Flayed Man 17

Malik still seems to be recovering from whatever went wrong with the scrying last time, rubbing at his eyes. "East side," he sighs. "Near the airship docks. Some kind of warehouse, I think, from the look, and the noise." He glances over at Iskandar, looking grumpy. "Looks like it's you and me, biggun. Let's hope you're better with people than I am. Or can at least provide a healthy distraction."

GAME: Malik rolls Appraise: (18)+6: 24 to Whirlpool

Malik orders a drink at the bar, slamming a shot back in an attempt to clear his head. He stares at the glass for a moment, and then looks back at the shelf, brow wrinkling. "Spirits," he mutters, like there's something he's forgetting. Turning to Iskandar, he says, "There were crates, and ... barrels. Spirits, I think. Imported, with Khazad script. Looked expensive. Ring a bell?"

"Khazad spirits? Yes! Althouh I usually prefer wine." Iskandar rubs his chin. "But yes, as far as finding the warehouse...hmm, I wonder if we can ask around and see if anyone is known for importing such goods."

GAME: Iskandar rolls diplomacy: (17)+9: 26

Malik nods, gesturing toward the door. "Good. Lead the way, then. Let's see if my headache makes me feel like shooting anyone in the face less by the time we get there."

It's not exactly easy.

You have some ideas, of course, and so you're off top the upper east side of the city near the airship docks and *their* ware houses to ask about shipments of Khazadi spirits. You spent most of the night in bars and amongst workers, trying to find someone who remembers a recently delivered caseload of spirits and who remembers what warehouse the spirits were delivered to.

For one, it's a weird line of questioning, and for two, not everyone wants to share those kinds of details. Still, as the hour grows later and people deeper in their cups and alongside ISkandar's friendly face and connections, you begin to make progress.

Iskandar is enjoying himself immensely. He nods and listens and refills drinks. Now this is his kind of investigating.

<OOC> Malik rolls diplo for aid another because why not. <OOC> Whirlpool says, "Sure!" GAME: Malik rolls Diplomacy: (2)+6: 8 <OOC> Whirlpool says, "I mean, what are the odds you'll roll under 10--" <OOC> Whirlpool says, "DAMN IT MALIK" <OOC> Malik says, "Nope. No help whatsoever." <OOC> Whirlpool XD <OOC> Whirlpool says, "The dc is 10! 10!!!" <OOC> Whirlpool says, "Pose, and then I'll move us forward :)" <OOC> Malik says, "It's not a 1! I didn't hurt!"

Malik tries. He honestly, earnestly tries. But the wizard doesn't make much headway. Maybe it's the accent. Maybe it's the fact that he acts like he's smarter than everyone else in the room. (Because he is, obviously.) But whatever the reason, his efforts don't seem to be helping much.

Progress! Drinking occurs, even a littel bit, and eventually you've gotten directed to a crew that might have delivered Khazadi barrels today. ISkandar's connection helps, and it isn't long before you've got a line on them and are talking to them.

Seems they did deliver a set of expensive liqours to a warehouse. it takes a little time, but you're soon able to discover which one, and it's the best lead you've gotten, even if it cost you a whole lotta coin in the form of booze buying yourself.

The warehouse is easy enough to verify the location of, and indeed, it looks familiar enough, like it COULD be where Malik's vision took place. The details fit right, from where the windows are to how the sun would've hit it at that hour.

Iskandar pauses around the corner from the warehouse they suspect is The warehouse. "Should we go inside? Or wait and watch?"

Malik looks around, considering. "It's dark," he says. "And there are windows. I think that I can find a good vantage point." He looks to Iskandar, shrugging. "If you want to stay and be quiet, that might be helpful. If you want to be loud and distracting, that might also be helpful. I leave it to your discretion." And with that, the wizard takes a step forward -- and then a step -up-, moving through the air as easily as he might the ground, and faster to boot, doing his best to stick to the dark parts where torches and manalamps don't illuminate.

GAME: Malik rolls Stealth: (19)+20: 39

With Malik's approach, and a look through the windows, he can easilly find that this definitely seems to be the right place! There doesn't appear to be anyone inside at the moment, however. Then again, thsi is probably not surprising.

