At this second incident of someone vandalizing the statue, and this time with the blood of an even larger animal, the citizens of the village were beginning to become concerned. “This time it was a stray!” one man was saying. “But what happens next when it’s someone’s pet? Or one of our livestock?”
“Yeah!” another man shouted.
“People, we’re doing what we can,” Sheriff Benjan responded. “Please, now I just need everyone to move along so we can continue our investigation. I promise you that we’re doing everything we can, and we’ll find the culprit.”
Were they, though? At least, that was the question that ran through Natalya’s mind. She considered it, and thought that maybe there was something she could do. But it would have to wait for nightfall.
“Good people,” Heimish said. “We must remain vigilant. It is up to all of us to keep an eye out for the culprit. But for now, we’re in the good sheriff’s way and should let him get back to work. Disrupting his work further does nothing to help capture the person who has done this.”
The crowd considered what he’d said, but only a few began to clear out. People were far too concerned to be swayed by mere words.
Natalya, seeing the situation, considered the matter. It wasn’t really her concern what the people did, but at the same time, she’d seen how Benjan had been willing to help those who had ingratiated themselves to him. And, as a bounty hunter and adventurer, she knew that it was always a good idea to have the law on your side.
So she decided to help out. “Surely there is something better we could be doing with our time. Come, let us head over to the Laughing Demon. I’ll buy everyone a round of ale.” She still had plenty of money from the bounty she’d just collected, and had a thousand gold payday in less than a month. The few gold it would cost to get people out of the sheriff’s hair could potentially pay vast dividends, and it couldn’t hurt for people to think of her as “the person who bought everyone drinks” rather than “the armed tiefling outsider”.
Santino, for his part, was less than concerned with what the citizens were doing than he was with Benjan’s deputy, a woman by the name of Trestleblade. She had spurned his advances when he had been in town last, and he viewed her as a prize he should win.
Thus, while the others were worried about the crime and the reaction to it, Santino was too busy making suggestive motions with his tongue at an annoyed deputy. And when the crowd began leaving for the tavern, he made no move to join them.
“Make sure to take your, ahem, friend with you,” Trestleblade called out to Natalya.
“Don’t be bashful. You know you love me, Truffles.” He’d never liked her name, so he had long ago chosen to ignore reality and replace her name with one of his own devising.
“We don’t need your shenanigans today,” she answered flatly.
Heimish, noticing the situation, hobbled over to Santino. “Come now, we best be getting out of their way. I’m sure you can pursue your courtship later,” he told the other man as he pulled him along. “Besides, maybe if we help the sheriff solve this mystery, it might put you in her good graces.”
Santino considered it. “It’s worth a shot, I guess.” Of course, he completely forgot about it by the time they reached the tavern, and immediately considered something else. “Heimish, now that we’re here, do you hear any screaming?”
“Screaming? No, I can’t say I do. I hear laughter.” He looked around. “No, nothing seems amiss. So I’m going to the town hall again. That letter ‘E’ concerns me. I’m going to see if I can find anything by looking up the names of the prisoners.”
“Yeah, alright,” Santino said. “I guess I’m just going crazy, since no one else heard it,” he muttered under his breath.
Natalya, meanwhile, had to work out the price her promise would cost her. “Twenty gold?!” she balked. “I’m not looking to buy the tables. I just want enough ale for these people here.”
“These aren’t the only ones who will arrive,” Zokar said. “Word’s already spread around town. Everyone will be coming for their free drink.”
Natalya’s face blanched. “That complicates things,” she said. She couldn’t afford for people to be disappointed. Opinion would turn against her and she couldn’t afford that so early in her time in town.
“At least you’ll be popular,” Zokar said.
“Yeah, there’s that,” she said with a sigh. Then she had a thought. “Do you ever sell ale by the barrel?”
Zokar’s eyebrow raised. “I have before,” he said.
“Then sell me enough barrels to cover drinks for everyone in town.”
