It was all a misunderstanding… how was I to know she was married… Well, here I am, crusty old man and a new confessor. And a wild man (gods know I could smell him from the other building). New mission it seems, go find a courier holed up in an inn.
Anyway, off to [the Evil Flute The Evil Flute. The bar wench was a good … hostess. Very eager. Oh, that’s right, courier. In through the old back entrace, grab a brew and off to get the courier.
Upstairs, two hired goons. Dalmaen decides to feign entry to our room. I don’t think they bought it. Geir, typical confessor, all balls no… oh shit, they’re drawing. Jump in, fast, strike first. I’ll take that ear as a reminder of their stupidity.
Gods, Dalmaen near decapitated the poor sod.
His buddy doesn’t look so resolved to deny us entry after Geir’s threat, is that a puddle? A last ditch swing before Dalmaen nearly puts him on his arse. Geir gives him a new smile. Messy.
Now, who was in the room with our target?
Shit, he’s going out the window.
Yoink, pocket that ear.
What the? Dalmaen is a caster? And a savage. What’s the kingdom coming to. This deal with the confessors just gets better by the day. And it’s day fucking one!
Door breached, there’s an open window and a corpse. At least my day is going better than some. Looks like I’m not the only one collecting body parts either, perhaps Geir is not so bad to work with after all. A bunch of letters to go with the fingers, addressed to various nobles and one to Malrog.
According to Dalmaen, a dark magical presence was in the room. Geir seems interested in the evil looking tatoos on the two former goons, though the significance escapes me at this stage. Time to report back to the confessors on this development.
Bouncers, great. Time for me to depart. Not going to the lockup again.
Back at base, looks like we got the information we needed. Some followup work for the academically inclined while I retire for some after hours activities.