[18e06] TBD

The session opened with the team receiving a thorough briefing from the real Mallory at SPI Headquarters—confirmed genuine by Freki’s nose—who informed them that Kerwin Ulvas had been found dead that morning, with the Warlocks of the Archfiend already sealing the scene. Mallory outlined the key players, including Kerwin’s ex-wife Serelda Voth and her legal team at Vorak and Solm, the potentially invaluable witness Taelin Fosse, and the dangerous bodyguards Galloc and Preen—the latter believed to be in possession of the missing carafe. He assigned five investigative priorities, funded the team with five hundred gold pieces, and set firm ethical limits on SPI’s involvement. Notably, Vondal raised the sharp legal point that the carafe’s influence on Kerwin’s sanity might invalidate his divorce from Serelda, potentially making her his heir and undermining her lawsuit against Callie—an angle Mallory agreed to explore with Taelin. Before departing, Ozborn cheekily pickpocketed Mallory’s personal notes—a charming hand-drawn sheet of stick figures and dagger doodles—and Callie quietly checked on the mysteriously sleeping Cassandra, whose own divine aura seemed to cast an impossible shadow, suggesting she had been magically suppressing her need for rest until her body finally gave out.

The team teleported to Trell, where their contact Vex briefed them further and provided addresses for Kerwin’s finance manager Xarlus Shale and Serelda Voth, urging them to reach Xarlus before the Warlocks did. A notable moment of tension arose when Highmark Ventures was mentioned—Vex went briefly but visibly still, betraying quiet unease beneath his composed exterior. The party found Xarlus in a surprisingly sparse apartment, groggy and stunned by the news of Kerwin’s death, though his first instinct was to simply suggest resurrecting his boss. He confirmed that Highmark-linked security had been contracted through a shell company and that Serelda’s lawyers had made repeated visits to the office, though he had been excluded from those meetings. The conversation was cut short when rapid footsteps on the stairs heralded the arrival of a fiery young tiefling representing the Infernal Order of Asmodeus, demanding entry—leaving the party scrambling out windows and clinging to rafters as the Warlocks moved in to claim their own piece of the investigation.

The morning began with the team assembling in the communal briefing room at SPI Headquarters, where the real Mallory—not his changeling double, Eeoram—emerged from his office to greet them. Freki, whose keen nose had grown attuned to the subtle synthetic scent of changelings, confirmed with quiet confidence that this was the genuine article: the same old dwarf, smelling of familiarity rather than artifice. Mallory wasted no time, tossing a heavy bag of mixed coin onto the table—five hundred gold pieces worth of silver and gold—and informing the group that receipts were expected upon their return.

The news came quickly and without ceremony: Kerwin Ulvas had been found dead that morning by his booking manager, and the Warlocks of the Archfiend had already sealed the building. Mallory pinned a series of magically-rendered portraits to the corkboard with practiced efficiency, each one so lifelike that only the faintest pencil shading betrayed the hand of an artist. He walked the team through the key players: Serelda Voth, Kerwin’s former wife, who had filed a sweeping legal complaint against Callie Rockwell seeking two hundred thousand gold pieces in damages and the submission of the carafe as evidence; and the law firm Vorak and Solm, who represented her and had apparently been strategizing around Kerwin’s own preemptive legal filing for weeks.

Mallory explained that Kerwin’s firm, Ursion and Brass, had already filed a brief arguing that voluntary and prolonged use of the carafe diminished the original seller’s liability—a legal argument, not yet precedent, but one that could help Callie’s defense. He was clear about the limits of SPI’s involvement: they would protect Callie physically and facilitate her access to legal counsel, but they would not bury evidence or coerce witnesses. He recommended the firm Perdition Mitigation, which had an office in Abermach, and suggested Callie’s family connections might already open that door.

Taelin Fosse was identified as Callie’s most valuable legal asset. As a trained legal professional who had spent years inside Kerwin’s operation and had watched the carafe’s influence erode her own mind, her testimony could transform a weak defense into a compelling story of fraud and manipulation. Mallory also flagged the bodyguards Galloc and Preen as persons of interest, noting that Galloc was likely a freelancer working through Highmark Ventures—the corporate arm of Mammon himself—and that Preen, an extraordinarily skilled thief, was believed to be in possession of the missing carafe. Bec was quietly warned not to be briefed on the Highmark angle until more was known about where his loyalties truly lay.

The briefing continued with a breakdown of the Harbor District’s three competing factions. The Blues, anchored by the Dockworkers’ Union and led by the pragmatic Sorra Kell, controlled the docks and the financial lifeblood of the region from their base at the Rusted Capstan. The Scarlets—who called themselves the Asmodials—operated out of the Ramshackle Ram, where a cold and calculating information broker named Vordas Shek listened to everything from behind the bar. The Crimsons, led by the guarded and bitter Ceth Aldras at the Ember Keep, harbored a deep hatred for the Scarlets that felt rooted in something far older and more personal than mere rivalry.