“And where will you serve these drinks? It’s not worth it to me to have to clean so many mugs.”
But Natalya had done a lot of work guarding merchants. She’d pick up a few things. “Those drinks, maybe no. But with everyone coming in here, do you really think all of them will stop at a single drink? Surely many of them will buy a second drink. And what’s a drink without food?”
Natalya didn’t know it, but she’d stumbled upon a marketing concept known as a “loss leader”, a trick used by many merchants. By offering something at a small loss, you can often make up the difference in extra sales that come from customers who have been drawn to the store by the discount.
Zokar considered it. “I can see your point. I might just do more business today than any day before. It’s a deal. I’ll sell you your barrels.” He did the math. “Five gold should cover it.”
That was a price Natalya could live with. “Done,” she said, shaking his hand and depositing the money on the counter. “Enjoy your drinks!” she said to the gathered crowd before marching out the door to cheers.
Santino jumped as someone slapped his backside. He turned and saw Jorfa standing there, a grin on her face. “What brings you here?” he asked. “Shouldn’t you be working?”
Jorfa shrugged. “I heard there was free booze.”
“Fair enough,” Santino said. “Hey, what was that thing you were telling the kids about this place?”
“What?” she asked, draining her tankard. “Oh, yeah. The food here isn’t all fun and games. There’s always more corpse chowder after unpopular merchants supposedly leave town. And you don’t want to go in the back with Zokar, lest you end up in the stew.”
Santino stroked his chin. “Now I really need to know what’s back there. Help me out?”
“Oh?”
“Just follow me and giggle a bit.”
“I’m sure I’m going to love this.”
“Hey, Zokar,” Santino called out as he went over.
“Oh, it’s you. Looking for more wolf balls?” the tavern keeper asked.
“Maybe in a bit,” Santino answered. “Hey, my friend’s had a bit too much to drink today, and I need to take her somewhere away from the crowd. You know, somewhere with some privacy, if you know what I mean? Mind if we use your back room?” Jorfa giggled girlishly at his words.
Zokar shook his head. “Boy, we can’t be having people rutting in the back where we store the food. If you need privacy, take her home.”
Santino sighed. “Fine, okay, maybe after we eat. Get me a couple sets of wolf balls.”
Zokar smiled. “To go? Or are you eating here today?”
“More booze!” Jorfa cheered.
“Here, apparently,” Santino said.
“Coming right up!” Zokar laughed. “Grab a seat before they’re all taken!”
Santino and Jorfa had a seat at a table in the corner. “Well, that didn’t work,” Santino complained.
“Worked fine for me,” Jorfa said. “I’m definitely ready for some breakfast.”
“Right,” Santino said, taking a drink from the mug that Zokar placed before him. “Hey, guess who I ran into today.”
“Who?”
“Truffles.”
“Who is that?” Jorfa asked.
“Oh, right. Trestleblade. When did she become a cop?”
Jorfa gulped down her drink. “Long time ago. Right after you left, I think.”
“Think I should try to hit that? She got away last time.”
Jorfa shook her head. “She’s a cold fish. Not worth the effort.”
“Right,” Santino said as he took a drink, clearly not convinced.
Meanwhile, Natalya sat outside of the town’s general store, waiting for the shopkeeper to return from getting his free drink. Word really had spread. “This is going to be a long day,” she said to herself.
At the town hall, Heimish and Loxie spent hours researching names. None of the prisoners matched. “I think we have something,” Loxie said suddenly.
“What is it?” Heimish asked.
“Look,” she said, holding out the tome she’d been reading.
He read through it. “There’s a name that matches!” he said. “Violet Evergreen. Sister to one of the guards who died. It’s more than we had before.”
“I saw another possibility,” Loxie said. “If we’re willing to consider that it’s not initials but part of a name.”
“Oh?”
“Right here,” the woman said. “Vesorianna Hawkren.”
