Session 8

<dry|gm> The former caravan guards arrived in the city of Sylmore thinking their journey had ended… only to find that their arrival would merely be the start of yet another winding path.
<dry|gm> The early hours of the morning found Corwyn touching up her disguise as she posed as one Lucille Fletcher, the mysteriously vanished maid who had worked for the alchemist, Rellis Sterton, prior to the explosion at his shop, in an attempt to lure out whatever culprit had truly been behind the deed.
<dry|gm> Then, as part of her disguise, she undertakes to live a day of Lucille’s life. The first place she cleans is the residence of a middle class family, where a housewife struggles to keep up with a pair of rambunctious children while the husband works long hours; the second is the home of an older man with terrible housekeeping skills, living alone. Both clients seem glad to see “Lucille”; neither seems to suspect anything amiss.
<dry|gm> The next place on Lucille’s list is Sterton Alchemicals—obviously a no-go. After that, Maddigan Haberdashery—a fairly busy establishment with several workers, run by a black-gloved man with a stern, unsmiling face, though he is civil enough. He also seems glad to see “Lucille”, albeit in a rather subdued fashion… though mostly he seems to prefer to remain in the back, refining his latest batch of work.
<dry|gm> It is near evening when Corwyn comes to the final place on Lucille’s list—Alen Jewelery. Like most of the shops in this town, it is a multi-story building; unlike most, it has bars on the windows, and does not seem to be doing a particularly brisk business…
<dry|gm> [Place: Near the end of Commerce Street. Time: Late Afternoon. Free to Act: All]
<sissil> Sissil has scheduled, purposefully, to show up with her tiara to be appraised. She’s handling the silver-and-ivory-with-sapphire creation carefully.
<corwyn> Corwyn has been busy, busy, busy. She’s become used to doing all sorts of tasks to get by, but the whirlwind life of a maid was not one that she has ever quite prepared herself for, and it’s perhaps shown a bit over the course of the day. Hopefully, no one can blame Lucille for being a bit lethargic after the events of the past week or so. As she works inside the Jewelery store, she
<corwyn> occasionally looks out the windows, both for signs of her allies and for anything outside of the usual.
<corwyn> When Sissil arrives, Corwyn regards her with a smile and a nod, watching with feigned interest as she gets the tiara appraised.
<bira> It’s been a long day for Bira. She’s been doing more walking than she’s done in any single day in 65 years. She stopped in at the haberdasher’s for a bit to discuss the combined felting and forging of a dwarven ceremonial cap (The copper mesh would have turned out to be a nightmare for a non-dwarven haberdasher to handle), but mostly she has been walking past "Lucille"’s places of work with apparent purpose.
<dry|gm> A woman works the counter, alone. Initially she looks to be middle aged; a large part of this, though, is the thick horn-rimmed glasses, the severe bun her hair is in, and the equally conservative attire she wears. Subtract all of those and she looks much younger. Sissil’s arrival, though, draws her attention. “Ah, you were the one wanting to have a tiara appraised?” she asks; even her voice sounds somewhat stuffy.
<sissil> Sissil approaches with a calm, measured step. “Indeed.” She carefully sets the item in question on the counter. “It’s a rather treasured thing to me for other reasons, but I am curious to as what it is worth in general.”
<bira> Currently, the dwarf sits on a bench in a small park nearby, sketching the bust of some victorious general.

  • Seong is currently trying to look respectable. It isn’t easy.
    <dry|gm> The woman offers a thin smile. “Indeed. One moment…” She turns—noticeably watching Lucille for a moment—before drawing out a jeweler’s loupe and attaching it to one side of her glasses.
    <corwyn> “Lucille” continues watching curiously for a moment, before returning to her normal duties – or at least what she understands them to be.
    <sissil> Sissil watches quietly, but just a touch nervously.
    <dry|gm> “Mmm… mmhmm…” the woman peers at the tiara, then peers again; a touch of animation enters her mannerisms as she studies the tiara closely, picking it up and tilting it this way and that. “This is… an unusual piece indeed.”
    <sissil> Sissil smiles. “Oh?” She keeps the question simple, even as she shows obvious delight in the interest in it.
    <dry|gm> After a moment, she sets the tiara down and removes the loupe, peering at Sissil. “In terms of materials, I would price it at about 550 gold pieces.”
    <dry|gm> She waits a moment… then one corner of her mouth curves up into a thin smile. “Of course, that’s the lowest possible appraisal—materials without considering the worksmanship.”
