[center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][table][row][/row][row][cell]
[h2][color=6ecff6][i][b]Hugh Caphazath[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=6ecff6]Half-Elf, Monk (Way of Shadow), Level 3[/color][/b][/i]
[color=6ecff6][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 24/24	[color=6ecff6][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 17	[color=6ecff6][i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=6ecff6][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Darenby, The Infamous Pear
[color=6ecff6][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=6ecff6][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=6ecff6][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[/cell][cell]
[right][img]https://i.imgur.com/4a0uP44.png[/img][/right]
[/cell][/row][/table][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center]

Hugh nodded and smiled mildly at the Sheriff’s response to Marita’s inquiries, glad to have her cover such an angle. Personally, he might have overlooked those particular possibilities otherwise. After all, his preferred targets for bounty hunting rarely required anything close to such an investigation. He was clearly going to have to brush the cobwebs off a couple old and unused lines of thought if he was to keep ahead of the game here.

Regardless, the fact that they would actually have a list of names and commonalities to work with as a result was most certainly internally applauded. That said, the Sheriff indeed confirmed his suspicions that the Township proper was not the sole victim of these disappearances; unfortunately, the Sheriff rather noticeably also had no further commentary to provide regarding the lack of contact with outlying farmlands… or their potential relevance to the issue at hand.

It was worrying and frustrating in equal measure, especially since that lack of an answer potentially massively broadened their investigation area.

He idly noted the Township Constable’s name, one Mr. Cavendish, and committed it to memory. The Sheriff didn’t seem overly concerned regarding the Constable’s inclusion one way or another, so Hugh found himself at something of an impasse on how to proceed. Clearly, this venture was meant to be discreet, and more individuals being involved could only lead to their potential culprit being tipped off early… On the other hand, making clear their intentions and client from the start with one of the highest authorities in the city could very well serve to smooth over any feathers they may ruffle in the course of their investigations.

Meanwhile, the timeframe for completion seemed rather more intimidatingly narrow than Hugh was expecting for an investigation of such seemingly broad scale. Given carte blanche to act as he pleased, he would have much preferred a month, so that affairs could be conducted carefully and subtly.

Infiltrating a new location and sussing out all the most viable and reliable sources of information in a manner that didn’t draw unnecessary attention was most certainly not the work of a single measly week. Honestly, he didn’t know what the Sheriff was thinking, expecting results in the positive with that kind of lacking room to breathe. Then again…

Hugh panned his gaze over the table’s occupants.

Then again, his estimations were based on his personal experience operating solo. With this many eyes and ears, infiltration would surely be far more efficient, assuming these people could manage to resist overtly blowing their cover.

In other news, the word that Goblins were indeed present in these lands came as something of a relief. Certainly, they had been told to tell those who asked that they were out and about to slay Goblins, but till now, he’d yet to learn just how valid an excuse that was. That the greenskins were most liable to raid now with the coming cold for supplies also gave him some idea that perhaps the lost contact with farming villages was related. Unfortunately, he could hardly confirm or deny at this stage.

Hugh restrained a grimace and schooled his expression into a wry upturning of the lips, as his negotiations were wildly undercut by the rest of the assembled adventurers’ far more frugal requests… barring Kathryn’s admirably practical desire for fresh armor and weaponry. Honestly, he was genuinely shocked at the sheer… lack of vision the others had displayed.

Certainly, he had aimed high, but that was only natural in negotiations. Pitch something potentially unreasonable and then allow yourself to be talked down to what you actually want. Unfortunately, his lack of exact knowledge regarding what was available to the likes of Sheriff Gregory -and his new “companions’” own unexpectedly underwhelming requests- only managed to make his own look greedy by comparison.

In that case, now that he had a better understanding of where the limits lay, he could tailor his request to the client. Unfortunately, Sheriff Gregory’s hasty departure meant his own properly revised request would have to wait for judgement on the morrow… as would the Druid, Naivara’s, and perhaps Marita’s as well, should she come to her senses.

Honestly, some part of him was driven to feel a smidgeon of pity for the clearly out of touch young elf. If the Sheriff’s answer to him was any clue, then there would most certainly be no items that “belong to the forest” in these parts. Perhaps, if time permitted, he would see about advising her on the subject of requests. It was almost painful to watch such blatant lack of compensation occur before his eyes, but at the end of the day, he acknowledged that he could hardly do anything for her if she had no true desire within her. Also, quite frankly, they might all be best served if someone considered getting her proper measure as a socializer.

After all, upon reflection, he realised that he might actually have to worry more about Naivara than Kosara when it came to subtley. It was genuinely disturbing to consider, but he could hardly deny that Naivara’s flowery speech was also painfully direct and devoid of nuance or deception to those that could parse it. Kosara, at least, seemed as though she possessed the [i]capacity[/i] for subterfuge… if not the willingness to use it.

