[h1][center][color=a0410d]Mark[/color][/center][/h1]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/8ps9Nc0.png[/img][/center]

[hr]

From the very moment Mark had wandered into the town, he was very, very sure that he would hate it here. The noise made it hard for the slapdash creature to focus, and the sheer number of people made it very difficult for him to tell whether or not someone was approaching with the intent to attack. Such concerns were always in the back of his thoughts since he had been with his creators, and while he had learned that such behavior would not be commonplace in the city, he still had yet to convince himself of this. Another thing he hated was having to talk to people. He preferred to get to the "important" part of most interactions. With his creator, that was getting Mark fixed up. With the common rabble, it was to flash his weapon and warn them that they were trespassing on private property. With brigands, the important part was culling their numbers and sending one off to advise the others not to endanger the Stormhammer family again. He would have to ask somebody at some point a few questions, if he wanted to achieve the goal that had been set before him, and given how dull his creators were... The Warforged imitated the sound of sighing, not having the lungs to do so. This was going to be a very troublesome mission, this one. A warm surge caused his eyes to glow gently as he remembered the goal that had been set before him.


[center][i][b]"Yer gonna find my daughter, Marina. Yer gonna bring 'er to me. And yer gonna make sure nothin' like this ever happens again."[/b][/i][/center]

Of course, however, being a greenhorn to the act of information gathering - well, gathering information from those who aren't bleeding profusely or suffering from broken bones - Mark had no real place to start. What good is it to go to a bar and exchange a few drinks when you have no need for the liquid? Why go to an inn when you require no sleep? [color=a0410d]"How u'erly pointless,"[/color] Mark complained to himself. His thick, Dwarvish accent was a reminder of his creator's rather macabre decision to base Mark's voice off of his father's. Mark's eyes scanned the town, as he tried to figure out where a good congregation of people would be. The crowd gathering in the middle of the town had caught his attention, but even a fool would be able to see that they were enthralled by something. Questions would have to wait. Shoving past a group of people, he nudged his way to the front, very curious to see what the matter was. To see what had attracted the attention of those who had decided to gather around. Silently, he watched as the processions occurred, up until the moment that the lever was pulled and the 'Whiteheath Witch' was executed. Specifically, when the reveal was made that this person was not who they appeared to be. With a muffled whir, the Warforged placed a hand on his chin, the gesture that his creator had often performed when something curious or unfavorable was placed before him. Something about this business didn't sit right with him. Had they mistakenly executed someone who was supposed to be this Whiteheath Witch? A dull stream of thoughts suddenly popped up into Mark's head: Could Marina Stormhammer have been here? Could she have been executed prior, under a similar guise of magic? Was Marina being held captive by the Whiteheath Witch?

A course grunt escaped from Mark's voice synthesizer. What a bothersome chore this assignment was turning out to be.

Once things had calmed down a little, he was going to have to ask some questions. He was unsure as to how well immediately consulting those responsible for the execution would go as well. For now, he would simply have to sit back and wait, perhaps coming up with a more water-tight plan that wasn't "ask random people that he sees." As if on cue, he noticed the group approaching the body. If he could, a small smirk would have escaped from the mouth of the Warforged. Several heads worked better than one, after all. He approached the bunch in front of the body and placed hand to chin again, carefully looking over the body. He needed to figure out if there were any more secrets this woman was hiding...

[hider=Actions/Rolls]

Mark approaches the body and attempts to examine it via a Medicine check, hoping to specifically gather any sort of information on wounds that may have been inflicted prior to the execution proper.

1d20+Wisdom Modifier(1)

[url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/11855]Result:9[/url]

[/hider]