“Hawkren…” Heimish said. “Where do I know that name from?”
“She’s the warden’s wife.”
“Wait, that’s right! Didn’t she die that night as well?”
Loxie nodded. “Yes. She died alongside her husband and all those guards.”
“That sounds quite a bit more relevant,” Heimish said.
“It does,” Loxie agreed.
“I’d best head to the sheriff’s office and let him know what we’ve found.”
Loxie looked at the time. “Oh! And I should get back to my duties.”
At the sheriff’s office, a lone deputy sat, leaning back on a stool, when Heimish arrived. “Yes?” she asked. “Can I help you with something?”
“Ah, yes, Miss… Truffles, was it?”
“Don’t call me that,” Trestleblade answered.
“My apologies. It was the only name I knew for you.”
“My name is Trestleblade.”
“I see. Is that your given or family name?” Heimish asked.
“Yes.”
Heimish didn’t bother asking for further clarification. “I came to speak with the sheriff. Is he in?”
“Not currently.”
“Oh. Do you have something I can write a note on? I think I may have found a lead into the vandalism.”
She thought for a moment. “Right. Let me get something.” She went into the back and returned with a parchment and quill. She motioned to the inkwell on the sheriff’s desk.
“Thanks,” Heimish said, quickly jotting down a note to let the sheriff know what he’d found.
“No problem,” Trestleblade said. “Look, if you really want to talk to the sheriff, try visiting Jominda’s Apothecary. He spends a lot of time around there.”
“Thank you. I’ll do that. Can you point me in the direction of Jominda’s?”
Sometime later, as he entered the doors to the shop, Heimish heard the voice of a woman. “Do you really have to come in here? I’ve told you a thousand times that I don’t make poisons or deal in illegal drugs!”
“Sorry, Miss Jominda,” Sheriff Benjan’s voice answered. “I just have to be sure.”
Heimish cleared his throat. “Hey, Sheriff,” he said.
“Oh,” Benjan said, recognition on his face. “It’s you. What brings you to the apothecary?”
“Don’t harass my customers,” Jominda sniped.
“Sorry, I came here for two sets of business. The first is with you, Sheriff,” Heimish said. He then relayed what he found as the sheriff listened carefully.
“I see,” Benjan finally answered. “It’s a slim lead, but it’s a lead nonetheless. We’ll look into it.”
“Yes,” Jominda said. “Now get out of my shop and do your job.”
“Right,” the sheriff answered. “Thanks again, Heimish.”
“Of course. And now to my other business. You see, I heard about this place from my friend Stein,” he began.
“Yes, I know Stein,” Jominda said. “One of my best customers.”
Heimish nodded. “Well, you see, he and I share a certain affliction, and I was hoping you could help me out a bit?” he said, motioning towards his bum leg.
“Ah, yes. I have just the thing for the pain,” Jominda answered. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll set you up with a nice poultice.”
“Thank you kindly,” Heimish answered.
Meanwhile, Natalya was negotiating the price for the goods she was buying. “I never thought a net would cost so much.”
“If you’re really tracking a nuisance boar and mean to catch him, you don’t want something cheap that he’ll easily get out of,” the shopkeeper answered. “Those tusks will tear your gut right open.”
“Fair point,” Natalya answered.
“Look, here’s what I’ll do. Since you’re buying so much, I’ll throw in some chalk. Grind it up and it’s excellent for use in mapping tracks.”
“Deal,” she agreed. “Now all I need is some glowing ink. Where might I find some of that?”
“Apothecary would be your best bet. I’m sure Jominda might be able to mix something up.”
“Thanks,” Natalya said.
Santino, having run into Natalya and agreeing to help her on her project later, found himself just staring at the town monument, since he had nothing to do for the moment. He wasn’t sure what he should be doing. He was at a loss on his search, since the graveyard had turned up nothing. And he wasn’t sure how important the business at the monument even was. But it was something for people to do, he guessed.
