Ironclaw: a murder most Fowl ahaha puns

[Khador Green]

In the cold midwinter night the town itself seems to be already coming to an early sleep, the stalls of the market square already closed, the guard already changed, tavern's filled to the brim and the night courts of the nocturnal noble family in full swing.

The dock district at the best of times is not one of beauty, even with the constant attempts by the guilds and nobles to bring the district up to 'scratch' as they say. This night it looks almost ghastly, the full moon bright above bathe the streets in a silver glow, empty due to the bone chilling cold, however that is for the people who have been invited to 'The White Sail' a rather well to do inn, overlooking the western dockyards which tonight looks empty and closed the lights off and standing just by the door a small female skunk wearing heavy clothes and a rapier, within its scabbard, strapped to her side.

If you approach she moves to one side and lets you in, within is Harold de Fleuve, one of the cities unknown powers, the Badger is one of the third or even fourth party members which handles the traffic of Ore and coal through the city, however not known by many is he is the third and fourth man on nearly ALL trades of Ore in the city.

And now he sits at a table reading papers, his elderly badger fur, more grey than black, well trimmed and combed, dressed politely and warmly. When you arrive he motions for you to take a seat at his table.

'Hello my fellows, when all have arrived we will start.'

[Kaworu]

White Daniel enters the inn, cloaked in a warm fur. He was wearing a hoodie, but once inside, he put in out, letting his gorgeous white mane glow in the lights of the candles.

- Be welcome, Sir Harold - the lion said with w soft voice. Be was standing, not sure if he could sit down with the badger - It is a chilly night, isn't it? - he asked, trying to find a topic for polite conversation.

[Rakaydos]

A coach pulls up to the inn, and after a few moments of negotiation, a bat stalked into the inn, wings coiled about him like a cape, a rapier at his side and some sort of iron tube visible over his shoulder, on his back. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the inn, clicking softly, before stepping past the skunk. "Stand aside, vuman," he hissed, his accent altering his Ws- Bisclaveret, with the affectations all bats added to seem more sinister.

Stepping into the back room, he examined the others, then found himself a corner where he could watch the room. his wings dropped, revealing n less than three pistols harnessed to his chest. He waited for the meeting to begin.

The coach pulled around to the stables on the side, where it would be ready if needed.

[Prehysterical]

The full moon over the streets in the dock district only exaggerated the massive shadow of the rhino who stomped along on the empty road. Clad in leather armor over his already tough hide, breath steaming like war destrier, and armed to the teeth, the rhino looked like he was ready to wage his own private war. In a way, he had been.

The death of his lord- no, his friend- had hit Tarkus harder than anyone else outside of the Rinaldi family. He had not slept well since that night, when he had found Mario dangling from the rafters of his own bedchamber. I should have been there... But I wasn't. Now, I gotta make this right. Both the spirit of his friend and his own conscience would not rest until the murderer had been dragged into the street and made to beg for his pathetic life.

That personal crusade had gotten Tarkus into trouble with several people as his investigations skirted ever closer to the truth. Only the rhino's massive demeanor had prevented anyone's henchmen from knocking him on the head and dumping him into the river. But this de Fleuve fellow... He could be the key.

Nodding to the skunk at the door, recognizing her as a fellow bodyguard, Tarkus squeezes his frame through the door and keeps his shoulders hunched to prevent banging his head on the ceiling. Eyes settling on the old, well-to-do badger seated at the table, Tarkus figures he's identified the right man and sits down on the directly on the bar. None of the chairs present could accommodate his bulk. When Harold tells Tarkus that they will have to wait for the briefing, Tarkus resigns himself to waiting quietly and fixing this new contact with an intense stare.

[Khador Green]

Harold takes his time only as an elderly creature can, looking up occasionally as you enter his attention split between you and the harrowing stack of papers sat before him. He has a small tray of signet rings and sticks of wax of various colours, which he starts to melt to stamp each paper with a different seal.

He motions for the Lion to sit down at his table,

'Please sit we shall prepare a little'

As he finishes the last of the papers he picks up a small bell and rings it. One of the kitchen doors open in the back of the inn out comes a Raccoon servant, prim and proper, who begins to clean away the papers and tools his master has been using.

The other is snaggle toothed grey cat, his fur matted and damp in patches, missing one eye and dressed like an urchin, the smell of peat bog rolls off him. He carries a large dirty sack, which drips slightly with water.

'Sir, my apologies but we only found the one.'

The cats voice spits outs as he places the bag on the bar, it lands with a wooden thud, he then proceeds to back up to the kitchen door but not go through, standing quietly.

[Prehysterical]

Since the badger isn't being very forthcoming with answers, Tarkus decides to find his own. He picks up the bag and opens it to see what's inside.

