Bruq looks at the large padlock dangling at the door frame. It’s unlocked, but obviously not in its normal fashion. The upper part of the lock’s body is intact, but the lower half looks like it’s molten. Small drops of dried up metal lie on the doorstep and grey thin strands stick to the wood.
(Investigation 8) (Investigation 15)
“It looks like Phenilias was trying to keep some people out.” Lyssa grabs the lock and a small part that was dangling inside falls on the ground. “He failed miserably by the look of it.”
Oslando shakes his head.
“No, I don’t think so”, he says, trying not to sound pedantic. “If he wanted to lock himself in, the lock would be on the inside. Maybe he tried to keep something inside. Or he just locked the door so his stuff didn’t get stolen while being away from home. Let’s go inside and have a look.”
The satyr nods affirmingly and pushes against the door. The first thing they notice is the incredible mess. Broken jars and crumpled pieces of parchment decorate the rug. Shards of glass float in the ink on the table, staining a few of the books on the table, and the portraits on the wall are all crooked.
“Well, this looks like a hurricane came through”, Lyssa says as she quickly scans the room. “There are a lot of things here, but no Phenilias.”
They take a few steps inside, careful not to break anything else. A desk stands against the left wall and a large cupboard fills up the entire wall in front of them. On their right, between the paintings, is a small ladder leading up to a whole in the ceiling.
“Shall we all just start looking somewhere?” Mero asks this while already inspecting the art on the wall. “We’re looking for the spectator, any sign of Phenilias and something that could be tied to curing the curse.”
(History 21)
“Look at these!”
The siren holds up a ceramic jar with both her hands. Thanks to the translation stones they can read the strange symbols that make up to Abaddonian alphabet, understanding that it says ‘pet pits’. She puts it on the ground and digs in, apparently looking for something special inside.
“Morgan O’Hare, one of my former crew members, had a few of these things, traded some for a bottle of my finest wine. I wanted keelhaul him until he showed me what they were for. Depending on how you bury one of these seeds, a small familiar appears. If you bury it in mud or sand, a sea creature sprouts from the pit. Morgan’s recent pet was a piranha. It took him literally less than an afternoon to lose half of his finger. The idiot called him Captain Nibbles after that. The fish had a great sense of humor. Morgan was always laughing when talking to him.”
Bruq looks up from the scrolls he’s reading on the floor. He stops ordening them in small piles.
“A talking fish?” Bruq bleats shortly and he shakes his head. “How could that be? And how am I still amazed by these little things after all we’ve already been through?”
Lyssa raises her eyebrows.
“You never heard about familiars?” She sounds genuinely surprised. “It’s not uncommon for the owners to be able to speak with their familiars, especially spellcasters. I always wanted one of these. There are so many in here… I think I could take one for our efforts, right?”
She stares at a couple of the seeds in her hand. They are very similar in shape and the colours are all pretty much the same. One of them, however, is the proverbial stranger in their midst. Instead of being entirely tear-shaped it’s tip is slightly crooked and the dark brown, almost deep red tones remind her of the dregs at the bottom of a bottle of wine.
“We’re not here to steal his stuff, Lyssa.”
Oslando hears himself speak. Stern and righteous, again. Maybe he should loosen up a bit. They are indeed providing the town and the mage a favor with this investigation. He smiles at the siren and changes his mind.
“But this one thing won’t harm him. Just ask him if we find him, okay?”
She nods vigorously and brings the kernel to her lips.
“I’m going to keep you safe”, she says after giving it a quick kiss and she puts it away. “I can’t wait to see what wonders you hold.”
They take a few steps inside, careful not to break anything else. A desk stands against the left wall and a large cupboard fills up the entire wall in front of them. On their right, between the paintings, is a small ladder leading up to a whole in the ceiling.
“Shall we all just start looking somewhere?” Mero asks this while already inspecting the art on the wall. “We’re looking for the spectator, any sign of Phenilias and something that could be tied to curing the curse.”
(History 21)
“Look at these!”
The siren holds up a ceramic jar with both her hands. Thanks to the translation stones they can read the strange symbols that make up to Abaddonian alphabet, understanding that it says ‘pet pits’. She puts it on the ground and digs in, apparently looking for something special inside.
“Morgan O’Hare, one of my former crew members, had a few of these things, traded some for a bottle of my finest wine. I wanted keelhaul him until he showed me what they were for. Depending on how you bury one of these seeds, a small familiar appears. If you bury it in mud or sand, a sea creature sprouts from the pit. Morgan’s recent pet was a piranha. It took him literally less than an afternoon to lose half of his finger. The idiot called him Captain Nibbles after that. The fish had a great sense of humor. Morgan was always laughing when talking to him.”
Bruq looks up from the scrolls he’s reading on the floor. He stops ordening them in small piles.
“A talking fish?” Bruq bleats shortly and he shakes his head. “How could that be? And how am I still amazed by these little things after all we’ve already been through?”
Lyssa raises her eyebrows.
“You never heard about familiars?” She sounds genuinely surprised. “It’s not uncommon for the owners to be able to speak with their familiars, especially spellcasters. I always wanted one of these. There are so many in here… I think I could take one for our efforts, right?”
She stares at a couple of the seeds in her hand. They are very similar in shape and the colours are all pretty much the same. One of them, however, is the proverbial stranger in their midst. Instead of being entirely tear-shaped it’s tip is slightly crooked and the dark brown, almost deep red tones remind her of the dregs at the bottom of a bottle of wine.
“We’re not here to steal his stuff, Lyssa.”
Oslando hears himself speak. Stern and righteous, again. Maybe he should loosen up a bit. They are indeed providing the town and the mage a favor with this investigation. He smiles at the siren and changes his mind.
“But this one thing won’t harm him. Just ask him if we find him, okay?”
She nods vigorously and brings the kernel to her lips.
“I’m going to keep you safe”, she says after giving it a quick kiss and she puts it away. “I can’t wait to see what wonders you hold.”
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