Gameplay 1 - Red Vengeance

"Deaths," he answers unhelpfully. You can tell that the townsfolk are suspicious of something, and unwilling to easily open up.

"We are at the least intelligent enough to put that together we dont think you'd bury people still alive. Could you be more specific, I or we might be of assistance."

The bar keep grunts in a noncommittal manner, but leans close and says to those of you at the bar, "That be old John Prestwick, a merchant, they’re burying today. Died the night before last all sudden like, while walking back from this very inn. He was found in the street last morning, pale as a sheet."

"Uh Barkeep....was the man in good health? Or perhaps he just had too much to drink?"

The barkeep shrugs at your questions, unwilling and unlikely to answer. He does say, "You could ask about the village, I suppose. Maybe someone knows the answers to your odd questions."

Cecily resists the temptation to roll her eyes, turning around to survey the crowd for anyone with a reasonable amounts of wits about them.

"We shall ask, was the merchant local and did he have family in town?"

The barkeep doesn't answer, instead giving you dark looks. It is clear that the people in this town are spooked, and are suspicious of strangers.

If you want to approach some of the people in the inn, you can make another Persuasion check.

Altaan nods and shrugs before going to the closest person that makes eye contact with him.

"I've heard someone of your village has passed, these are trying times, they are dark I see, as someone not of this village I can understand the unwant of outsiders prying into such matter but even though that may be the case I would genuinely like to help and see if any ease to this can be given."

The table Ataan approaches takes him for his words, and explain a little: "Him dropping dead like that wasn’t natural. Folk are worried it might be the Plague, so they sent him on his way as quick as can be. The other graves belongs to James Carter, Thomas Muchly, and Nathaniel Drake, God rest their souls. All died the same way as poor John. Very mysterious."

Another one suggests, "Folks in these parts be superstitious. They reckon the Devil walks this village."

"Well I have a bit of skill in Medicine, maybe I can find out what the bodies are like and come up with a cure if it is a disease... I guess I will be on the look out for the Devil as well to be sure my friends. You have my thanks. I am Ataan Sezen if you know of someone else stricken come find me and I will see what I can do."

The villagers grunt an acknowledgment but fall silent, dubious as to the faint hope provided.

You've exhausted the information available from the local dunks. Where to?

Ataan lets the others know what he's found out about the four lost souls and their blight.

"After finishing drinks since one shouldn't waste alcohol, maybe we go to cemetery and find out more from people there burying the dead..." Sezen offer up.

That might be an idea, but remember, if it is the plague, we are all at risk.

"True or it might be something much worse... They say the Devil walks the village, it might be lower case devil maybe but still we don't know till we find out yes?" Attan admits with a shrug.

Gerald shrugs back. "If we're being honest here, I'd rather it was the devil."

"You do not know what you are asking." Cecily speaks in a grave tone, eyes staring directly into Gerald's. "Shall we?" She turns to grasp her now empty mug, scooting it towards the barkeep.

"Maybe he doesn't know the devil may have it's own forms of pestilence to bring misfortune... No one likes dying helplessly unable to fight back, disease take the weak and the strong, the old to the young. But we do need to know more to come to an answer yes?" admits trying to keep a bit of the peace.

"My apologies, Ataan Sezen, I know a bit of medicine and looking into puzzles and situations that need keen eyes and deduction." Attan states a bit embarrassed that he forgot to introduce himself to the others.

"Yes, let us be off then," Praise God answers Cecily. He downs the last of his water - Praise God is a teetotaler like all good Puritans - and makes for the front door.