Mallory also introduced Thresh, a contract devil serving as the Harbor District’s notary, who kept meticulous records of every legal filing in the area and would answer direct questions—but only direct questions. He then outlined five investigative priorities: securing legal protection for Callie, clarifying the deal struck with Galloc, interviewing Kerwin’s surviving staff before the Warlocks got to them, informing Serelda of her ex-husband’s death, and investigating the contract draft left behind by the Noffindorfs. Vondal raised a sharp legal observation—if the carafe had compromised Kerwin’s sanity, his divorce from Serelda might be legally invalid, meaning she could stand to inherit his entire estate and might have little reason to continue her lawsuit against Callie. Mallory agreed it was worth exploring and said he would discuss the angle with Taelin while the team was in the field.

Before the briefing concluded, Mallory attempted to conceal a final sheet of paper in his folder. Ozborn noticed immediately and, with a dazzling double-bump maneuver that left even Mallory momentarily outmaneuvered, slipped the paper free and flung it behind his back to Bec. Mallory sighed and admitted Ozborn could have simply asked, to which Ozborn replied that there would be no fun in that. The paper turned out to be a crude, hand-written list featuring stick figures and frowny faces—Mallory’s charmingly informal personal notes on the investigation, complete with a tiny dagger drawn next to Galloc’s name and a little dress sketched beside Serelda’s. Bec was also handed a key to the Trell office door, sparing the team any future acrobatic entries through windows.

Before departing, Callie slipped into the women’s dormitory to check on Cassandra, who lay deeply asleep with dark circles carved beneath her eyes. Performing a quiet ritual of magical sensing, Callie discovered a powerful divine aura radiating from the sleeping woman—one that seemed, impossibly, to cast a shadow that vanished the moment she looked for it directly. The aura was unmistakably Cassandra’s own, not an external enchantment, and the group concluded she had likely spent weeks using her own magic to bypass her need for rest until the technique stopped working. They left her undisturbed, drawing the bed canopy closed to darken her corner of the room.

The team teleported back to Trell and arrived at the SPI’s local branch office, where their contact Vex greeted them with a freshly brewed cup of local herbal tea he described as an upgraded offering. Freki’s sharp nose caught the unfamiliar, slightly sooty aftertaste of ingredients native to Trell’s rocky terrain—natural, but foreign. The party briefed Vex on Kerwin’s death and Taelin’s asylum, and the moment Highmark Ventures was mentioned, Vex went completely still. He recovered smoothly, but those paying close attention sensed a flicker of genuine uncertainty beneath his composed exterior—not deception exactly, but the quiet discomfort of a man who hoped the answer to a question was no, without being entirely sure.

Vex provided two residential addresses on a scrap of paper—one for Xarlus Shale, Kerwin’s finance manager, and one for Serelda Voth—and advised the team to reach Xarlus before the Warlocks did. As they walked through the overcast, smoggy streets toward the older district where Xarlus lived, Vex filled in additional details about the factions. He revealed his own past as a Highmark debt collector, explaining with quiet confidence that the locals gave him a wide berth out of experience and fear. Meanwhile, Freki’s ravens delivered a cryptic warning: Trell lay at the center of the flux storm, a place where neither Freki nor his enemies could draw on the power of nature—the safest place from the flux, and yet profoundly dangerous for exactly that reason.

The team arrived at a hostel in a more developed part of the city, its cobblestone streets and multi-story stone buildings a marked contrast to the crumbling Harbor District. They found unit 36 on the third floor and knocked, waking a groggy and shirtless Xarlus Shale, whose large dark eyes were even dewier than usual with sleep. His apartment was startlingly humble for a man who managed the finances of a thriving commercial operation—a small bed, a cooking pot, and three books leaning against the wall were the sum of his possessions. Freki quietly helped himself to one of the three books, a volume titled The Psychology of Money, and began reading it with his lips moving while the interrogation proceeded around him.

Ozborn and Vex took the lead, ushering the rest of the party into the hallway to conduct a more focused conversation. Ozborn broke the news of Kerwin’s death plainly, and Xarlus received it with a kind of stunned, tech-bro optimism—his first instinct was to suggest simply resurrecting his boss and asking him directly who had killed him, apparently unaware that Trell required a legal permit for such magic. He spoke warmly of Kerwin and the business, describing himself as deeply invested in its success and hoping to eventually become a partner. When pressed about Highmark Ventures, Xarlus confirmed that the company’s security had been contracted through a shell company widely understood to be a Highmark proxy, though he had never personally dealt with Galloc or Preen.

