2. Beregost

Feldepost rocks back on his heels. "He what?" The proprietor's eyes are wide; it seems like genuine surprise. "I had no idea the man would do such a thing."

At Dieter's thinly-veiled threats Feldepost sputters. "I barely knew Tranzig. He'd pass through every month or so, but he always kept to himself—other than to tout himself as such a talented spellcaster. He implied that he worked under some authority and wasn't to be bothered."

"Hm.. so you’re saying he worked out of this room quite often then? Did anyone else come in with him this time, did you see anyone interacting with him?" Dieter questions further.

Feldepost rubs a hand over his face, a rarely-seen behavior from the man. "I can't believe this has happened. He left just as night fell—which is odd, for he never seemed to leave his room after arriving, until the morning he meant to leave."

The innkeeper starts then, having just remembered something. "He received a letter the other day. I didn't read it, of course, it was in a sealed envelope. But it might have had something to do with... this." He gestures all around.

"are you okay Feldepost? You’re not acting your usual self. Have a seat, these things can be overwhelming especially with the threat of retaliation. These assassins don’t like loose ends" Dieter says in a calmer voice pushing a chair out for the inn keeper. "I couldn’t imagine having a predator like this staying in my own home for months waiting to strike."

Feldepost seems to find some of his composure again. "Enough of that from you, Dmitri!" He crosses his arms tightly over his chest. "You *aren't* the Flaming Fist. Either finish your investigation or I'll have *them* remove you from the premises!"

"did you get all that Stella, Is there anything you want him to repeat? Fildproste, is there any final statements you would like to make or information you think relevant that we have not yet asked for?" Dieter asks in closing "Aiwë, Sheemish, Runeson did you find anything?"

Eyes on Dieter and his heated argument, Aiwë flips over all of the furniture in the room, leaving their backs and undersides exposed for further searching.

Feldepost raises his arms in panic as Aiwë roughly turns over the furniture. "No, those are worth more than you'll make in a... well, ever!"

A medium-sized bag of some sort falls from the overturned bed, as well as an envelope with a broken seal.

"sure buddy" Dieter strolls over to the letter and reads it. He then looks through the bag.

Dieter sniffs the iron. Then hands the letter and bag to Stella. "Make a note of the contents and letter"

Stella bites her lip at the hostile exchange between Dieter and Feldepost, then cringes as Aiwë starts throwing furniture about.

"We've...had a long day... A long month, really..." Stella explains to Feldepost with a sigh, hoping to alleviate anger. "I don't know if you heard the commotion outside, but he completely destroyed the smithy and Taerom's house and tried to kill us, Taerom, and the apprentices. We can pay for any damages..." she grumbles, looking Aiwë's way. She leaves the part out that the assassins succeeded at killing one of the apprentices, since Aiwë had told Taerom it should remain a secret for now.

"You mentioned a letter...looks like that's the one. Did you see who delivered it?" she asks.
She looks inside and her eyes widen. The bag was so light. Magic, was the obvious answer. What was it with Beregost and magic bags? She takes notes as Dieter asks.

"What? It was some nondescript courier. How am I to remember the droll masses that deliver notes to my door?" Feldepost complains.

"The furniture is fine," Aiwë says, moving it all back to it's spot with a pout. "I'm not throwing it".

"….yes, how do you protect your clientele?" Dieter says surprised that anyone isn’t suspicious of mail.

Feldepost's hands tighten into fists. "My job isn't to protect them. My job is to feed them, provide them with shelter from the elements. I can't be held responsible for the evils that others choose to do."

He turns to Aiwë. "Why don't you go wrestle an ogre or something?"

Stella shrugs. "I'm not sure. If it was someone you knew, that would give us a lead. At any rate, that answers my question." Stella nods.

She sighs at the bickering. At least they had found what they come for. Stella steps over to Runeson and speaks quietly to him. "Can you...I don't know...help de-escalate things? Or at least gracefully thank Feldepost for his assistance, or something. I'd hate to leave with a sour reputation, and I think he might respect you more than the rest of us at this point..."