    <dry|gm> “Whoever crafted this was quite skilled, in my estimation; that further increases the value, and this piece is old enough—and in an old enough style—to increase it further still. I would say that, as a decorative piece, it would be valued around 1100.” She hesitates a moment. “I hesitate to pry, but professional curiosity compels me to ask: how did you come across this?”
    <sissil> Sissil smiles. “It was a prize I won in a contest my first year up north.” She carefully picks up the tiara and puts it back on her head. “And I much appreciate your professional opinion.”
    <dry|gm> “Mm,” the woman frowns, seeming a bit disappointed… then shrugs. “Well. Should you be inclined to part with it, do let us know. Master Alen is out at the moment, but I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that he would be interested in it.”
    <dry|gm> She glances over to Lucille, who is currently working on a stretch of counter with a candy dish. “You’ve got the shop quite nicely cleaned, I think; why don’t you go take care of the upstairs now?” she suggests coolly.
    <sissil> “I will keep it in mind.” Sissil offers quietly and gives a polite curtsey. “Do you mind if I look over what is on display?” She inquires with a smile.
    <dry|gm> “By all means. Should you have any questions, let us—” She pauses, gives a twitch of a grimace before she recovers her smile. “—let me know.”
    <corwyn> There’s a momentary tilt in “Lucille’s” expression, followed by a quick glance around the room. It’s followed however by a smile and a nod, hands held in front of her as she turns away and heads upstairs without another glance at the customers. She slows down, though, once she’s out of sight. She has her gun – tucked uncomfortably out of sight under her outfit – but still finds herself
    <corwyn> a bit on edge when alone.
    <dry|gm> The ‘upstairs’ is a small room; a small bed in the corner suggests that it’s intended to be used as living quarters. There’s no dust to be found, but there’s not a trace of a single personal item visible in this space. A window in the back of the room overlooks an alleyway below; on the right side of the room, another door sits closed.
  • Seong is looking through a jewelry case a few paces away from the shop keeper. Sadly, it’s not easy to find jewelry for her lip-ring piercings.
    <corwyn> Corwyn winkles her brow, looking around a bit confused. Eyes narrow, and she moves to the door, cracking it up and open a noticable amount – so anyone outside can hear her, but also so that if someone besides her closes it, her friends take notice. With that, she takes to looking for something to clean, and finding little to with it, she makes her way to the closed door. There’s little
    <corwyn> hesitation before she pushes it open, seemingly just going about her job – at least as far as she knows.
    <sissil> Sissil mostly just looks around, though she frowns. “I take it you weren’t expecting the absense of Master Alen?”
    <dry|gm> The second room is dark and empty—a large closet, it appears. A heavy chest sits in the back, well locked; beside it, a small case.
    <dry|gm> The woman frowns, adjusting her glasses. “Master Alen had planned for his departure. Evan, on the other hand,” she scowls.
    <bira> On her bench, Bira glances around as she notices the movement of Corwyn opening the window… then her eye is drawn to the cloaked figure seemingly watching her in the reflection of a shop window. Normally, she’d think little of such a thing. Now, though, it’s naturally suspicious.
    <dry|gm> The grey-clad figure observes the shop window across the way for a moment longer… then turns and begins to walk leisurely away.
    <corwyn> Corwyn blinks, staring at the chest for a while – her instinct, of course, is to pry as much into the business of this place and those who live here as possible. But not quite yet, she figures. Instead, she closes the closet, and turns back down the hall, contemplating what to do.
    <sissil> “Ah. I see.”
    <bira> Bira blinks as the figure turns and strolls far too leisurely away, then closes her book, gathers her writing materials back into their pouches, and rises to follow.
    <dry|gm> “Not that Evan was much help at the best of times,” the woman at the counter sniffs, looking faintly annoyed. “The brute. I simply cannot understand what Master Alen was thinking, hiring someone like THAT.” She sighs.
    <sissil> “Bit of a trouble causer?”
    <dry|gm> “He leered. Hiring someone like that for security is like hiring the fox to guard the henhouse,” she says. For a moment she sounds almost amused, then that disgusted look returns. “Ahem. Let us say that… he would not be my first choice for any position.”
  • Seong compares her necklace to a few of the shop’s rings by holding the necklace against the case.
  • Seong “He never touched you, did he? I could go solve that, if you know where he lives.” She says plainly.