He decided it was time to go check the inn. He was starting to get hungry, after all, and one could only eat so many wolf balls in a day. So he took the first step in the direction of the inn.
He immediately stopped when he spotted a deputy staring at him. “Afternoon,” he called out in greeting.
“And what might you be doing over here, exactly?” the deputy, a sour faced man by the name of Leromar, asked him.
“Nothing, really. Just thinking.”
“Right. And do you really need to do your thinking at the monument?”
Santino shrugged. “Not really, I guess. I’m just wondering about that strange business. You haven’t seen anything, have you?”
“There’s a strange person suspiciously staring at the monument,” Leromar said.
“Where?” Santino asked, looking around. But he didn’t spot anyone. Instead, he noticed a strange sight on the road. Tracks appeared out of nowhere, and faded just as quickly. He was pretty sure they were wagon and horse tracks.
“What are you staring at now?” Leromar asked.
“You didn’t see that, did you?” Santino asked, already knowing the answer.
“See what?”
“Of course you didn’t.” Santino sighed. “I’m getting really tired of being the only one to see these things. I hope I’m not going crazy,” he mumbled.
“Well, you should get out of here. And stay away from the monument.”
“Will do. And if anything happens, you’ll know it wasn’t me because I can’t be near it after you’ve told me not to.”
Leromar’s head was beginning to hurt. “What?”
“Want some candy?” Santino asked.
“I don’t take candy from strange people.”
“Your loss,” Santino said, tossing a piece of candy in his mouth. He then smirked and walked away, swaying his hips suggestively at the exasperated deputy.
The inn was fairly quiet when he arrived. A few patrons were enjoying themselves in a game of cards, but other than them, the place was fairly empty. Santino liked that just fine, and approached the innkeeper.
“Excuse me,” the man said. “What kind of food do you serve here, Miss…?”
“Sarianna,” the innkeeper answered.
“Right,” Santino answered. “I’ve been away for far too long and have forgotten far too many names.”
“Quite alright,” Sarianna said. “Now, about that food, I haven’t much, but there’s a stew pot on the fire. I could get you some of that, if you’d like.”
“That sounds lovely,” Santino said, taking a seat.
Sarianna returned a few moments later, with a trencher of steaming lamb stew in hand. “Here you are,” she said, placing it before Santino.
He took a sniff. “Mmm, lamb. One of my very favorites.” He took a taste. “Yes, most delicious. All it needs is some musical accompaniment.”
“Sadly,” Sarianna said, “while many musicians frequent this place, none are in house at the moment. If you’re interested, there are some fairly good ones planning to stop here in the next few days, or so their valet tells me.”
“I look forward to it,” Santino answered. “But as I recall, you’ve quite the reputation for your beautiful voice. Perhaps you could share even just a single song with me, that I might enjoy your wonderful stew even more?”
Sarianna giggled girlishly at the comment, an act she was ten years too old for, but still came naturally. “I couldn’t,” she said in refusal. “I have far much to do to waste my time in such frivolity, save for special occasions.”
“A pity,” Santino said. “It might have lightened my spirits after the death of my father. Oh well. Tell me, have you heard anything about new people in town?”
“Aside from the normal merchants, the only new people I’ve heard of are an eloquent man with a gimp leg and a strange red-skinned tiefling woman who made a bit of a splash by buying everyone in town a drink.”
“I see,” Santino said, slurping down the last of his stew. He was never sure if he should eat the trencher or not. So he gobbled it down. It wasn’t like they could reuse the stale bread after it had soaked up so much broth. “A pity, I had hoped that a beautiful woman as yourself might know of someone who might be responsible for the town’s troubles.”
“Your reputation for flattery is well earned, I see,” Sarianna answered. “But it seems without ill intent.”
“I am the soul of congeniality,” Santino answered, fishing a coin from his purse and placing it in her hand.
