2. Beregost

The strained air rattles in the corpse's throat. "The camp is well-hidden, but has no fortifications. Many of the mercenaries wield bows or crossbows. There is distrust and rivalry between the Blacktalons and the Chill." More air sucks through the dead lips in a dry wheeze. "They are not unified, and know little of each other. It is a willful ignorance."

Stella takes detailed notes of the mage's answers in her tome as they present their questions, as well as adds her own commentary.

Deep in the Woods of Sharp Teeth, just north of Peldvale...well-hidden, no fortifications. She had magic that could help them approach quietly, if they needed. Many archers, but distrust and rivalry...They could use that. Some clever misdirection with her familiar, illusion spells, and their patch they took from the Chill member...Sew a little discord and distraction, and thy could potentially infiltrate with relative ease. Or get them to destroy themselves even.

Stella shifts uncomfortably, as she realizes she's writing as if she had already decided to stay.

As the animating magic begins to seep away, the corpse whispers one last informative answer: "Racist pride."

Stella frowns. It was a simple answer, but a silly one. A dangerous one. But they could leverage it.

"I wonder how loyal he was to Tazok, though..." Stella says, when the body goes still. "How much of what he said is actually true, I mean? The location, the few fortifications, the division...It seems possible enough, though. Few fortifications could make their operation harder to find, but why would he bring up the division? Still, if that's true, it could be very useful..." she muses, continuing to write and sketch.

Ideas of misdirection rotated through her mind like constellations through the sky. Noctalia snatching a keepsake from one group, leaving it near tracks of the other group. Illusions of a mercenary skulking about or taunting the hobgoblins. Leaving a suspicious note from a Chill member near the Blacktalons, spreading rumors...And then as tensions peak, prepare in the Flaming Fist when fighting breaks out or just while their guard is focused on the other side, rather than outside.

Stella stops writing and blinks, surprised at the depth of her manipulative plotting. Perhaps she had spent too much time around Caliope, she wonders.

Dieter snickers a bit to himself.

How can you ally yourself with someone you willfully hate and distrust.

"We could use that against them. These people don’t have rules like you and I. They’re probably already planning it themselves." Dieter says with his arms folded.

Ida watches the party muse over what they want to relay through her and what questions they had for the corpse to answer. She listens intently to the questions and answers although she has very little context on who or what they were talking about.

"Seems as if have all gotten yourself into a spot of trouble" Ida says as the body in the floor lay limp, the pitiful amount of life force granted to it diminished. "If you do not plan on leaving till morning I would personally recommend spending the night in the guest quarters where a hot meal and reasonably comfortable bedding can be provided." Ida retrieves a sturdy leather backpack from her closet and sets about putting various items into it, almost as an after thought she turns and adds "On your way out will you please dispose of the corpse? I would hate for it to stain the carpet." She turns back and continues to pack searching various closets and drawers for items she recalls being important while adventuring.

"So you are coming? Okay, just don’t say I didn’t warn you." Dieter warns continuing his tough guy act.

"Oh! Well, thank you." Stella is surprised by Ida's offer to use the guest quarters. She was cold, but it seemed she did care. Sleeping in the serene temple sound infinitely more comforting than in an inn where more assassins might lay in wait. "I think we have a bit more business to take care of before sleeping, but yes, we'll take care of the body," she assures Ida.
"Oh, er..." she stammers. "Dieter's right. This man and others were sent to kill us. We upset people just by showing up at Candlekeep, and assassins like this one have been after us since..." She gestures to the body. "We still don't know exactly why, but everyone who travels with us gets added to the bounty notices we find." Stella draws her lips to a line for a moment, then smiles. "But if you do want to join us, a healer like yourself could help us stay alive even better until we can put a stop to it...or until we leave."

Ida rustles in her closet I know it's in here somewhere she straightens up in satisfaction facial expression still neutral as she pulls her chainmail from a forgotten corner.

"I appreciate your concern but this isn't my first dealing with assassins" she says placing the chainmail on the bed.

