the Gnome with glee. She then nods to Hildar. "And tell me -- who's this tall drink of water. It's hot out. I could use a drink of water."

Nekurr wracks his brain to remember how Saint Durvin is related to Kellos, the god of fire who defeated the undead of the Second Darkness. Try as he might, he can't recall the connection. However, he does recall that the colors of the two deities differ, and there's some symbolism behind the distinction. He adds an offhand comment about how the blue and white of Saint Durvin have always seemed more intriguing than the boring red of Kellos.

The treasurer seems to consider you both for a moment. "Yes, of course. Which would you prefer? Mere fire, or the lightning that sparks it?" He squints and regards you for another moment. "There are no rents regarding the Dribbage property. The bequest is quite clear on that front. Our disdain for Mr. Dribbage stems from... other matters. But you were sent here by Vizeron Dribbage's niece? What on earth for?"

Gorzo slurps down a long noodle from his bowl before answering. He then looks both of you in the eye warily. "The big house by the cemetery?" He chortles. "Hardly. No one'll go near that place. Why? Someone finally bit the bullet and burgled the old house? I ain't heard nothin' 'bout that."

The treasurer scoffs. "I assure you there is nothing confusing or complicated about the church's claim to the Dribbage cemetery." He rummages through a leather folio on a shelf behind him for a moment and produces some documents. He lays the first flat on the desk. "As you can see here, this is the original statement signed by Captain Bentolin Dribbage over two centuries ago during the Third Darkness. Not so much a bequest, mind you; more of a writ of understanding." He then lays out a second document, this one with different signatures. "And here we have the most recent document acknowledging the transfer of this agreement to Vizeron Dribbage, current head of the family."The monetary impetus for Vizeron Dribbage's niece to take over the property seems much clearer now. Due to a curse dating back to the Third Darkness, the farmlands around Nornholt have been unproductive for centuries. The fact that the family gets paid by the church for the cemetery thus means that their property is among the most expensive for miles!

As you peruse the materials, Bargretor can't help but grin. "You're being quite mum, but I take it from your comments that Vizeron Dribbage may no longer be with us? I look forward to signing a new one of these with this niece of his, then. I mean, after what he pulled after he got booted from the Order... But I've said too much on the matter."

Gorzo looks again to both of you in the tavern. "You lot ain't gonna eat or drink nothin'? Feels like I'm eatin' me last meal." He gulps down some ale and says, "Haunted. Place is haunted. Well, least the graveyard is." He shuffles on his stool, turning his body away from you as if annoyed.

Bargretor folds up the documents and puts them back into their respective folios. He gives a thin smile. "I'm afraid the church can't comment further on the Dribbage property if there's a possibility that its ownership may be changing hands. I wish you luck in your investigations." He glances sideways at Mengus's large, unsheathed sword. "Please be careful on your way out. This is a place of worship. Good day."

The man smiles and turns back toward you a bit. "That's the spirit! I knew you was from 'round this way. Knew you'd appreciate this place!" He waits for the food to be brought and wipes his whiskered face with his sleeve. Once Nera starts eating, he looks to the floor, then to Nera, making eye contact with a grave expression. "Look, alls I know is that about ten years back, a burglar called Rednose thought he'd make a quick score on the old cemetery place. Bloke ended up raving in the gutters that night. Said he seen the dead all moving 'round the graveyard wot they shouldn't. Said they wasn't even human no more. Poor sod didn't make it through the night. Least that's what I heard."

Gorzo drains the last of his ale and belches. "Look, I got a business to run. I'd best be on me way. You done with me?"

The fence looks like he's getting ready to stand up, but his eyes widen at mention of the brigands. "I've heard some rumors, yeah. Supposed to be the leader of some band of highwaymen who used to run the roads 'round here. The Moon Cutters or somethin' like that." He hops off his stool, enveloping his feet in the dust of his own boots. "Bad for the likes of us is what it is," he says, looking at Nera with a conspiratorial stare. "Hard to sell anything in a crossroads town if folks too scared to come to town in the first place." He gives Tronus an approximation of a bow and says, "Now if you'll excuse me..."

Mengus and Nekurr, as soon as you exit the Saint Durvin Cathedral, you are struck by the intensity of the midday heat. You rush across the plaza to buy a quick bite to eat from a dried-meat vendor. Rather than face the heat a walk would entail, you wisely opt to hire a wagon-driver to take you to the Royal Library of Cailn.High-set windows let in some fresh air to a clerestory above your head. However, you get the impression that the main stacks are located on the ground level, and you don't feel any circulation here. You can already feel the sweat beading up as you consider where to look and what to look for. A well-dressed dwarf sits behind a desk and fans himself while holding his beard up with his other hand. There are no other patrons at this time of day.