“I’m sorry, but I haven’t enough small coin to make change for a gold piece,” Sarianna said. “Do you have something smaller?”
“I do, but receiving change is not the intent. Keep what is left, in exchange for the information and your lovely company. And please keep me abreast of the arrival of your musicians.”
“I shall,” Sarianna answered.
When Santino returned to the manor, he found Alvin speaking with Stein. “Hi!” he called out to Alvin excitedly. “Do you have news for me?”
“Oh, it’s just who I was looking for,” Alvin said.
“Heh,” Stein snorted derisively.
Santino ignored the butler. “So, did you find anything?” he asked Alvin.
“Nothing of note, no,” Alvin answered.
“Did you search thoroughly?”
“Yep. Pretty thoroughly.”
Overcoming his disappointment, Santino decided on his next course of action. “You should stay for dinner. Or at least a drink.”
“Sorry,” Alvin said. “But I really ought to be getting back to my duties.”
“Right,” Santino said, a bit crestfallen. Stein chuckled at his rejection. “Do you mind?” Santino snapped at him.
“Not at all. Don’t let me stop you.”
Santino ignored him and hugged Alvin, once more sniffing his hair. “At least tell me you’re interested in hearing the musicians Sarianna has coming in with me.”
“I might be able to make time,” Alvin conceded.
Santino stared longingly at Alvin as he left, looking akin to a puppy watching its master leave. Even Stein took pity on him. “Come inside. I was about to make some tea.”
Santino perked right up. “Ooh! Tea!” He followed Stein inside, and decided to make conversation. “So, how has life been since the death of my father?”
“Coming to a bunch of dead ends,” Stein grunted.
“So, what brought you into his employ, anyway?”
“I have a particular set of skills he required.”
“I see…” That wasn’t getting anywhere. Santino considered trying another tack. “So, it seems you’re an alchemist. What got you into alchemy?”
“This and that,” Stein answered.
“Okay, so do you know anything about the prison?”
“It’s mostly ancient history. Nothing for us to worry about.” Stein was obviously not really interested in conversation. “Now give me a moment to get that tea ready.” He punctuated the sentence with a sinister grin.
Santino’s reply was interrupted by the arrival of Heimish. “Find anything?” he asked the preacher.
“It all seems to be pointing towards Harrowstone,” Heimish responded.
“Oh. I saw some weird tracks leading off in that direction. I think you might be right.”
“I’ll have to have you tell me about them,” Heimish said. “But first,” he continued, pulling out a small satchel and handing it to Stein. “For my brother-in-arms, or perhaps more aptly, brother-in-legs.”
Stein opened the package. “Oh my. She finally got these in? I must investigate these herbs immediately.” With that, he ran off to his laboratory.
“But… my tea…” Santino whined.
“Come now, I’ll make us both some tea,” Heimish offered. “While I work, I’ll tell you about what I found, and how I suspect this might have ties to the old warden’s wife, who died alongside her husband and all of those guards.”
Drawn by the smell of tea, Kendra came downstairs and joined them several minutes later. “There you are, Cliffy,” she said. “Natalya asked me to let you know that she would be awake a few hours after dusk.”
“Oh, right, I’d almost forgotten about that.”
“You two have plans?” Heimish asked.
“We’re going to keep watch to see if we can catch the person vandalizing the monument red handed,” Santino explained.
“Ah. Well, good luck to both of you, but I’m afraid I’m too tired to offer my assistance tonight.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Santino said. It wasn’t like Heimish would be much use in a chase, after all.
Later, Heimish was in his room getting ready for bed when he noticed something strange. “What’s that?” he asked no one in particular as he approached the window. “What the hell is going on?” He reached out and touched it. “Since when were there bars on my window?”
He turned back to the room and noticed other strange things. His comfortable bed was gone, replaced by a pile of straw. The rest of his furniture was also gone. All that remained was a hole in the corner which looked strangely like a privy.
