A Disappearance

After finally peeking her head out after keeping a low profile over recent weeks, Emma Robison heads east for a hunt and does not return. Anyone with enough skill can see signs of a struggle directly east of Shadowdale and ruts in the ground from wagon wheels heading towards the Crossroads, her holy symbol of Bane ground into the dirt along the way.

Times had been hard, and the old bounty hunting game wasn't paying like it used to. With the few coppers left in his sack it was time to change his occupation... again. This time it would have to be something with a little more security than his previous exploits. The locals had spoke of henchman work for the Dread Knight Unterminox, what could be more secure than being a dog for one of the most feared men in the Dales.

The discussion with the Dread Knight had been brief. "Find Emma Rodison", the task set out for him that played into his bounty hunting skills. "Start in Freehaven", he knew the place well, it was time to pay a little visit Tiffani. No traffic enters or leaves without her knowing.

((pm sent))

It had been a while since he had stepped into the caverns of Freehaven. The last time he was here is was on the trail of the run away Falk. That bounty hadn't ended well and the guards wouldn't be too well pleased to see him stroll into town again. Nothing a sack of gold wouldn't fix, every man has their price, turn a blind eye here, a deaf ear there. Damn, he thought to himself, if a paladin worked like this they could set all the slaves free. Only problem being that that 'price' was every coin in his sack.

Information in this town wasn't free and the irony of the towns name wasn't lost to him. Knowing Tiffani, like he did, she wouldn't sing like bird without a little greasing of the wheels. Grease he no longer had. Good thing Hadhran owed him a favor and it was time to collect.

Hadhran, busy rubbing down a glass stein, hadn't noticed him come in until he was standing by the bar wrapping his fingers in rhythmic timing. Hadhran wasn't to well pleased to see him either, blood stains are a difficult thing to clean up and are bad for business. As to why the elf kept to the debt, Boyd could only guess, perhaps he was honor bound or perhaps simply if he carried out the favor he'd leave his establishment quicker. It didn't take long for Hadhran to come back with the information he needed.

Stubbing out his cigar on the bar, he picked himself up off the barrel and made his way to the Dancing Homunculus. It was time to have a little chat with Zakran about the masked man with Emma and what room they had stayed in.

Like Tiffani, Zakran would be just as tight lipped, only difference being, that if you leaned on Tiffani you'd end up face down in the desert were as no one gave a shit about that pissant Inn manager Zakran. He folded like a deck of cards.

A masked man carrying an unconscious woman matching Emma's description wouldn't go unnoticed. The only way to get a room in a place like this it with a little identification, he knew this since he had spent some time in this hole as a citizen. All he would need was a name, and the name he got. John Dudley, a malnourished, hunched over, ugly son of a bitch. He had stayed in the Sky room. One other thing, Zakran mentioned, he was acting nervous, as if he were being made to do this.

Boyd made his way up stairs to the room. He had an aptitude for springing locks but this one though gave him a bit of bother, so he kicked the door through. It had been empty for sometime, there were few clues except for bit of rope he found between the bed and the wall. The ruckus of kicking in the door brought the attention of a bouncer who quickly threw Boyd out on his ass. Dusting himself off, he turned to the cross armed bouncer standing in the door way and flipped him the one fingered salute.

Wondering out of the main gate he caught the gate man out of the corner of his one good eye. Then it hit him, who else but the gate man would know what this John Dudley looked like. No gets in or out without first registering, and you can't register if the gate man doesn't know what you look like. It turns out John Dudley is a slave roughly 6' tall with brown hair and brown eyes.

A slave! The slave den would have documents on who they sell their 'goods' to. Time to find out who owns, John Dudley.

He nods to the slaver at the den for the information and leaves Freehaven disgruntled. It had been an expensive venture and the trail had turned cold. He stared out northward over the night dunes and thought to himself that not even the tracker Moonwhisper would find the trail in that dust. All he had to show for his efforts were two names, the slave and his master. The masters name he did not know.

The elapse of time had corroded away like cheap iron in a stream and prospects of finding Emma again was looking dismal. It was a bad idea to go back to the Dread Knight and tell him he had failed. He may as well have shat in his own hand for all the good that would have done. Dead eye, as some of the locals had taken to calling him recently, had turned to asking the bar flies out by the Royal Oak. One of them happened to mention that he saw someone matching that description being carried off into the winter wastelands. It wasn't much but it was something to go on.

He knew the very person to talk to. The white witch, May'katcha, those frozen wastes were her domain. If anyone knew anything about the goings on in that frozen hell it would be her. He prepared himself for journey and made his way out there. He knew to fear the witch, it was wise to, the reputation of her power proceeded her. The snow crumpled below his feet as he approached the foot of mountain, he could see her up ahead, with company. His chat was brief and to the point, he didn't want to spend any more time there than he had to.

“A paladin of Torm has her” he cursed to himself as he left with what the white witch and her fellow Furies had told him. That meant a visit to Myth Drannor, but first it was time to collect on another bounty. Fate had smiled on him today, it was the first good thing that had happened all day, an old contract just happened to walk by him in the field.