[Khador Green]

@Tarkus: within the sack is a small wooden crate, it looks to have been recently dumped in a bog, on it side is a small crest, which denotes it as shipping crate belonging to guild authorities. Size of this crate is about the same as a large hat box or very large jewellery box.

Harold doesn't move or respond to your movements but just sighs and waves his Raccoon servant over who now carries a sheath of papers.

'Mario about a year ago came up with a scheme to take control of the markets back off the guilds. It worked but a such a slow pace that to get the level of control he wanted his grandchildren would be the toothless old men in charge. If you wonder how he arranged this with out raising anyone's attention was because of these'


The elderly Badger pulls several papers out of the sheath.

'These missives were sent to one Lady Daphne Rinaldi, a cousin of Mario, who died when he was five, to wit they were re-directed to the executer of her estate, me. In these Mario wrote his instructions, however a two months ago they took a strange turn, he became concerned by the contents of several crates, which was made more the stranger due to him never inspecting or even knowing the location of the products.'

Harold gets up from the table moving to the bar he pulls a small bottle of port.

'The crates B67, Y7 and AA1, something was in one of these crates of extreme importance, so much so Mario broke form and sent me a letter directly, not abnormal, but he never talked about this business before in any other letter to me. In these letters he asked me to check the crates, so I did the contents where as follows.'

He says returning to his seat and pulling out a small piece of paper from the sheath.

'B67, 5 master worked swords from the artisan George the Hammer of white peaks. Y7, the last known bottle of Black grape wine from the St.Leonardo chapel located in Bisclavere lands. And finally AA1'

Harold gestures to the sack in Tarkus' hand.

'A jewellery collection bought in this city, coral street market, yet to be valued.'

Harold places the paper back down on the table.

'Less than week after Mario is dead. And my men find the warehouse guard, who worked for me, dead in the crate B67, his neck snapped. Something of this stinks of foul water, these crates, the speed of Mario's trial and now my dead guardsman. The other crates were sent out by guild officials before I could do anything. Y7 currently sits in the house of the learned Klaus Doloreaux, as for the crate AA1.'

He turns to the cat in the shadows who steps forward.

'my lords it was supposidly taken for evaluation, me and my fellows watched it be taken to an empty house where two Ravens were waiting money exchanged hands they took to the skies we lost track of them till they were spotted in the bog lands due east of the city they dumped the crate there and took off again.'

[Prehysterical]

I apologize for the delay in posting.
Tarkus sits on the bar, surprised by the depths of this scheme. Why didn't he ever tell me about it? Pulling out the box for closer inspection, Tarkus asks aloud, "So what was the point of all this? Some kind of dowry for some lord's daughter? Or are these items together the three most valuable things on the market?"
Don't know which one is more appropriate, so I'll let you choose:
Obseration: [roll]1d6[/roll [roll0]
Searching: [roll1]

[Khador Green]

Harold picks up another paper from the sheath.

'The jewellery was detailed as a lucky find as they were sold for a pittance. The buyer was a guild official called Marcus Leonard, an Otter from Doloreaux lands to the north. Master shipwright for the guilds, according to reports he found the piece understanding they were worth much more than they were being sold for but not the full price. So he purchased the items and requested a valuing, this was accepted and it was supposedly done today, when it was dumped.'

Flicking through the sheets he pulls out another two pieces.

'The swords were purchased by the guild as a gift for the newly appointed Dog, Damien Tiller, now captain of the city watch, the note said for unflinching courage in the line of duty. However the location of these sword currently unknown they seem to have been removed when the body of the guard was placed in the crate. As for the wine it is rather odd it was donated to the guild by the Chapel, the only letter we could find suggest it was a thank you for much needed supplies last winter, these supplies are not mentioned. Klaus Doloreaux, a known lover of wine, was first on there list of possible people to sell it too. He bought it in moments apparently, this particular wine has a infamous history amongst wine lovers.'

Observation: Overall the crate is extremely sturdy however it is kinda large for a collection of jewellery, its large enough for about 10 bottles of wine to be stored in, so unless the collection was very large or the crate had an abundance of packing sawdust.

Search: you check every corner and its seems perfectly normal the only thing that stands out is on the bottom of the crate were there are several short deep scratches.

[Prehysterical]

After looking the crate over, Tarkus asks, "Why a crate like this for storing jewelry? You could the jewels of every noble in the city with a box like this."

[Khador Green]

Harold looks over his noes at the box in your hands.

'It was the one that it was placed into, how it is packed is not my area of control, that would be handled by the clerks of the warehouse or the guild members that stored it there. I do not know who those people are however I am aware that it was packed and registered at the guild house in the merchant quarter on the 13th day of last month.'