He heard laughter. “Hello there! Where am I?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. He turned and looked at the wall, where a dark liquid was dripping. Slowly it moved, eventually forming first an ‘H’, then an ‘E’, and so forth, as the laughter continued to get louder.
Heimish sat bolt upright in bed, his hair soaked with sweat. “Oh. It was a dream!” he said, breathing a sigh of relief. He dabbed his brow with a discarded shirt from the floor nearby. As he did so, he felt something warm drip on the back of his hand.
With trepidation, he looked up at the ceiling, and a single drop of dark liquid dripped directly on his forehead. And he saw his name, all save the final letter, written on the ceiling above his bed.
Heimish jumped up from the bed, flung the door to his room open, and called for help. “Something really strange is going on here!” he called out.
It took several moments, but soon everyone was gathered. Heimish showed them the writing on the ceiling. “Very strange,” Stein said. “Let me get my kit.”
Once he returned, Stein took a sample of the liquid and mixed it with several reagents. “What is it?” Heimish asked.
“Not sure. But there’s no lingering magic.”
Heimish explained his dream. “That’s very strange,” Kendra said. “I’ve never heard of anyone having dreams like that. Definitely not in this house.”
Heimish nodded. “Well, I guess there’s not much we can do here. Do we have anything to get this cleaned with?”
“I’ll take care of it,” Stein said.
Natalya cleared her throat. “Santino, it’s time for us to get going.”
“Good luck,” Heimish said. Natalya just nodded in return.
“Wait,” Santino said. He handed her a bag of caltrops. Rather than try to explain that they were trying to catch the perpetrator, not hobble him, she just thanked him and set them in her room. Then she and Santino set out.
After setting several tripwires with bells on paths that would be obscured from her view as well as carefully hidden piles of chalk near those, Natalya took up a position at the edge of a nearby alley.
Santino, meanwhile, climbed up a nearby tree.
Nothing happened all night, save for one point when a dog sniffed at the tree Santino was in, then growled. Natalya heard him telling the dog to leave, eventually imitating the dog’s growl to scare it away.
As the first light of dawn began to appear on the horizon, Natalya decided that the vandal wouldn’t be showing this night, and began clearing her traps. She was in a bush when she heard Santino talking to someone.
“Hey there, Vrodish,” he called out.
“Leromar told me you’d been hanging around the statue. What are you doing out here this early?”
“Just wanted to make sure the statue was okay,” Santino said. He then continued to ramble on for several minutes about things of no consequence.
“Look,” Vrodish finally said, interrupting him. “If you don’t want to be considered a suspect, you should really stop hanging around here.”
“Okay, I get you. Hey, what do you know about the prison? Have you ever been there?”
Vrodish sighed. “Look, there’s nothing there except for some vermin and dust. There are no ghosts, and nothing of interest. You’d do well not to try going there.”
“Thanks,” Santino said.
“Now, I’m going to continue my patrol. Keep your nose clean.”
“My nose is always clean.”
“Right.”
Several moments later, Santino spoke again. “He’s gone.”
“Thanks,” Natalya said, crawling out of the bush. “I’ve got a bit more to clean up. You go on ahead to the estate.”
“Meet you there.”
When she finally made it back, Natalya found Heimish and Santino talking about going to investigate the prison. “If we’re going to go, we have to get permission. I’m sure that the sheriff will let us, if we ask.”
“Maybe you,” Santino said. “I don’t think anyone at the sheriff’s office likes me much.”
“We could always use my adventurer’s guild card,” Natalya said.
“How’s that,” Heimish asked.
“As a registered adventurer, there’s a treaty that allows me to explore old dangerous ruins even when local law enforcement wants to keep people away. Unless they have a valid reason to decline us beyond it being for our own safety, they’ll risk sanctions from the guild and other organizations if they refuse.”
“Then that’s what we’ll say when we talk to him,” Heimish said.
“We don’t technically even have to ask,” Natalya tried protesting.