He turned to the contract and called out his name and the target stopped in his tracks, faced him in puzzlement and asked how he knew him. Boyd pulls a tattered and aging contract from his pouch and tossed it at his feet. “There's a price on your head...” He rest his hand on his blade “...And I aim to collect”. The contract began to stall for time, just like the rest but in the end, like most other, his head ended up in Boyd's pack. “It a pleasure doing business with you” the private contractor beamed as Duncan delivered the head to him. Saying nothing Duncan took his coin and left the Old Skull tavern. His one good eye noticed the Dread Knight and sure enough the Dread Knight noticed him.

He was called upon and there was nothing else for it but to shit in his hand and offer it. Fidheliss was obviously not happy at his progress. He didn't want to see Duncan again until he had Emma with him and he wouldn't have if Duncan hadn't have needed to take care of other business and refill his coin purse. Duncan had expected to not to come out of this discussion in one piece, so he was surprised when he left the room on his on accord. He lit up a cigar and made his way out of Shadowdale headed for forest.

He hadn't walked the path to the temple and orphanage in a long time, not since the burning. Finding Emma in the temple he thought would be his best bet. Those 'up their own arse' paladins had few other places to fester. However, what he found was something he hadn't expected. Looking up at the wall and past the gate he saw a village that hadn't been there before. “Well make gentle love me pink” his cigar stub fell from his lips. These pissant refugees and built themselves a new home here. Finding Emma here was going to take a trick.

It didn't take long to find her, rustle a few feathers and push a little weight around and these elves sing like the birds. That was the problem with these knife ears, all far too overly defensive, that made it easier to get a guilty lie than a honest truth. The encounter had happened on the pathway, and she was indeed accompanied by the paladin the white witch had spoken about. The white witch had proven useful, he had to make a mental note of that. He had addressed her for whom she was and saw the fear in her eyes. It was then that the shining knight in armour stood forth and told him that the woman's name was 'Krysdan' and not the Emma he was looking for. Thinking quickly he agreed that she indeed was the wrong women, playing coy, and moved on.

Unterminox had told him that she would come back willingly, though he knew if she was going under the pretence of another name then surely she had been brainwashed by this paladin. It was time for a letter.

Quote :

Coronal,

My name is Duncan Boyd and I am a Mercenary in hire for the Wardens and a self claimed bounty hunter. I have been hired by a private party, the father, to track down the his child "Emma Robison" and return her home. My investigations began in Freehaven, my own home territory, were I was informed that she was last seen. It turns out a slave by the name of John Dudley, was seen carrying her unconscious into the Dancing Homunculus. This slave belongs to a man named Edward Seymour. I lost the trail of her after the slave John left the Dancing Homunculus, days before I got there, and vanished into the dunes. 

This is where one piece of the puzzle ends and the next one begins, and the pieces do not match. I found out later that she had been seen again in the presence of a Paladin in Myth Drannor here. With some persistence I found Emma in the presence of said paladin. However, the paladin informed me I had the wrong woman and her name was Krysadin or some such. I am worried that Emma has been the victim of brain washing and I would like matter investigated.

Details on Emma Robison is that she is indeed a Zhent officer in your realm. First I will make it clear that I am not working for the Zhent as everyone I have encountered accuses me of being. Assumption being the mother of all f*** ups as they say. I do not take political posted bountys as they are bad for business. I work for private employers only. 

Secondly, this could be a ruse by Emma to infiltrate and spy on the community. I don't believe this since it is to much of an elaborate way enter the community, but it is a possibility. You may want to consider this if you under take any investigation.

Or thirdly Emma, which I'm more likely to believe, has been kidnapped and is being brainwashed. Perhaps this Paladin hopes to offer Emma redemption from her past with a new identity and life. A noble pursuit, however, I personally feel kidnapping and brainwashing is unacceptable in any lawful society. She should be given the choice to come to this decision on her own and not forced into it. I hope you feel the same way.

I am staying at the local tavern I you wish to reply to this message.

Boyd

Days passed, with no response nor action, he had been ignored. This paladin obviously had influence here, it was time to take matters into his own hands. A song, an old song of time, life and death he had heard the old bard sing many times at the Bastards Sword. He found the message within the song subtle and wondered if it was sung to her she would pick up on it too. Perhaps not, only time would tell.

It was early morning when he approached them. He pulled the cigar from his lips, ignored their responses and drew his doss lute.

I can hear what you're thinking,
All your doubts and fears,
And if you look in my eye, in time you'll find,
The reason I'm here.

You know your days are numbered,
Count them one by one,
Like notches in the handle of an outlaw's awn.
You can outrun your Demons, ...if you try,
But you'll never outrun the hands of time.

In time all things shall pass away,
In time you may come back some say.
To live once more, or die once more,
But in time, your time will be no more.

His song and his message to her ended with him getting more than he had bargained for. He was sure he would anger the Paladin, he had not expected to anger Emma as well. It seemed his hunch on the Paladin was correct. This man had power, and now jail time followed.