A door in the basement of the Crossed Hammers Co. contained, well, horrors. Bodies in various states of decay laid on tables and nearby surfaces. most had some kind of head "surgery" or incision -- mostly missing parts of brain. The people (the bodies) are notably well-off and clothed ("clothed in what they came in"). I count 26 bodies. Master Theo connected the missing brain bits to the temporal bombs of which we found 4.
Calling upon Abadar's grace, Master Murg pulled at the fabric of life to speak to one of the dead victims. Another elf, a young one, stabbed the one we interviewed with a poisoned blade. The elf called himself Argyle. The victim was a diplomat from the Hallowed Isles working in Bezia.
Master Murg asked another, a female elf; this one was taken from her home. She was controversial, in that she supported (voted for as a politician) Bezia joining the Arcadian Accord. She mentioned as well a Lord Reginald (another victim).
Izol found a small lockbox on a shelf in the room. Picking it up, he unwittingly triggered a tripwire that sprang a poisonous dart directly into his shoulder. Again, thankfully Master Murg was there to lend Abadar's light to relieve Izol of the poison. Izol continued then, opening the lockbox and a chest underneath it. The chest contained files and papers, research that proves the Crossed Hammers targetted all of the deceased (and no more). Again, all targets were nobility (who hired the Crossed Hammers assuming the company would perform work). We have evidence (nearby) that some of the Crossed Hammers are masquerading as beggars or poorer folk (notably, big-sized [orcish] men).
Bomb Squad Cat
While the party was investigating a magical trap, Steel was finishing collecting parts and tools in the alchemy chamber. When he reunited with the group -- to find them assaulting an arcanomechnical trap of a glyph and tripwire on one wall. Wordlessly, he strode up to the wall, knelt down with his artificer's tools (complete with a welder's mask), and a minute later snipped the offending arcanomechanical trap cleaning off to nullify the danger. Needless to say, the group was pleasantly shocked. Thanks to this, the group was able to safely investigate the rest of the room: the Crossed Hammers have a multitude of uniforms and disguised meant to work together (en mass disguises for groups). Izol and Steel muse over them before taking one of the "sets". Much to Steel's self-dismay, he takes a set of Vecti uniforms (to fit to the party members). "Disgusting and vile".
Disaster Strikes
Upon leaving, Master Theo squared everything out with the guards he had hailed to stand guard at the crime scene. We left, pondering what next to do, as Theo sent a
message to Administrator Connor about what we had learned. The response:
The captain is dead.
We raced to the castle, and up to the warroom with Admin Connor. The Crossed Hammers showed up to break the dwarf en route to his captivity, slaughtering the captain and his regiment with basilisk venom (melting the man inside the armor). There were at least four assailants.
Connor also added that Argyle was part of a group called (simply) The Bloodied Collective. He also connected the dots for us: there is a gala dinner tonight to be held at the castle.
Sapphire's Quarters
With a spark of inspiration, Steel took Izol with him to his sister's quarters, to fetch the group something to wear. He found two outfits, for himself and for Theo, before leaving Sapphire's bead behind for her to find.
Reconvened, Admin Connor brought us to a hallway before the feasting room. The gala had already begun, and we threw on our disgusies -- Stell helping Theo into his Tired Sands garb, Master Izol putting on makeup and "doing his hair", and Master Murg praying. Steel was to play the part of Ebon Badger, Sapphire's (and his own) brother.
Admin Connor: "these nobles are non-human supports and some 'racists'. Ignore them the best you can. The four of you are Veradin nobles contracted as advisers in Sapphire's absence."
A Night to Remember
As we pressed inside, the party was in full swing before we showed up. A shame, then, the demise that weighs above our heads.