As the noise from the kitchen began to reach a crescendo, Hugh watched the Sheriff’s retreating back, as the venerable man held a rather… heated and hushed discussion with the bartender. It was quite clear that Ser Gregory was displeased with his co-conspirator, but the distance and noise prevented anything of note from being heard. Considering that this contract was intended to be performed quietly, he could only imagine that the bartender’s gregarious attitude and lack of operational security had earned the elder man’s ire.

Hugh huffed out a long frustrated exhale, before schooling his expression back into placidity, as May and Guido approached once more, toting a somewhat less precarious amount of food than before, which they doled out with a notable clatter.

Accepting his pork pie and potatoes with a nod and small smile, Hugh took a sip of the warm sweet tea and hummed thoughtfully. As expected, it wasn’t quite as good as the Yawning Dog’s brews, but it was rich and somewhat thick without being cloying. Certainly, it was enough to wash out the rest of the shitty cider’s aftertaste and wet his appetite for the meal proper, but it was also almost [i]too[/i] sweet, like the brewer had dumped a handful of sugar into it.

Shaking his head, Hugh set his complaints aside and did his best to ignore the reignitement of conversation by Kosara, reluctantly listening with half an ear, as he dug out his set of eating utensils from his personal mess kit. Likes? He liked being able to eat his meals in peace and quiet without worrying about his food going cold from being distracted by meaningless small talk. About himself? He’d said all he was willing to at this juncture, and he really had no interest in the personal affairs of his temporary compatriots. They were here to do a job, not make friends.

Digging into the meat pie, Hugh nodded in appreciation at the, as advertised, incredibly buttery crust, stabbing a couple potato slices with his fork and replacing his prior mouthful. While one ear was on the table, he still found his gaze drifting back towards the bar, where the Sheriff’s seeming chastisement of the innkeeper was coming to a close. Hugh’s brow furrowed at the look of naked concern upon the client’s face, as Sheriff Gregory shot the table a final glance before leaving.

Shaking his head, Hugh was rather prepared to put that exchange behind him, when he heard the halfling squeak out rather astonishingly loudly, [color=004b80]“He only sent [i]three[/i] letters! What does that even mean?”[/color]

[color=6ecff6][i]Ah.[/i][/color]

A deep pit dropped down into Hugh’s stomach, as his appetite made its best attempt to flee him.

That… answered several questions, and most certainly not in the way he wished they might be. Several inconsistencies that had stumped him now were cleared up most unpleasantly.

The Sheriff’s confusion at their numbers was because there were only meant to be three of them.

The letters presenting the contract as a covert operation hadn’t been in error. Had there been merely three of them, such a mission would be far more viable.

The original three letters most likely weren’t delivered in error. Or, at least, two of them must have been, while the third was intercepted. Additionally, having each letter go unaddressed also made some sense if the Sheriff’s attempts at operational security were truly so deep.

It was more than clear that this entire mission was horrifically compromised from the get-go.

Glancing over the table’s occupants, he seriously considered which letters were most likely legitimate. In terms of reliability, he could only assume Marita and Kathryn’s numbered among them… potentially Victoria’s as well, but he was sceptical to accept the idea of the Sheriff willingly reaching out to a necromancer, especially given the man’s clear misgivings regarding her.

Hugh considered his own bloodstained letter. Given the circumstances, he honestly couldn’t say for sure whether his was one of the originals, but he was almost certain Kosara’s wasn’t, considering her general demeanor. No one in their right mind would directly invite someone like her to participate in this sort of mission. Oddly enough, another potential candidate for a legitimate letter was Naivara… though unlikely. After all, there was her lack of social skills, generally conspicuous appearance, and further the way she hinted at genuine surprise at being contacted, like she’d never even seen a letter before. All these things told him that she wasn’t carrying an original. On the other hand, the fact that the letter was implied to be specifically mailed to her…

Why would the culprit specifically…? Actually, now that he considered who he’d gotten it from, odds were high that the fake letters amongst them were most likely Naivara and Kosara’s, with the last being either his own or Victoria’s.

Then again, that all depended on the likes of the three adventurers, who had all made their leave before, not also potentially possessing one of the originals, which meant there was a non-zero chance that every last letter at this table was fake... Just…  [i]how many[/i] fakes were out there in the wind? How great was the incoming chaos?

Hugh swallowed apprehensively, bringing his thoughts back to the present and considering his options.

There was no way to tell for sure if one of the party’s number was a traitor, not yet, but the odds were mildly high that one was. However, if he wanted to catch them, the best way to do so would be to redirect the party’s suspicions outward, ensuring that any potential traitor felt far more secure in their position… and make them far more likely to slip up.