    <dry|gm> The woman looks startled… then smiles, seeming somewhat nervous. “Not I. I fear I was… too plain for his tastes.” For an instant, there’s something like a smirk on her lips, then it’s gone again. “He did seem to have a fancy for Lucille—” she confides, glancing towards the upstairs briefly, “—though I think she made it fairly clear where she stood on that.”
  • Seong “Sorry. He just seems the type destined to wake up with a crowd around him.” She never stopped browsing.
    <dry|gm> “One can only hope.”
    <sissil> “… Can I ask when he stopped showing up?” Sissil enquires gently. “I don’t want to pry but I’d rather know how long gone such impropriety might be.”
    <dry|gm> She shrugs. “Two days ago.”
    <sissil> Sissil gives this some thought as she looks over a set of earrings.
    <sissil> “Did Master Alen leave at the same time?” She enquires. “And are you expecting him back at a specific time?”
    <dry|gm> “Master Alen left on the same day, yes; he said something about a unique purchasing opportunity he wanted to pursue. As to when he would return, he said by the end of the… week, most likely,” she says, frowning slightly at this.
    <sissil> Sissil nods. “Thank you. I shall consider showing back up to show him my tiara in person then.”
    <corwyn> Without anything else to clean, though, Corwyn’s instincts get the best of her and she makes her way back to the closet. With a look back to make sure no one else is around, she slowly opens the door to the closet again. For a moment she fiddles with the locked chest, but instead turns her attention to the black case. Looking around once more, slowly opens it just the slightest.
    <sissil> “And since I’m here, what can you tell me about these little earrings here?” Sissil has picked out a set of silver stud earrings. Likely with some kind of interesting design.
    <dry|gm> The case is… odd. It looks more like a healer’s kit than something a jeweler would have any use for, but there are a few components that seem rather odd. Scissors, very sharp. Bandages. A bone needle. A stick of chalk. A spool of bright crimson thread. A razor. All of them seem close to new.
    <corwyn> “The hell?” is something muttered low under Corwyn’s breath, even as she leans down to closer investigate the contents of the box. Her curiosity is piqued for sure, even as a part of her wonders if she could make shft a lockpick out of some of the materials.
    <dry|gm> The woman nods, seeming to brighten up. “Ah, an excellent choice. Kormorani jade.” Carefully, the woman reaches to her belt and pulls out the appropriate key, opening the case and pulling out the earrings. Carefully, she sets the velvet case the earrings rest in on the counter.
    <sissil> Sissil nods. “I see, what can you tell me about them?” Sissil keeps the shopkeeper engaged as she shows interest in the product for sale.
    <corwyn> COnsidering it momentarily, Corwyn files away knowledge of the chest for another day – if it comes to that – and makes a note to bring pins with her next time. For now, she restores the black case, and with nothing else to clean, starts back down the stairs.
    <dry|gm> “Kormorani jade wasn’t particularly uncommon, a few decades ago. The war between Albast and Kormoran made it… somewhat less common, though. Most jade found these days is imported from Kormoran, already crafted… as is this piece; you can tell by the depth of the toolmarks.”
    <dry|gm> The woman behind the counter glances back to Lucille as she comes down the stairs and frowns slightly… but she’s still trying to keep Sissil’s interest, so she refrains from asking any questions.
    <sissil> Sissil meanwhile continues to ask questions about the design and its meaning and similarly off the wall questions as she continues to feign interest.
    <corwyn> The glance is just enough for Corwyn to notice; she offers a smile. “I’m sorry, I forgot something…” she remarks quietly – she is still wary of talking too much, having only been filled in but so much on Lucille’s speech mannerisms by Rosalyn, grabbing a broom from the corner along with a dustpan. She could at least pretend to clean, even if the place looks well enough off. Or maybe
    <corwyn> the open window had blown something in, if asked, and with it in hand she head back upstairs with a brisk pace and a hummed tune.
    <dry|gm> The woman grimaces slightly, turning back to Sissil; while she still attempts to answer her questions, her answers are getting shorter and less expressive, though still polite.
    <sissil> Sissil steers the conversation into the value of thie piece, pointing out some possible defects… or maybe she’s just nitpicking, either way she’s doing her best to sound convincing.
    <dry|gm> “I assure you, madame, that is not a blemish; it is a deliberate strike. The Kormorani use chisels as fine as scalpels to carve such elaborate designs into such small work. As to the price… Master Alen would be most displeased to take anything less than 400 gp.”
