As they walked, Drakor slipped next to Arius.
“What blade do you wield?” he asked softly.
The creek is only a few minutes to the east, running roughly north to south, though there’s a bit of a delay as Leta secures permission to search the stretch of it that runs through the land where Hasse Holm’s family lives.
(“And just why do you need to do that?”
“We’ve got reason to suspect there’s a missing person.”
“Hmph.” He raises an eyebrow. “And why is it my problem what happened to some trespasser?”
“We don’t think he was trespassing, Messire Holm.” It’s a bit of a stretch to apply that term of address to him , but it seems to mollify him. “It’s the gentleman who was passing through last night.”
“Well, I suppose that’s alright. But damage anything and you’ll pay for it, you hear me?”)
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The creek itself is burbling on, just as it usually does. But, near the north of the property, the stranger from yesterday is lying face-down in the river, his body caught on a protruding root.
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Not knowing why his masked friend whispered, the man in scale mail goes along with the flow and replies softly back: “It’s called a scimitar. See the curved blade at the tip?”
He then unsheathes his sword to show Drakor the shape of the blade. “It’s designed this way with cutting in mind.”
By this point Arius forgets to whisper and enthusiastically starts talking about his scimitar. He does not yell, but there is most definitely no sign of covertness present.
((Actual monologue:)) “This sword won’t fare well as a stabbing tool, but as a cutting tool it flows neatly. It would have been better if I were to mount a steed so I can add more speed to my slashes, but uh… those are neither cheap to buy nor cheap to feed.”
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((Everyone just sees this? No perception checks needed? If so…))
“Hey uh… Is that person still alive over there?” Arius points at the body in the river.
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Drakor matched his enthusiasm, asking clarifying questions and paying rapt attention to the metalwork.
“Fascinating. Do you have another weapon for your off hand? Does the reverse edge cut well? Are there particular moves that you favor? If-”
As they approached the creek, he trailed off as he saw the body, then darted forwards towards it.
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(I would like to check if he’s alive)
“Messire Kaver! Can you hear me?” Drakor tapped the man’s shoulders with his hands, then briskly slapped his face.
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The man is unresponsive. It moves, but only in the sense that almost any object in water will move if you give it a shove.
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Drakor attempted to drag the man out of the water.
Arius is hesitant on helping out Drakor, but ultimately decides to aid the masked man drag the unresponsive body out of the water.
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The pair of you are easily able to drag his body onto the shore. He’s dressed in the same clothing he was wearing yesterday, but his body has sustained several injuries – it would take a closer examination to determine more specifics, but he’s sustained several cuts, including a gash down his stomach, and he’s acquired several bruises as well. Even from a glance, though, it’s easy to be certain that he’s dead.
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“Well, that settles it,” says the militia member who was casting suspicion on Wanderer earlier. “He was the last one to speak to him, he knew where to find him… what more proof do you need?”
Leta rubs her forehead. “I agree that it’s suspicious, but it would still be a good idea to do a full investigation, just to confirm his guilt.”
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“It wasn’t him.”
Drakor blinked. “Where did you come from?” he asked, hand halfway to his dagger.
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I can’t be slow. I can’t give them the advantage of talking. Spit it out.
“I saw him walk through the village until far past the meeting. He and the dead man seperated with no harm done.”
“It. Wasn’t. Him.”
Hi! To find out what I can do, say @discobot display help.
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Drakor frowned, but said nothing.
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I can feel my left hand shake. I move it behind my back, in an attempt to hide my nervousness.
This isn’t right, so I’m doing this to help the stranger. That’s what this is. I have to do it. Because it is right and someone is in trouble.
A rigid and awkward smile is plastered on Arius’ face. He internally laments sheathing his scimitar to help out Drakor drag the corpse out of the water. His left arm -protected by a spiked gauntlet- holds the scabbard, as he prepares himself for a potential combat against the stranger.
However, his bare right hand did not come anywhere near the handle, as he hopes the situation can be diffused and de-escalated.
“Now, now… Let’s not get hasty… Let us start with introductions, yeah? My name is Arius, and you are…?”
I don’t look. I can’t give them the feeling of pushing me onto my back foot.
I don’t need to deal with the fighters. They can’t-won’t kill me. We’re in public. The guard is watching. I don’t need to be afraid of them. I don’t need to feel threatened.
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