To that end, despite the convenience of it, he would refrain from suggesting the Cleric utilize her truth magic at this time. After all, while the chances were low that she was involved, he didn’t yet know her well enough to say for certain. He’d have to get closer to her, to several of them, confirm and deny his suspicions. The priority was obviously Marita. With her magic in play and the caster trustworthy, they could almost trivialize the reveal of any traitors.

That said, if she chose to suggest the usage of such magic at this juncture, he wouldn’t oppose her. After all, though he was a private individual, he had nothing incriminating to hide that was relevant to the situation at hand. In fact, most telling would be any that either opposed the usage of said magic… or chose to resist it, instead of allowing the spell to run its course. In such a case, he was inclined to actively support her; after all, it could only make him look more trustworthy in the long run.

Shoveling more of his potatoes into his mouth and setting in again on the pork pie, Hugh considered his “compatriots”, the people he would have to independently investigate to ensure counterintelligence was not leveled against everyone involved.

If anyone was most suspicious at this moment, he would have to say it was Kosara and Victoria. The former he could admit was mostly his personal distaste talking, but her attitude was so over-the-top that it might be reasonable to assume it was all an act, a performance she put on for outsiders in order to worm her way into their good graces… like she already had for the majority present. And it was also to be noted that she seemed to have a particular camaraderie with the Bard.

Victoria, on the other hand, as much as part of him wanted to give her the benefit of a doubt, was a Bard. Enchantment magic was generally their forte, and he could see it being reasonable that her utilization of such was a perfect way to both manipulate the local law enforcement into tolerating her necromancy and setting her free… and also potentially into letting her get close enough to the Sheriff to manipulate him into writing more letters than intended. Granted, she had supposedly arrived in town yesterday morning, but it was easy to see how she might have left town to spread fake letters far and wide before her return.

But Hugh restrained his thoughts, his paranoia all but frothing at the metaphorical mouth. At the end of the day, this was all speculation at present. As much as his pride pushed for him to confirm his own bias, he knew well enough that everyone involved was innocent until proven guilty. Naturally, it was up to him to do the proving.

Of course, that was when Marita stood and started chanting.

Hugh was out his chair before he could really think about it, pure reflex finding a bladed dart in his hand and ready to hurl straight into the enemy's ey- The abrupt impact of the back of his chair slamming into the floorboards and the vague comprehension of the chant’s meaning stayed his hand long enough for brilliant magic to ripple over the area.

Explosive rage at the unexpected recklessness of the act stole his breath away and nearly drove him to reject the magic out of pure spite, but his comprehension of the rationale -if flawed- behind it managed to waver his concentration. He felt it take hold, and… Hugh honestly couldn’t remember that last time he was so angry. Suddenly, he was well aware of what they meant by “seeing red”. Was this what Barbarians dealt with on a day-to-day basis?

[color=6ecff6]“Are you [i]fucking mad[/i]?!”[/color] the words practically strangled themselves in his throat, such was his utter [i]fury[/i]. Abruptly, he inhaled long and hard and went disturbingly still, stowing his dart away all too calmly, as his expression twisted into one of pure disdain. [color=6ecff6]“[i]No[/i]. [i]Fuck[/i] you. You don’t get to act so recklessly in this sort of situation and expect to be rewarded, not from me. You say you know who your spell works on? Well then, you should be well aware it’s working on [i]me[/i].”[/color]

Leaning down, he stood his chair back up roughly, before turning a glare of naked hatred at the Cleric. [color=6ecff6]“It would be one thing if you’d [i]asked[/i], hell, if you’d given any manner of warning at all. In fact, I’d even have supported you then, and it would have been all too telling to see who was opposed to you casting the spell. But you [i]didn’t[/i] ask… so you damn well better not expect any answers from me.”[/color] Turning his attention to the rest of the table, he continued. [color=6ecff6]“I recommend the same to all of you. Tell her [i]nothing[/i]. If she wants to foster trust, this is the [i]last[/i] way to do it, casting surprise spells on her own supposed allies, especially since we can’t say [i]she’s[/i] trustworthy either. Are we really supposed to take [i]her[/i] word for it, when she’s the one in control of the spell?”[/color] Sending a strangely [i]pitying[/i] look down his nose at Marita, he snorted, [color=6ecff6]“Honestly, I was expecting [i]better[/i] from a woman of the faith. Clearly, I misjudged you. How utterly [i]disappointing[/i].”[/color]

He turned away from Marita dismissively, adding her to the slowly growing list of individuals he’d rather keep out of his direct line of sight… and never have behind him. Biting his tongue to prevent further verbal bile from spilling forth at present, his eyes alighted on the far end of the table, as he took a deep, steadying breath and restored some measure of his composure.