Still, it *does* appear to be the right place.

GAME: Malik rolls Spellcraft: (5)+21: 26 GAME: Malik rolls Perception: (8)+20: 28

Iskandar stays behind the corner, watching with interest. He considers being loud and distracting. But in the end his curiousity makes him stay silent and watch. He does take out a short bow, and readies an arrow.

For a professionla, breaking into a warehouse is not difficult at all. It isn't long before Malik's search has borne fruit, too.

He locates the area he saw, with the casks of spirits, and also identifies, very quickly, the magical trap that was left in his wake from a distance. It's well concealed, hidden amongst the casks of alcohol. A single, red gem. An orb from a necklace of fireballs.

That is quickly noticed. What is also noticed is a set of runes inscribed in trade upon the barrels.

GAME: Malik rolls Reflex+1+2: (8)+16+1+2: 27 GAME: Malik casts Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 14 DC: 17 GAME: Malik rolls 1d20+14: (13)+14: 27

Malik manages to slip in, leaving Iskandar behind to watch the perimeter in case anyone shows up. The inside of the warehouse is rather dark, and he moves slowly, taking his time to look for any manner of trap, magical or otherwise.

Which is when he spots the one that the other caster left for him.

The piece of the necklace of fireballs gets his attention first, and the runes on the barrel can only be one thing. He doesn't read them. He doesn't need to. The words of the spell are on his lips before he can think, reaching out with the magic to suppress the other caster's, rip it awsy.

For the most part, he even manages to succeed. The incendiary blast that was promised by the khazadi spirits never comes, the fiery orb winking out as the magic reaches over. But the spell apparently wasn't enough to keep the runes from exploding, which burst the casket, sending booze everywhere.

"Amateur -prick-," Malik whispers to himself, looking down at the new droplets of alcohol that soaks his clothing, the cantrip to dry himself already on his lips. The last thing that the wizard needs is to pass too close to a candle and become one himself.

It's not like the barrel didn't make more noise anyway. No sense in being overly quiet now, though he seems ready for anything at this point.

Iskandar tilts his head and listens. Despite his line of work explosions aren't something he's heard too many times before and it takes him a few moments to recognize the roaring sound. Then his eyes widen. He runs for the warehouse, cursing himself for not accompanying Malik in the first place.

Iskandar will find Malik showered in booze inside admist a pile of smoking, shattered ale barrels. Someone just lost their *very* expensive shipment.

But you're in the right place. A discerning eye will find ash marks on the ground from where SOMEONE met a grisly fate if one recalls Malik's descriptrion of what occurred, none too far from the explodewd barrels, which are doing their level best to wash away his ash.

Malik isn't hard to spot. He's in the middle of the ashes, scooping up at least some of them into a small pouch, cursing as he looks around for any other clues before the ale manages to wash them away. He seems unhurt though. Focused, determined, and a bit angry if his face is to be any judge. "Look for anything useful," he tells Iskandar. "I think we've little enough time."

Iskandar stares at Malik. He tries to understand what he's doing. Then finally he shakes his head and begins searching through the warehouse. He starts on the opposite side from where the blast occured, hoping to find something in the areas least touched.

You're also able to find some burnt up papers, or well, the ashes of them. Seems like he set them aflame and let the remains fritter away as he left. There's not enough to be able to do anything with them conventionally but, well... perhaps magic, no?

Either way, you've got the best you can get in terms of evidence here, the remains of a murder victim and some papers.

ALso, you smell like booze. Well, Malik does anyway.

Iskandar returns from a somewhat fruitless search of the far side of the warehouse. "I think whatever there is to find, will be here, in this area. Our sorcerer still covers his tracks."

Malik finds the remains of the papers, scooping up all of the ash into a different pouch, glancing at the bits of parchment. "He's reckless," he sighs. "Used to flashy magics that kill and destroy. That might be to our advantage. I'm not sure that he knows what the subtler magics are capable of. Those with magic in the blood rarely manifest it in such ways." Once he seems convinced that he's gotten everything he can get from this place, he gives Iskandar a nod. "Alright. We should go before the guard arrives. We can't afford a delay."