    <sissil> “… 250 gold. Even the finest scalpel can be mislaid.” Sissil counter offers with a smile. “Trouble with the other hired help lately?” She inquires at the same time.
    <dry|gm> She makes a sour face. “325 gp. There are times when a defect is not a defect, but a deliberate strike to emphasize the perfection of the rest of the work.”
    <sissil> “280 gold.” Sissil lets her voice get a little louder. “Even caravan guards aren’t made of coin for every diversion.”
    <dry|gm> “300 gold. That is as low as I can justify going on this piece,” the woman says, folding her hands.
  • Corwyn stands at the top of the stairs just out of sight, rolling her eyes. “Just buy the damn jewelery,” she mumbles, before moving to the window and looking out it.
    <sissil> “300 gold it is.” She states as she digs out the coinage from her coin purse to set on the counter.
    <dry|gm> The alleyway is narrow and takes a winding course, but it appears to be open at both ends. The only other windows looking down on the alleyway are shuttered, possibly disused. What’s more, though the windows in the front are barred, this one is not; with the right equipment, it wouldn’t be too hard to get in here from the alleyway below…
    <dry|gm> The woman at the counter nods politely. “Excellent.” She snaps the case briskly closed, swiftly counting and inspecting the coinage before sweeping it into a pouch; she unlocks a small door beneath the counter and stows the coinage there, then gently pushes the case towards Sissil.
    <sissil> Sissil just smiles as she picks up the case and gives a curtsey. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
  • Seong starts leaving with a little sigh. It’s not as though she was trying to hide the fact that she was with Sissil. Really, she just wanted to see if this jeweler had body jewelry…
    <dry|gm> The woman offers a small curtsey in return. “Likewise. Should you wish to part with that tiara, do let us know.” As Seong turns to leave, the woman’s attention shifts to her. “Were you not able to find anything to your fancy, madame?”
  • Seong “Hm? Oh, ah. no. It’s not your fault, they’re not exactly common to this area.” She steps close to better show the jeweler the pair of silver hoops pierced through her lower lip.
    <sissil> Sissil giggles. “I’ll keep it in mind.” As Seong shows what she was looking for, Sissil goes back to browsing.
    <dry|gm> The woman hesitates, then nods. “I… see. Yes, I’m afraid that our inventory tends towards… more prosaically styled goods. Mr. Alen could perhaps have ordered something, but…”
  • Seong “Well, when he’s back, I can perhaps haggle with him.” She flashes a smile. “You have a good evening.”
    <dry|gm> “And you,” she says, offering a curtsey.
    <sissil> Sissil smiles and follows Seong out of the shop
    <dry|gm> With the customers served, her attention returns to current matters… and immediately gravitates to one in particular. “Lucille! Have you finished?”
    <corwyn> At the window, Corwyn jumps a little. She should have been expecting that, and yet she found herself oddly caught up in the view out the window, considering the possibilities. Quickly she makes her way back to the stairs, broom still in hand. “Yes, m’am,” she remarks as she starts down. It’s weird to say, almost a bit bitter in her mouth – she hasn’t called anyone m’am since her mother,
    <corwyn> or since she’d first met Ashandra. “Sorry. I opened a window for air, an’ it blew in something dreadful. All done now, though.”
    <dry|gm> There is a pause, then the woman nods. “Good… alright then. I think you’ve done enough for today; things look clean enough down here, at any rate.” She pauses. “You haven’t seen Evan, have you?”
    <corwyn> “Evan” is a variable Corwyn had not known about or considered before. She would probably be panicking if not for the fact that she can offer a simple answer, that is in no way a lie. “No, not today…” At least, as far as she knows it’s not a lie.
    <dry|gm> “Mmm.” The woman looks annoyed, but not at Lucille. “I didn’t think so. Had to ask, though.” She grumbles sourly. “Alright, thank you for your work,” she says, waving a hand in dismissal.
    <corwyn> “Lucille” offers a half bow and a thank you, before gathering up antthing she brought with her and making off, as she is supposed to do once pleasentries and commentaries are dispensed.
    <dry|gm>

~ Meanwhile, outside the shop… ~
<dry|gm> The grey-cloaked figure continues to stride leisurely down the street, occasionally pausing to observe a shop window; clothes, potions, tools, it doesn’t seem to discriminate. It also seems to be giving Bira ample chances to catch up. As she draws closer, she can see that its robe is… oddly cut. After a moment, it stops in front of an alley, pauses, then turns down it.