Xarlus admitted that lawyers representing Serelda had visited the office multiple times during his tenure, though he had always been excluded from those meetings. He also confirmed that the only copy of the company’s financial ledger remained at the now-sealed crime scene, making it inaccessible. Ozborn warned him to stay in his apartment and away from the Warlocks, and Xarlus pushed back, questioning whether the SPI even had the authority to tell him what to do. Ozborn bluffed confidently about having a warrant; Xarlus called the bluff just as confidently. The standoff ended with Ozborn promising to look into the possibility of resurrecting Kerwin on Xarlus’s behalf, and Callie offering a quiet touch of divine healing to ease the pounding headache that had been building behind Xarlus’s eyes as the carafe’s lingering influence continued to unravel.

The sound of rapid footsteps on the stairs below cut the conversation short. Ozborn threw open the window for the group’s escape, Vondal locked the apartment door behind them, and Ozborn himself leapt silently into a shadowed nook at the very top of the stairwell, clinging to the rafters like a spider. Moments later, a young tiefling wreathed in fire strode up the stairs two at a time and pounded on the locked door, announcing himself as a representative of the Infernal Order of Asmodeus and demanding that Xarlus Shale open up immediately. The party held their breath, scattered between the window ledge and the rafters, as the Warlocks arrived to claim their own piece of the investigation.

Last we left off, our investigators gathered at SPI Headquarters for a morning briefing with the real Mallory—confirmed genuine by Freki’s ever-reliable nose—who wasted no time delivering grim news: Kerwin Ulvas had been found dead, his building already sealed by the Warlocks of the Archfiend. Mallory laid out the full picture with characteristic efficiency: a vengeful ex-wife named Serelda Voth pursuing a devastating lawsuit, a pair of dangerous bodyguards with ties to the corporate arm of Mammon himself, three feuding factions carving up the Harbor District, and a missing carafe at the center of it all. The team was handed five investigative priorities, a bag of five hundred gold pieces, and—after Ozborn’s rather theatrical interception of a concealed document—Mallory’s charmingly hand-drawn personal notes, complete with stick figures and a tiny dagger beside Galloc’s name.

Teleporting to Trell, the group touched base with their local contact Vex, who received the mention of Highmark Ventures with a stillness that spoke volumes, before setting out through smoggy streets toward the humble apartment of Xarlus Shale, Kerwin’s finance manager. They found him groggy, shirtless, and startlingly optimistic—his first instinct upon learning of his employer’s murder was to suggest a simple resurrection, apparently unaware of Trell’s permitting requirements. The conversation yielded useful threads: lawyers for Serelda had visited the office repeatedly, the financial ledger remained locked inside the sealed crime scene, and Xarlus had never personally dealt with Galloc or Preen, though he confirmed the security arrangement’s Highmark connections.

Now, as the team balanced themselves between window ledges and rafters, a young tiefling wreathed in flame came pounding up the stairs—a representative of the Infernal Order of Asmodeus, arriving to claim his own piece of the investigation. With the Warlocks at the door and Xarlus on the other side of it, our investigators find themselves caught between the law, the flames, and a mystery that grows more tangled with every floor they climb…

Old Mallory tossed coin on the table, And briefed them as fast as he was able: “Kerwin Ulvas is dead, Warlocks sealed up his stead— Now go sort this mess, if you’re able!”

Then Ozborn pulled off a slick heist, And snatched Mallory’s notes in a trice; Stick figures and all, Pinned up on the wall— A dagger by Galloc sufficed!

To Trell they arrived through the haze, Where Vex froze at Highmark’s dark name; He smoothed out his face, But they all saw the trace Of a man who knew more than he’d claim!

They woke Xarlus Shale, barely dressed, Whose apartment was humble at best; “Just resurrect him!” He said on a whim— Ozborn bluffed warrants; Xarlus wasn’t impressed!

Now footsteps came fast up the stair, A tiefling in flames filled the air; The party held tight To the rafters in fright— The Warlocks of Asmodeus were there!

When last we left our intrepid investigators, they were treated to a full Mallory briefing—which is basically a PowerPoint presentation if PowerPoint were a corkboard, magically rendered portraits, and a secret sheet of paper with stick figures on it that Ozborn absolutely had to steal through an unnecessarily dramatic double-bump maneuver. The case? A dead music mogul, a furious ex-wife swinging a two-hundred-thousand-gold lawsuit like a wrecking ball, a missing magic carafe, bodyguards with ties to the literal corporate arm of the god of greed, and three gang factions who all hate each other for reasons that are definitely not personal. Oh, and Cassandra is apparently running on fumes and divine magic in a way that is deeply concerning and that everyone agreed to deal with later, as one does.

The team then teleported to Trell, had a very normal conversation with their contact Vex—who definitely did not visibly short-circuit when Highmark Ventures was mentioned—and proceeded to wake up a shirtless finance bro named Xarlus Shale, whose apartment contained a bed, a pot, and three books, and whose first response to learning his boss was murdered was “have you considered just bringing him back to life?” Ozborn bluffed about having a warrant. Xarlus called it. Nobody won. And now a fire-wreathed tiefling is pounding on the door while the party dangles out of a third-floor window, which is, honestly, a very on-brand way to end a Tuesday.