2-4 “Eyes of the Dead”

The world comes back into focus, I'm walking down a street. Except, it isn't me. I see hear feel and smell everything. but I have no control over movement. It's a very strange sensation.

One of the first things I notice is this man must have been out of shape for how he looks. Walking around unarmored shouldn't feel this strenuous. The second is that he is walking around the eastern market square, towards The Hero's Tavern. It's as nice a place as any to get a bite to eat, a good drink, or, in my case, local information. The owner's are retired treasure hunters and self-proclaimed heroes. They were central to our plans to depose Iztram, before he was so fortuitously removed by our Liberators. The market is full of the sounds of people gossiping and the smell of produce and fresh baked goods. I don't have much to go with from what I see here. I guess I really should just stick to the big picture, time to memorize his path for the day, we can question stall owners and shopkeeps he talked to.

I find that I can speed up the 'memory' as well as slow it down or stop it, but I can't reverse it. I increase the pace, a knack for memorizing places will let me beat the same path once I'm out of here.

He stops near several of the bakers on his way toward the tavern, smelling the wonderful baked goods but not buying anything.

In the tavern he has lunch, has a few drinks, and stares at the elven bartender's chest for a bit longer than I think she'd appreciate. He strikes up a short conversation with the man next to him, it's about a new tailor in town.

He leaves the tavern, walks up Bullhorn Way. Stops briefly to look at his reflection in the window of Traveler's Boon General Store. That outfit is more gaudy than I've seen most nobles wearing. Bright greens and blues all over. Stick to the big picture. Street is empty, no one around for quite a ways.

He stops by Eamon's Millinery. Picks up a hat that complements his already absurd get up. I notice in the mirror someone watching through the window, face obscured by a hood. It's too hot out for such attire, that's as suspicious looking a fellow as I have ever seen. The watcher rapidly moves away when the man is done checking his new hat and beginning to pay.

He continues up the way, there's a small but notable crash down an alley to the left, he looks down the alley. This is the alley where we found him. There's something shining on the ground among the forgotten and rotting barrels and crates, he's about to walk down there like an idiot and see what it is isn't he...

Yes, there he goes, it's a silver eagle coin. “How'd this get here? Well, that covers lunch today!” There's another coin further down around the corner. You're really going to fall for this?! He is...

He goes deeper into the alleyways, picking up the next coin and peeking slowly around corners, as if he knows he really ought to not be doing this. Another small crash. Turn around you idiot. “Hm, probably should get back to the street, this place is getting creepy.” No re-!!!

TWIN ECLIPSES, that hurts! That must be the neck wound, an excellent argument towards wearing a gorget right here. I can't feel anything below his head anymore. Vision begins to fade just as he's being turned over. I can't make out the face hanging above him; blurry vision, a dark alley, and a hood. Darkness...

2-1 “Found”

Investigator Freeman Holds a cloth over his face, I would too if this helmet wasn't in the way. How many days has this body been here.

“Looks like the missing person cases just got knocked up a few notches in priority.”

“Probably the only thing you don't want to find in a case like this.”

Investigator Freeman was put in charge of the reports of people going missing over the last week or so. At first they were randomly positioned, now they seem to be focused around a particular area of the city.

“No clothes, that's odd. Neck wound. Probably a knife. Rats have done a number on this one too. Stay here and keep an eye out, I'm going back to the guard house to get a few men to properly clean this up. Hopefully the killer wasn't high class enough to have something to prevent a divination spell.”

Divination spells, amazing how useful and useless they are all at once. Most criminals have enough of a brain to use something to prevent the simpler less powerful magics from spotting them. You need to have important objects to cast the more powerful ones, and even those can be circumvented. Some of the materials for the spells are fairly expensive, so we can't just resort to them for everything. There are a few wizards in the city that cooperate with us who focus specifically on such magic, perhaps they'll be able to solve this quickly, talk to the spirit of the departed or something like that.

“Yes, sir.”

The investigator heads off leaving Watchman Kenneth and me to look after the body. The rookie has been learning a lot more quickly since I was put in charge of training him. He still does some unusual things, but he isn't quite as embarrassing to work with as he was a few days ago when I first worked with him. I give a clear hand signal, and he turns to keep watch on the southern end of the alleyway. I keep an eye on the northern and western branches. Why are there so many alleys like this anyway? I bet if we had built all of the buildings closer together, the crime rate would be less than half of what it is now. Though I'm no engineer, perhaps there is some point to it.

After what must have been at least an hour, Investigator Freeman comes back with four men carrying a casket. We place the putrid corpse inside and close it. The four men lift the casket and we make our way toward the mortuary of The Temple of The Hammer. Investigator Freeman briefs us.

“We'll be met there by Kristoph Mitchelson. He'll attempt to allow us to speak with the spirit of the deceased. Let me ask the questions, the spell only allows for so much time. After that we inform the family of the deceased, and continue the investigation. If we get good enough info we might even be able to make an arrest right away.”

Kenneth and I nod. People get out of the way as we proceed down the streets. Some out of respect, some out of disgust at the stench.