Chapter 1: The Body

Eril stood nearby, averting his eyes from the prostitute. He cleared his throat a bit to ease his obvious discomfort.

Lunori’s ears droop ever so slightly, his tail lying still—no flicker of mischief, no playful swish. His golden eyes, usually alight with song and jest, now shimmer with sorrow.

"Ah, fair one, were fate kinder, I would gladly spend the hours in your embrace, lost in the softness of your touch. But the muses, cruel and relentless, bid me onward. One-Ear holds the thread of a tale yet unfinished, and I must weave it before the stars fade."

He bows his head just so, a gesture both gallant and regretful, before slipping away into the shadows.

Breg follows his bardic friend into shadowy goodness.

Aldezar nodded to the woman, "Thank you for your assistance." and left through the entrance they had come in.

Lunori's ears twitch as he lifts his head, nostrils flaring ever so slightly, drinking in the fragrant air of the establishment. His golden eyes gleam with appreciation as he meets the gaze of the approaching woman, a gracious smile curving upon his lips.

"Madam Ye, if my senses do not deceive me, yours is truly a house of refinement and grace. In my travels, I have yet to behold such artistry—not only in its form but surely in its company as well. Were my quest of a different nature, I would indulge in the pleasures of your renowned hospitality.

Alas, duty calls, and I find myself in search of a half-orc by the name of One-Ear.
It is said he treads these halls, and should fate be kind, I would be honored to weave his tale into the grand tapestry of my epic.

And indeed, if you would permit, your illustrious establishment would find its rightful place within those verses as well. Might we await his presence, should he be inclined to grace us with his company?"

Lunori’s ears flicked gently as his golden eyes wandered over the artistry of the establishment, his tail swaying in a rhythm that mirrored the refinement of his surroundings. With a smile warm yet measured, he inclined his head toward Madam Ye.

"Madam Ye, your esteemed establishment is nothing short of a sanctuary for weary travelers and curious souls alike. Its charm and grace are matched only by the hospitality that welcomes us through its doors. It is truly an honor to witness such refinement firsthand."

Aldezar glanced at the feline, he certainly had a way with word. The guard/hunter was just as happy to go the day without saying anything to anyone. He would follow Lunori's lead here as this was well out of his element.

Eril takes a cup of the tea and sips it, a bit nervously, still evidently feeling very uncomfortable in an establishment such as this.

Lunori gently picks up his tea, his golden eyes glinting with warmth as he notices Eril’s unease. Taking a sip, he leans slightly closer, his tail swaying in an easy rhythm.
"Eril," he begins softly, "take a moment—breathe deeply and let yourself absorb the comfort of this place. The scents, the artistry, the tea... this is a sanctuary of refinement, far removed from indulgences of another kind. We are guests in a tea house, admirers of its charm, not seekers of carnal pleasures. There's truly no reason to feel out of place."

Eril listens to Lunori's words, and takes a deep breath indeed letting the scents float his mind into a bit more of a relaxed state. "Thank you, I just don't want it getting back to my mother that I am seen frequenting...Tea Houses"

You owe us nothing, One-Ear. But we do need you to tell us what you know about…an associate of yours, named Malkan.

Lunori stood, his tail flicking lazily like a predator toying with its prey, golden eyes fixed on the half-orc with an expression both curious and calculating. He smoothed his tunic and bowed slightly, a gesture of courtesy tinged with theatrical flair.

"Ah, most esteemed sir One-Ear," he purred, his voice carrying the soft cadence of a practiced performer, "what a tangled skein we find ourselves in, much like a cat chasing shadows in the moonlight. The unfortunate soul who owed you coin has met his end by the blade of an assassin—a pawn of a rising criminal web that seeks to ensnare this town in its threads of treachery."

He paused, taking a deliberate step closer, his tail curling in time with his words. "But here lies the rub, dear sir—their corruption runs deep, reaching even into the hearts of the militia. The militia, mark you."

Lunori's whiskers twitched as he allowed a moment of tension to build. "Now, I must confess, your story intrigues me, and as a bard, it would be my honor to craft a purrfect epic that preserves your name for the ages. Imagine it, 'One-Ear the Unyielding,' remembered in song and verse for a thousand years, sung by hearthfires and in noble halls alike."

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "All I ask in return is your aid—a scrap of memory, a clue that may guide us to uncover the depths of this plot. In so doing, we may resolve this debt of yours and make the streets safe once more, for you and for all who walk them."

Straightening, Lunori's voice regained its warmth, laced with feline charm. "And worry not, we are no spies of the militia. We value our lives too highly to wag our tongues where it might cost them. Together, we can ensure this fledgling threat is nipped before it becomes a lion, ravenous and unchained. What say you, sir? Shall we strike this accord, a win for you, for us, and for the town?"

He listened to the feline bard go on, and on, and then some more. He thought perhaps that the bard gave One-Ear too much credit for nobility, for all they knew, he was member of the same gang and had been the one who had arranged the killing of the guard. Still, the bard's words were persuasive, so the hunter waited, with weapons close at hand.

The slayer studied One-Ear, the way he stood, held himself, the kind of boots he was wearing or how he reacted to the bard's words. Looking for any tells which might help him with this particular prey.