<bira> It’s a trap. Obviously. Bira strolls right in.
<dry|gm> There is no one there; the alley is empty, terminating in a brick wall, with the only way out being a third story window. It is only after she has a chance to see this—possibly to turn around—that a voice speaks. “You are not lacking on courage, small one. Wisdom, perhaps… but not courage.” It’s hard to pin down where the voice is coming from; it seems cordial enough, though with a faint trace of an odd accent.
<bira> “Knowledge and wisdom; the seekers of one usually lack the other.” She settles her gaze on the empty air about where she’d be making eye contact with a human ten feet in front of her.
<dry|gm> A moment’s silence. “An interesting thought. I would disagree, personally, but it says something about your character. You seek knowledge, then? Is that why you chose to follow someone you did not recognize down a dark alleyway?” The voice is faintly amused.
<bira> “Are there other reasons to?” She pauses. “I suppose I could conceivably be the world’s least appropriate mugger.”
<dry|gm> “Indeed, you do not look the part,” the voice says, still sounding amused. “In my home country, you know, I could strike you down in broad daylight and no one would say a word,” the voice sighs, sounding a bit wistful now. “I do not suppose I will, though. It would be a bothersome note on such an otherwise enjoyable day.”
<dry|gm> “Very well. Some among my order hold that it is our duty to teach… so if you wish to learn, then ask. I will answer false, or I will answer true, or I will not answer at all… but whichever way, you will learn something, will you not?” the voice asks.
<bira> Bira rubs her chin for a moment as questions flick through her mind, most rejected as irrelevant. “What is your order’s interest in this situation? And let’s not pretend naivete, we’re either both involved in the same situation or there’s an entirely other situation that’s just as large.”
<dry|gm> “Hm, so you know of my order? Then your search for knowledge has not been fruitless; I am pleased,” the voice says. “But I fear that you misunderstand, somewhat. My purpose is my own, and my own alone.”
<bira> Bira inclines her head, allowing him to continue if he wishes.
<dry|gm> There is a laugh. “The order has not had a common purpose since we invaded this land to avenge the grave insult offered our people, decades ago. This is our natural state; it is rare indeed for us to stand in agreement.” There is a pause. “My order’s tenets are towards the growth of the self; each of us walks our own path, and constantly strives to further our own development.”
<bira> “That is useful to know. Might I know your purpose, then?”
<dry|gm> “One among your number interests me.” There is a slightly darker edge in the voice now.
<bira> Bira attempts to keep her face neutral. “Elucidate.”
<dry|gm> “A nice word. Very nice. Commanding,” the voice chuckles, but that hint of an edge remains for a moment. “There is little to elucidate on, though. All of you are unusual in your own ways, but one of you in particular I find… interesting. I wish to see which path she will take. How will her potential grow? Will it wither on the vine, or bloom? How far hath the apple fallen?”
<dry|gm> “As I have said: all in my order seek constantly to further their own development, to surpass their limits; it has been true since our nation was born from the ashes of the Reckoning. But there is a paradox inherent in growth: the further one has come, the greater the challenge required to progress further.”
<dry|gm> “Take, for example, yourself. You have learned much in your homeland, I am sure, but now you find yourself compelled to venture further afield to learn more, do you not?”
<bira> “Mm. That is in fact the entire reason I left.”
<dry|gm> “Just so,” the voice says, in a tone of understanding. “After a certain point, one must seek ever more esoteric sources and means by which to continue one’s personal growth. The alternative is stagnation—failure to grow. Death.”
<bira> Bira nods slowly.
<dry|gm> “In any case. This has been a delightful diversion from another delightful diversion, but I fear that time waits for no man—or woman, either. Have you further questions, before I take my leave?”
<bira> “Nothing of import. Your name, or a name I can refer to you by, would be appreciated, should you care to give it.”
<dry|gm> “A name…” There is silence for a moment. “Kur’kaj will suffice, I think.”
<bira> “And I am Bira Tomedelver. As you say, it has been a delightful diversion, I thank you for your time.” She drops a short curtsey and begins to walk toward the mouth of the alley.
<dry|gm> “Know this, Bira Tomedelver. I will be watching. Know, too, that sometime in the future, our parting may not be as amicable as it has been on this occasion. And as a third bit of advice… wisdom. Take care when accepting invitations; not all are offered in good faith.” The last is delivered with a return to that amused tone. “Until next we meet… fare thee well.”