Jaw set, Hugh strode around to the opposite end of the table and swept up the opened letters, returning to his seat a moment later. Sliding his food to the side into the unoccupied eating space previously owned by Mona, Hugh began unfolding each letter in turn, squinting at them intently under the candlelight of the tavern. His ancestral darkvision served him well, taking the insufficient lighting and blowing up the surfaces of his objects of study as though they were illuminated by stark daylight... Not that it managed to do all that much good.

After several long moments of intense study, taking occasional bites of his pork pie and sips from tea and mostly ignoring the going-ons of the table in the meantime beyond the highlights, Hugh sighed in resignation and addressed the table at large, his voice still somewhat shaky with repressed fury.

[color=6ecff6]“[i]So[/i], there were only meant to be [i]three[/i] letters... [i]Suddenly[/i], my misgivings about this entire venture bear fruit beyond even my expectations.”[/color] Folding each letter back up, he frowned. [color=6ecff6]“From what I can tell, each letter is handwritten, and all are apparently penned by the same hand. I couldn’t say anything particular about the ink, since the smell of food in here is overpowering any observations I might make. The parchment and wax seals also appear to be of the same make, and the seals themselves all appear to be equally legitimate. Then again,”[/color] he shrugged in an unconcerned manner, [color=6ecff6]“calligraphy isn’t exactly my specialty. Feel free to take my observations with a grain of salt and make your own.”[/color] That said, he slid the pile of letters towards the table’s center.

Taking another bite of his waning supply of potatoes, Hugh downed another swig of tea, as he watched the table’s occupants digest his words. Running his tongue across the front of his upper teeth, he scowled openly now. [color=6ecff6]“I [i]don’t[/i] like this. I don’t like this one bit. Our mission is already compromised. Way I see it, there’s no good reason for anyone to have interfered in the Sheriff’s affairs if they weren’t overmuch concerned with him poking around the matter of the disappearances.”[/color] He stabbed a finger down at the table and eyed the other adventurers seriously, studiously avoiding focusing overmuch on the Cleric. [color=6ecff6]“This is a mission meant for three, intended to be conducted with care and subtlety. Personally, I can think of few better ways to stir up chaos and force an abandonment of discrete tactics than to put six adventurers on the same case.”[/color]

Leaning back in his chair, he ran one hand through his shaggy brown hair in a clearly stressed manner, before pinching the bridge of his nose. [color=6ecff6]“Quite frankly, all that tells me for sure is that it is more important than ever that we do exactly what they clearly don’t want us to… and keep a low profile going forward… if at all possible. Further, were we not expected to bring results in a week’s time, I would [i]far[/i] prefer that we first [i]thoroughly[/i] investigate the breach of security in the local mailing system. It’s a blatantly obvious lead. If nothing else, it might serve us well to be upfront with the Sheriff on the morrow in this matter and inquire of him about the functions of the local mail… and about who runs it.”[/color]

Honestly, there were two main ways to take the existence of extra letters, ways he chose to voice aloud, as he cleared his throat from another sip of rich, warm, calming tea. As the warm beverage slipped down his throat, he found his naked rage slowly dying down to a simmering grudge. [color=6ecff6]“Personally, I see only two legitimate reasons for there to be extra letters. Either there is a criminal of some skill out and about, who can mimic handwriting to such an excellent degree, or, worse…”[/color] His expression turned grim. [color=6ecff6]“Taking what we know of this quest into account, I would say it is not unfair to posit that our client may also be a victim, potentially manipulated into making more letters than intended. The latter is honestly the worst case scenario, but in light of what we know, it has become viable.”[/color]

Rapping his fingers against the tabletop in a steady rhythm, Hugh considered things with a somewhat clearer head. Refusing to answer… sabotaging the Cleric’s frankly most useful tool in this situation… Objectively, he should be inclined to set his pride aside and answer her inquiries. Objectively, it would do the most the fastest to clear him of suspicion. Objectively, it could do well to mend any bridges he might currently be burning. Objectively...

Objectivity, just this once, could go fuck itself with a rusty fork.

His mind was sacred. His will and his freedom to act as he pleased were [i]priceless[/i]. And [i]anyone[/i] who infringed upon that to any degree, no matter how minor, without his permission was without question or exception his enemy.

Hugh shot Marita a last seething glare, before closing his eyes and returning to silently sipping his tea.

(/._./)

TLDR: Marita manages to specifically push what might just be Hugh’s biggest button. I was really NOT expecting to have this part of his character come to the forefront any time soon, but she managed to neatly -if unintentionally- sidestep even the most basic courtesy that would have kept it for another day. XD