“I would feel better if we did anyway.”
She shrugged. “We can do it your way, then.”
“Question,” Santino said.
“Yes?” Natalya answered.
“That card applies to you, but what about us?”
“It covers me and my hirelings,” she said. “I’ll just have to hire you.”
“An equal share of anything valuable we happen to find will suffice for me,” Heimish said.
“I want a little more,” Santino said. “My equal share of the loot… and a smile from you.” Natalya gave him a flat look. “Come on now. Just a little smile.”
“I am smiling,” Natalya said, her expression unchanging.
Santino raised an eyebrow. “Fair enough. Let’s get going.”
They arrived at the sheriff’s office just in time to say hello to Wesley as he was leaving. “Hey, Sheriff,” Heimish said.
“Oh, it’s you,” Benjan answered. “What’s up?”
“My friend here has something she wants to discuss with you.”
After several minutes of explanation by Natalya, Benjan sighed. “There’s nothing there, but if it’ll make you feel better to check, I don’t mind letting you go. Not that I can really stop you.”
“Thanks, Sheriff,” Heimish said as they left. “Before we go, I want to stop off at the town hall. There’s this one thing I want to look up.”
“That’s fine,” Natalya said. “I wanted to run by the temple to get some holy water, on the off chance that there are some ghosts. Let’s meet on the edge of town towards the prison in about an hour and a half?”
“I’m going to go do something too, if anyone cares,” Santino said.
“Just be there on time,” Natalya answered.
Heimish left the others and started making his way to the town hall. But he didn’t make it half way before he came upon a group of kids playing some kind of skipping game. As they played, they sang a strange, morbid song.
“Put her body on the bed.
Take a knife and lop her head.
Watch the blood come out the pipe.
Feeds the stirge, so nice and ripe.
Drops of red so sparkly bright.
Splatters spell her name just right.
With a hammer killed his wife.
Now he wants to claim your life.
Tricksy father tells a lie.
Listen close or you will die.”
The words struck Heimish as strange. “Hello there, children. That’s a strange little tune you have there.” The kids eyed him warily. “What’s wrong?”
“We’re not supposed to talk to strangers,” one child answered.
“Wise counsel from your parents,” Heimish said. “And right you are to heed it. But my name is Heimish, and I mean no harm. So, knowing my name, I am no stranger, though you might consider me strange nonetheless.”
One of the kids laughed. “You’re funny, Mister Heimish.”
“That is true,” Heimish said with a sly grin. “But, as they say, looks aren’t everything.” Several other children laughed at his self-deprecation. “So, now that we’re friends, is there anything you can tell me about that song of yours? What does it mean?”
The first kid who’d laughed shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just something our parents taught us. I think our grandparents taught it to them. We’ve all known it forever.”
“Ah, that’s fine then. Perhaps a bit morbid, by my estimation. Perhaps I could teach you a new rhyme? One of my own devising?” Always eager for something new, the kids agreed immediately. “Well, then, perhaps you’ll like this one. I made it up to teach to a goblin.”
He had hoped that the goblin would become less dangerous if it were taught the ways of the Black Butterfly’s mercy, but it had been a failure in the end. The goblin chewed off its arm to escape its restraints and had killed the farmer’s horse during its escape. But still, if the children enjoyed the rhyme, then maybe the effort wasn’t in vain after all.
“Scary monsters in the night
Watch the skies, their hearts affright.
Betwixt the stars’ twinkling light:
Butterfly’s silent flight.”
The children considered it for a moment. “It’s rather short, isn’t it, Mister Heimish?”
“True enough,” Heimish admitted. “But goblins, you see, have very short memories. If I’d tried to make it longer, the poor devil never would have been able to remember it.”
“Maybe we can make it longer!” one of the boys suggested.
“Yeah!” another agreed.
“Thanks, Mister Heimish!” one of the kids called out as they ran off to go find something to write on.
