>>5535860>>5535866>>5535883>>5535893>>5535929>>5535967>>5536091>>5536099>Examine his (now bent) thurible wand.>Look to the note hidden in his cloak.>Examine the cloak itself.You examine the thurible wand first–with it warped down the middle, chain knotted about the rod, the wand was a far more formidable threat in the hands of that hitman. The DYADIC WAND, a gift from your mother, is one of few wands that can manage the sheer font of your power, anyways–but still, it could prove useful. You might be able to get it set right if you came into contact with a smith.
You turn your attention next to the note. The sheaf of parchment was kept pristine, the scrawl on it in trim cursive. You would imagine the consignor of the message was confident it wouldn’t slip into the hands of a nosy second party. The letter reads as such:
“LUD CORNWALL, HERMITIC GLASSMITH. WARNED TWICE, FAILED THRICE. POLICE TAKEN CARE OF. NO WITNESSES. MAKE IT VIOLENT. REMIND THE WORLD WHY MAD WIZARDS OUGHT TO KEEP THEIR MOUTHS SHUT ABOUT MATTERS THAT DO NOT CONCERN THEM.”
“I knew it.” You mutter under your breath as you fold the paper into your cloak–the CONSPIRACY reaches far, it seems. You turn your attention back to the final article of interest, the assassin’s cloak lay slewn out across the grass. The cloth looks almost phantasmic.
You sling the reaper’s hood up over your shoulder–to perhaps mend the cloth into some wear for your master, or upcycle it into a nice chicken outfit–and, to your surprise, more assassin’s paraphernalia falls out from the pocket. The small, ornate black daggers sticks up like a weed from the field of green.
Your surprise is cut short by yet another. The dagger explodes into a thick mushroom of white smoke that near knocks you onto your butt. And before you sits the pickpocket BREDBEDDLE, on her head the rat ALGERNON.
“Pleasedon’tkillme–” The gnome shrieks, hands up. “Eh..? Huh?”
>What do you do? 