I should go to the armory and get my crossbow, warhammer and shield if it really will be as dangerous as they're implying

Turning back to the party Ida says "If you follow me I will show you to the guest quarters and notify the staff that you require bedding and a meal. Kelddath won't be finished with the resurrection for another half hour or so but I'm sure he won't want to be disturbed again tonight after such an intense spell."

"Oh, well that's good, I suppose. Er...well, not good that you've had to deal with assassins before, but good that you now have experience!" she clarifies.

"Sleep and a meal sounds lovely, but we need to investigate the assassin's room at Feldepost's Inn in case there's any more clues there," she explains. "Then we should probably talk to Officer Vai...and Taerom...the assassin burnt down his smithy and home tonight while coming after us..." She looks to the others to see if they agree or not.

The proprietor, Feldepost himself, gives the dirty and bloodied party a pointed look as they enter his clean common room. "This is an inn, not a battleground nor a healer's tent. I trust you'll find accommodations more to your taste at one of Beregost's other establishments."

Stella pauses and looks down at herself at the rest of her companions. They didn't look that bad, did they? Stella had cleaned all the wounds, Ida healed them all, and Aiwë had cleaned up their bloodstains. Well, most of them, it seemed. And there was little any of them could do about the fire.

After the fireball, it seemed her travel skirt was little more than rags at this point, and her legging and armor were scorched. She blushes, a few eye stars shifting to pink. Her warding had saved her hair at least. The others—especially Aiwë—did look ragged and scorched even after they had recuperated.

They definitely needed to invest in a new wardrobe, Stella decided. She opens her tome and scratching a few notes.

She decided to let Aiwë or someone else take the lead here. She could read people well, but talk to them? Less so.

"am I and my kin not welcome here, Feldepost?" Dieter makes a disappointing tsk "I guess I’ll remember this next time there is trouble about." Beregost was a small town and loosing one family would sting especially one as industrious as Tulfgar’s

Feldepost's eyes flick to Dieter's face, then to his odd clothes. "Ah yes, the lanky, beardless son of a dwarf." The other patrons chuckle. "Tell me, how is Tulfgar's business doing? Last I heard, his... toys... were not selling well. Such a shame for a craftsman to fall so far." More chuckles. Feldepost bows mockingly low. "It seems my guests find you amusing, Dunstan. How can I be of assistance this late hour?"

"we are here to inspect the rooms of the assassins you harboured. We pray that your Involvement is merely accidental but.. I’m having doubts. Do not hinder us, we are acting on the Fist’s behalf." Dieter orders. On the outside he is stoic but he is seething with rage dangerously close to the surface."stay seated everyone! Mr. Feldepost’s establishment has been found in connection with the assassins that destroyed our smithy and killed its workers. We will be conducting an investigation and then leaving. Enjoy your food and drinks" Dieter has never lied before and why would he now. Nothing he said was a lie but definitly lacked context…hopefully.

Feldepost's oily demeanor shifts to indignation. "What do you speak of, boy? What assassins?If there's any kernel of falsehood in your claims, I'll see you punished for such slander!" He exhales heavily though his nose. "Who is under suspicion? Which of my benevolent customers?"

"You’ll have time for questions, guide us to Tranzing’s room, he may have gone by a false name but we know he stayed here… I remember when this was the place for finer sorts." Dieter beckons feldepost onward.

Lips drawn to a firm frown, Feldepost leads the party up to the second floor of the inn and to a room that overlooks the street. "This is Tranzig's room. I warn you, boy, he's a powerful wizard. You mess with his things and get caught, I won't protect you."

The room is much like the rest of the inn: ornate and clean. There's a four-poster bed with neatly-folded blankets, a small writing desk and chair, and a wooden armoire of impressive craftsmanship.

"Tranzig is dead, Feldepost. I killed him, He betrayed this town and attacked the smithy. If you don’t help us to the best of your ability then it will be I that cannot help you." Dieter says pivoting towards their "host" "now how did you know he was a wizard?" Dieter blocks him in the room. He passively positions himself in the way but it is firm and real.