<dry|gm>

<dry|gm> And so these seekers of truth disperse, for the time being. Bira, Seong, and Sissil return to the Full Plate; Corwyn, still posing as Lucille, returns to Charetreuse House… only to find a familiar pair of Watch officers waiting for her.
<dry|gm> After a long walk down to the Watch station, Corwyn is met by none other than Detective Raines for “interrogation”, which winds up consisting of a cup of coffee and what may be the softest questioning in history, after which she is released on her own recognizance… for now.
<dry|gm> It’s late that night—after “Lucille” has already retired for the night—when the group finally manages to rejoin each other at the Full Plate common room.
<dry|gm> [Time: Late. Place: Full Plate Common Room. Free to Act: All.]
<sissil> “I think our plan is likely to backfire.” Sissil states quietly, as she leans back at the table. She’s frowning. Hard.
<sissil> Sissil sighs. “I think the orgininal girl mayyy have been kidnapped as well.”
<bira> “We’re also not fooling someone. I had the loveliest conversation with an invisible Kormorani in an alley.”
<corwyn> Just as before, Corwyn enters the Full Plate with a poncho draped over her, hiding her… Lucille Outfit, for lack of a better descriptor. She looks tired, understandably so from the long day. “Did you find out anything?”
<sissil> “… That this Evan had designs on Lucielle, vanished the same day we arrived, and so did his boss, whom she has no idea why he’d hire a lout and thug like that.”
<bira> “You have a fan. Or one of us does, at least. I’m assuming it’s not me.” She takes a swig of ale and drums her fingertips on the table. “A Kormorani man lured me into an alley for the purposes of talking enigmatically.”
<corwyn> Corwyn stops in her tracks, pursing her lips. She glances at the door, for a brief moment considering just… leaving again, because goddamnit. But she doesn’t. “I was asked about Evan. I told her I hadn’t seen him, which at least wasn’t a lie.” She lets out a long sight. “Well, maybe we should look into this.”
<sissil> “… My current hteory is either Evan or Alen is the body, the other is our kidnapper, and he has both of them.” Sissil shrugs. “Worst case I have at the moment.” She sighs then looks to Bira. “… Kormorani you say?”

  • Seong has been only listening so far. “What did he say, Bira? And does anyone have some sort of invisibility destroying spell we can lean on?”
    <bira> “Mm. A member of the Order of the Sublime Way of Enlightenment, he’s here keeping an eye on one of us. To see…” she taps a line in her book, “to see ‘how far hath the apple fallen.’”
  • Seong “Great.” She takes a drink from her gourd. “That could mean anything.”
    <sissil> “No. It means something very specific.” Sissil states softly.
  • Seong “I beg to differ, but go on.”
    <sissil> “… They value the arts. And that’s about the only thing that would get them this far away from home.” She twitches. “So either someone’s been watching my blade-style too closely, or they like how you throw down.” She says to Seong.
  • Seong “I’m exiled from the crane monastery, so I kind of doubt it’s me.” Another sip.
    <sissil> “The short version? The order looks for self-improvement… and so long as they don’t make the streets run red, can pretty much do as they please… as long as they answer to further up the order’s food chain… also, the front line of the last time they ran an invasion into Albast. Couple of weeks, third of the army is just gone. And I just had to find Kormorani jade earrings.”
    <sissil> “… Given one of the styles that is popular among them is… very similar to my own…” Sissil admits as she looks at her drink.
  • Seong “The Untouchables. They were at the head of that invasion, and some people think it was only turned away because the Untouchables got bored of soldier life.” She frowns. “The OLD master of the Cranes, not the current master, might have been one. The rumor flew around a lot.”
    <dry|gm> The night ends on a rather grim note. The jeweler mentioned in Sterton’s journal is gone, along with one of his hired help, and no obvious connection found to Sterton’s research. Lucille, still under suspicion and still missing. And now, the enigmatic Untouchable, lurking in the shadows. What seemed to be a lead has only brought an avalanche of new questions.
    <dry|gm> Amidst this maze of mysteries, what path will those who seek the truth take? And what will they find at the end?
    <dry|gm> Next time, on Hammer of Night.
    <dry|gm> [Session End]

Session 8

When Falls the Hammer of Night Dry