Heimish chuckled and continued on to the town hall. Once there, Loxie revealed that she’d found something he might be interested in. Apparently there were five notorious inmates who had arrived shortly before events at the prison.
He looked through the books she’d gathered for him, and learned the identities of these men. They were “Father Charlatan”, a blasphemer and con artist by the name of Sefick Corvin; “The Lopper”, a murderer by the name of Vance Saetressle; “The Splatterman” or Hean Feramin, whose crimes weren’t listed, but it was known that he had been a professor of something called Anthroponomastics at Quarterfaux Archives in Caliphas; and finally, the Mosswater Marauder and the Piper of Illmarsh, neither of which Heimish could find further info on.
“What’s anthroponomastics?” Heimish asked Loxie.
“You know, I was confused about that too,” she answered. “But apparently, it’s the study of names.”
“Interesting. Do you have any other books that might have more on these men?”
“They might be mentioned in a few others,” Loxie said. “Here, let me show you.”
Mid-afternoon, on the road just outside of town, Natalya and Santino sat waiting. “Where is he?” Natalya asked impatiently.
Santino, who was lying in the shade under a tree, shrugged. “No idea.”
“Waste of a day!” Natalya grumbled under her breath, kicking the ground. If Heimish didn’t arrive soon, there was no point in going to the prison today. There certainly wouldn’t be time enough to get some sleep so she could continue her stakeout, even if their survey was quick and found nothing.
Santino sat up. “Shall we head back, then?”
Natalya snorted. “Yeah, no point in waiting any longer.”
Back at the manor, Kendra greeted them. “You look upset,” she said to the tiefling.
“Just frustrated,” Natalya answered. “Have you seen Heimish?”
“No, he hasn’t been back all day.”
“Figures. He’s probably still at the town hall. I’m gonna grab some bread and cheese, then I’m gonna go get in some practice with my blade. I worry that I’m getting rusty sitting around like this.”
“Of course,” Kendra said. “The courtyard is perfect for such activities.”
Once Natalya was gone, Santino sat beside Kendra. “So, has anyone been giving you any trouble lately?”
“Not really, why?”
“Well, I’m gonna be going to jail soon, and I was worried something might happen to you while I’m away.”
Bemused, Kendra looked at him. “Why are you going to jail, Cliffy?”
“There are just some things a man’s gotta do. You see, life was simpler before father…” he continued on, going pretty much nowhere with his rambling for a good ten minutes. “And with that,” he said, “I think I’m gonna go see a dwarf about a mule.”
Kendra just laughed. “Well, try not to stay out too late.”
“No promises,” Santino said.
After visiting Jorfa, who was busy with work, but not too busy to chat a bit, Santino then returned to the inn. Sarianna informed him that the musicians had sent word, and would be arriving the next day.
After once more failing to convince Sarianna to sing for him, Santino went to the town hall to see what had happened to Heimish. Heimish wasn’t there, but Santino forgot all about him upon seeing Loxie.
“My, I believe I owe you an apology,” Santino told Loxie.
“Why is that?” she asked.
“I failed to notice how lovely you were when I was here last. Please forgive me, and I shall attempt to rectify my oversight by commemorating your beauty in song and poem.”
“That won’t be necessary, sir,” Loxie said. “If you have no business here, I really must get back to my duties.”
Santino sighed. He would have to formulate a new plan to bed this one. “Fair enough. I’m looking for Heimish. Is he around?”
“No, he left about an hour ago. I think he was going to the apothecary’s shop.”
“Ah, well, then I shall go see if I can find him. But do not think I will simply forget your radiant beauty once you are no longer within my line of sight.”
Loxie just rolled her eyes at him as soon as he was out of sight.
Back at the manor, Natalya cleaned up her sweat and took a look at the sky. It was getting late. She wouldn’t even have time to ask Heimish why he hadn’t shown up before she had to go on her stakeout.
Annoyed, she headed up to bed.
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