Mengus and Nekurr spend about an hour poring over the stacks looking for works on local history. You find a multi-volume history of the Barony of Cailn, but it doesn't say anything about the Dribbages as far as you can tell. The book does confirm some of the details you learned at the cathedral: During the Third Darkness, Cailn was ravaged by dragons and their allies, leading to massive civilian casualties. With nowhere to put all the bodies, the various churches, including the Order of Saint Durvin, struck deals with local land owners to allow them to bury the dead on private land. One passage catches your eye:

"The Elders of the Churches, eager to avoid another Plague of the Undead, as Terrinoth had suffered during the Second Darkness, instituted firm Protocols to ensure that the Dead of these Cemeteries were faithful, honest folk, who received all the proper Rites and Burials, so as to prevent them from being raised from the Dead by any Evil-Doer, such as a Necromancer or unscrupulous Rune Lord, for Ever and Ever, Amen."

You realize that it's nearly time to rendezvous with the others at the Hill's Gate, so you head back outside into the afternoon sun.

At the constabulary, Barribelynn Bonebelly returns her attention to Barvek and sighs. "I'm on duty for another hour, then I get a break. Taverns and tales'll the to wait till then, old boy!" She purses her lips as if in thought. "In the meantime, give me just a moment. I'll see what I can do."

Barri disappears through a doorway. In her absence, the two of you witness the everyday procedures of the constabulary and barracks: guards leaving for patrol and coming in for breaks from the heat, a half-hearted session of spear-fighting practice by a group of new recruits in the courtyard, even a pair of humans brought in for disorderly conduct.

The dwarf comes back after about ten minutes. She looks confused. "Barvy, you say you're looking into a break-in at the old Dribbage place? The one by the cemetery? I just checked with our record-keeper, and this is the first we've heard of anything."

"Well, now, that is curious," Barribelynn says. "I think you've just given me the excuse I needed to take an early lunch." The ruddy-faced Dwarf turns to a fellow officer, an Elf Barvek recognizes, though he can't remember the name. "Trolvyn, cover for me. I'm checking up on a possible burglary." The Elf barely looks up from his parchment as he gives a cursory salute. Barri leads the two of you out the door and into the heat of the late morning. "How 'bout that old Fishmonger place we used to like? It's just 'round the corner."

As Nekurr and Mengus look for a cart to take them to the gate, a pair of old women pass, both dressed in vestments of Saint Durvin. "Another burial scheduled for next week," the first says.

The second answers, "I know, I know. I'm a bit sick of them to tell the truth. I've done three funerals this week already."

The first woman chuckles. "But you're the best! Somebody's got to keep up the wards against necromancy. Nobody wants to see old Uncle Chester wandering through town reeking of embalming fluid!" The nuns disappear giggling into the crowd, gone as quickly as they appeared.

The tavern is indeed nearby, and stepping inside is quite a relief from the hot street. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim interior, but Barri answer's Hildar's query: "Far's I know, most burglaries get reported, or we catch 'em in the act. Least in town." She finds a big, wooden table and takes one of stools. "We handle the farmhouses outside town, too, but most folks out that way have their own security--dogs, guards, and the like." She wipes her brow and leans back, thinking about the next words. "I'm actually pretty surprised someone had the guts to break into the Dribbage place. Most folk are too superstitious. Lotta folk think the cemetery's haunted, or a secret witches' coven. Every once in a while someone'll report that kind of nonsense out that way."

Barri nearly spills her ale laughing. "I'd forgotten about that cat case! Poor puss. I seen a few tracks out at the cemetery--goats maybe? But never any entrails!" Her laughter subsides with a sigh as she slurps a spoonful of mutton stew. "So when I asked about the burglary, my captain said Dribbage has been pretty quiet except for one incident, way before my time. Seems the guy spent a night in jail when he refused to leave Saint Durvin Cathedral. Guess he was a monk there for a time, but he got drummed out of the order and refused to leave." She shrugs and says, "Ain't heard a thing about his niece."

"Probably says something if he's been gone over a year without anyone saying anything," Barri says, brows raised. "Not many folk out that way, but he does have a neighbor, if I recall. Just up a pace down the road past the graveyard. The Stonebriars? Stonethorns? Something like that. They might know something."

As midday edges closer to mid-afternoon, you all wrap up your inquiries in the city and make your way to the rendezvous point at the HIll's Gate. It doesn't take long for everyone to spot the wagon Tronus and Nera have leased for the next few hours that will take you to the Dribbage property. While this exit isn't Nornholt's most used, a small contingent of town guards does monitor comings and goings on the dirt path that winds northward from the city. As you await your chance to exit, you have a spare moment to touch base with one another about your individual findings and to consider further leads.

As Nekurr sits on the wagon, waiting for their time to exit the Nornholt, he look at Nera and starts to chitchat "How is the first day going? Any exiting findings?"

"You really have faith the younger folk would see everything we'd see?" Tronus turns a little surprised raising an eyebrow.

