Page 15 of Storms & Sacrifice
“If you could direct us to the location of the break-in, we can get started.” Khazak tries to gently move things along.
“Right this way.” The priest turns on his heel and leads us toward the statue, then enters a side door on the right. He takes us into a hallway, one side lined with windows and the other with doors. At the end of the hall is another door—or what’s left of one. It looks like it’s been hacked to death, chunks of wood all over the floor. I can make out shards of glass mixed with the wood, the sunlight reflecting off them onto the ceiling above.
“Here we are.” The priest comes to a stop in front of the destruction, a broken window on our right. “This is the closet we keep the ceremonial supplies in.”
“You were the one who found it this way yesterday morning, correct?” Khazak steps up to look over the damage with the priest.
“That is correct.” He nods. “It must have been around six when I came to gather my materials forthe day.”
“Thank you.” Khazak squats down to inspect some of the damage closer. “And we are sure this happened overnight? Who was the last person here?”
“That would also be me.” Bhok sighs. “We have had the odd vagrant hiding in the building overnight, so I always walk through each of the rooms once before I retire in theevening.”
“The only thing stolen was brimstone?” Khazak soundsskeptical.
“Yes, all of it.” Bhok nods. “Enough to last us the rest of the year. Now I must order more and hope it is here in time for the festival this weekend. I just cannot fathom who would do something like this.”
“I promise we will do everything we can to locate the person responsible, sir.” Khazak stands and does his best to reassure theolder orc.
“Thank you, Khazak.” At that moment, the door we walked in through opens again, another orc in robes calling out. “Sorry. I must prepare for my next sermon. You remember where my office is?”
“Yes, sir. I will let you know when we have some information for you.” Khazak nods.
“Thank you. Please give my love to your fathers and siblings.” He turns and leaves.
“Well, I think it is safe to say they did not use magic, officer.” Khazak looks over the destruction.
“I agree, sir. I will still see if I can pick up traces of anything.” Nikka closes her eyes and brings her hands together, chanting softly to herself.
“Thank you.” Khazak steps carefully over some of the larger pieces of wood and glass to get into the closet doorway. “By the look of these grooves, I would say they used an axe. No finesse at all.”
“Looks like they knew exactly what they were doing, too.” Khazak looks to me for more of an explanation. “The only broken window is right in front of the supply closet, and if they brought an axe, they probably knew the door would be locked. You wouldn’t bring an axe just to breaka window.”
“Which means our suspect is likely a parishioner,” Nikka comes to an even better conclusion than I did. “I was not able to detect any residual magic, sir.”
“As I thought.” Khazak takes another step into the closet. “Let us see if our friend left us anything moretangible.”
“What would someone steal brimstone for anyway?” I ask both of them. I’ve heard of brimstone, but I’m not sure I’ve actually seen it before. “What is itused for?”
“It produces a lot of smoke when you burn it,” Nikka responds as she takes notes on her pad. “The smell is…interesting. It is used in ceremonial pyres, or added to incense, or used to bless rooms. Outside of the church, if you know your chemistry, you can actually do some pretty interesting things with brimstone and fire.” A sudden look of realization crosses Nikka’s face. “Sir, the high priest mentioned theShatu Uzu’gorthis weekend. There are always a lot of fire dancers and street performers. It might be worth being on the lookout for anyone using an excessive amount of brimstone.”
“Good thinking, officer. Please make a note of that in your report,” Khazak tells her as he emerges from the closet, where his eyes catch something on the door frame. Smiling, he carefully plucks what looks like a torn piece of black cloth from the splintered wood. “Seeing as the priest’s robes do not come in black, I think we can assume this belonged to our assailant.”
“Here you are, sir!” Nikka steps forward, holding a small jar from her bag.
“Thank you, officer.” Khazak drops the cloth into the jar. “As we are already a day behind, please take that back to the lab immediately and attempt to scry on its owner. David, go with her. I am just going to quickly update the high priest and then will be right behind you.”
“Yessir,” we respondin unison.
The two of us exit the temple as Khazak goes to update the priest alone, which I suspect might have something to do with wanting to avoid me learning of any embarrassing stories from his youth.That’s fine. I’ll just ask his sister.It’s a quick walk back to the station, and Nikka takes us right to the forensics lab.
The room is emptier than it was this morning, most officers off working their own cases. Nikka sets up at one of the desks with scrying equipment—at least I’m pretty sure that’s what it is. At the center of the table is averydetailed map of the city. I think I can make out each individual building. Next to the map is a large mirror laying flat on the surface ofthe desk.
“How does this work, exactly?” I’ve never actually seen someone “scry” before, but I know it’s a way for some spellcasters to locate a person or thing from adistance.
“Well, if thisisfrom the thief’s clothing, I should be able to channel my magic through it and pinpoint his location on this map, assuming they are still in the city.” Nikka sets her bag down and removes the jar with the cloth scrap. “I can also try to bring up a visual image of them and their surroundings, but that can be a littletrickier.”
“So, what’s to stop someone from scrying on one of us and discovering the city’s location?” I ask, suddenly worried people back home might already know exactly where I am.