As Nekurr thinks about the possibility of magical items in the room, he hears a thud and realizes his holy symbol has somehow fallen out of his pocket. Across the room, he hears a wooden rattle and sees that Hildarr's wand has rolled out onto the top of a crate. Everything else in the room seems to be in place.

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From this vantage point, Tronus isn't able to ascertain much about the crates; they seem a decent size, but for what he can tell, they may have only been used to store linens or other light-weight items. They do bear a stamp on them that seems to be the mark of a shipping company of some sort.

During their search of the premises, Nera and Mengus do notice a couple of things that seem to be added by the lady: The first is a fancy-looking vase of fresh-cut flowers sitting on a small table. The second is a wrapped bundle of clothing with patterns and fabrics popular among young women in the Free Cities. Signs suggest Lady Dribbage intends to stay in the house permanently.

As he scoops his holy icon back up, Nekurr notices a discolored rectangular patch of wall over the mantle, as if there used to be a painting of some kind hanging there.

Finally, Barvek doesn't see anything that suggests a break-in, at least not in this room. Yet he does overhear the distinctive whistle of the lady's teakettle from the kitchen. It's one Barvek recalls from a case long ago involving a person with very discerning tastes in tea. Perhaps Lady Dribbage or her uncle had the same appreciation for fine teas?

Nera spends a moment contemplating the painting.

Nera makes a quick scan of all six shelves, drawing upon her expertise at spotting things out of place, an instinct honed over too many years of life on the fringe. As she searches each shelf in turn, she gets the impression that none of them holds any secret doors, latches, or the like. The books and scrolls are organized by subject. Most of the shelves, she notes, are completely full, with books from one end of the shelf to the other and no gaps. However, one of the middle shelves seems to have some books missing.

As the Catfolk looks more closely, she notices something strange: Someone has tracked dirt into the study, with a clear footprint right below the gap in the bookshelf. As she bends to look closer, though, Nera accidentally bumps into a pedestal holding an ornate, sculpted egg. The marble stand wobbles just enough to send the egg falling toward the ground...

Barvek carefully inspects the window, running his fingers along the windowsill, tapping on the panes of glass, and testing the latch. Everything seems intact. But the latch seems very simple, just a bar that sits on a hinge. It would be quite easy to jimmy open from the outside with just a piece of wire or even a thin twig. The window looks out directly onto the cemetery, with only a drop of about three feet to the grounds below. In short, it would have been quite easy for someone to come in and out this way.

Even more tantalizing, the former guardsman notices several dirty footprint like the ones Nera noticed over by the shelf.

Hildar repeats the magical motions he performed in the drawing room. Sure enough, he finds his hand pulled by the wand yet again, as if it were some kind of divining rod. The tip points directly at the empty spot on the shelves that Nera has identified. As he approaches the shelf, Hildar can see that no matter where he moves his hand, the wand settles once more on a single book lying flat in this gap within the volumes.

Just as he gets close to being able to read the title, Nera bends down to inspect something on the floor. The Catfolk bumps a marble pedestal, which begins to topple. Nekurr happens to be standing nearby and swoops in to grab an ornate egg sculpture, now plummeting toward the floor. The Half-Catfolk's reflexes prove a bit too slow, and the egg hits the floor and shatters! Even worse, everyone nearby can now see that the pedestal is about to topple over, as well. Its impact would certainly damage the ornate tiling on the floor...

The sound of the shattering egg echoes through the study. However, the large number of books in the room muffle the sound at least a bit. You're not sure if Lady Dribbage has heard the din from the kitchens.

Nera: Fortunately, Nera stops the pedestal before it can hit the floor. But the solid marble pillar is heavy--the lithe Catfolk is not used to such heft. She manages to right the pillar, but the effort seems to have caused her to pull a couple of muscles in her left arm.Tronus: Meanwhile, Tronus has been carefully inspecting the desk in the corner of the room. It seems that Vizeron Dribbage made frequent use of the desk, as the surface holds an inkwell, several quills, an oil lamp, and a datebook that might warrant further scrutiny. Beyond that, the desk only has one apparent drawer, which the Dwarf finds to be locked (with no key readily available). The fine workmanship of the woodgrain catches Tronus's eye, and he traces the contours of the desk's sides. In the process, he sees what looks like a gap in the woodgrain. It's suspicious enough that the Dwarf pulls on either side. Ah ha! A hidden drawer. Tronus finds some yellowed papers inside.

Hildar: Hildar grabs the book his wand has identified in both hands. The volume has a satisfying heft and supple leather binding characteristic of magical tomes. The spine and cover bear a title in a script that looks familiar somehow...

The bust, as far as Tronus can tell, seems perfectly ordinary. It's sculpted from marble, features a human man of about middle age, bearded and looking quite solemn. A thick coating of dust suggests that the bust hasn't been touched in quite some time.