Character Sheet
The Mysterious Orphan

Name: Lotte, daughter of Henrik and Anelie
Sexuality: Pansexual
Age: 18
Species: Lamia, Central Lands Human Culture
Level: 3
Class: Hunter
Weapons: Bow, Knife

XP: 2/18

Description: A tall lamia, with short blond hair, and blue eyes, dressed in a protective vest and a noble's hunting shirt. They are muscular, well-formed and handsome, and have slightly yellowish eyes and a forked tongue. Their snake-half is in a forest pattern that helps for blending in, except for the occasional splash of Tyrian purple.

Traits:

Just Devotions (Racial--Human, Central, Cultural)(Level 0): Humans in some parts of the world worship the Gods, vast and sometimes unknowable beings that do grant blessings to those that believe in them, magical blessings. But even the lowliest of the pious knows how to pray to them, how to do the right supplications, how to act in the proper ways. This knowledge can sometimes be put to good use, though the Gods rarely turn their eyes to every little prayer.

Wholesome Farm Looks (Human, Central, Physical, Level 1): Though most of the people of the Central lands, that mass of Kingdoms, Princedoms, Dukedoms, Duchess States, and more, are of course quite poor, they are a hardy, hard-working people, and sometimes this life less beats a person down and more hones them. They have reasonably good looks, and even more importantly, look trustworthy, clean-cut, and otherwise like the kind of person who'd never lied a day in their life or slacked off a single hour, either. This remains even after becoming a lamia, though it is... tempered, obviously.

Snake Eyes (Level 1, Physical, Lamia): You can see in the dark pretty well. It isn't perfect, but the night is not nearly so dark and full of dangers as you expected it would be, for whatever reason.


Forest Wanderer (0, Pre-Class): The forest is a fascinating place for a child, as long as they don't go too far. As one gets used to it, one learns more about its ins and outs, and while some of it only applies to the forest that such a child lived in at first, much of it is quite helpful later.

Forest Eyes (Level 1. Class): As one could have eyes that pick out every tiny detail of the tundra, so can one be used to seeing in the dark forest tracks, possibilities, old growth, traps, and anything else, especially when one knows how to use your ears and nose to aid it. It is remarkable how much you can see, when you see what is actually there.

Hunter's Mettle (Level 1, Class): To hunt, one needs a bow, an arrow, and perhaps a knife for self-defense. Having some skill at them is inevitable, having solid skill at them is admirable, and quite useful.

Steady Arm (Level 2, Class): You have a strong, consistent aim. You're not a superlative archer, at least by the standards of adventurers, but you don't have off moments, and you don't waver from being able to hit your target, even if you're not doing the fancier tricks.

Leave Few Traces (Level 2, Class): The experience of being on one side of the hunt makes you wonder how you'd hide your tracks if you were being hunted, or tracked by hostile enemies, as sometimes does happen in adventures. You've begun to practice how not to be followed in the woods, and perhaps elsewhere.


Mending Knowledge, Basic (Level 0, Pre-Class, Healing Priest): You know how to apply poultrices, and you know the basic ingredients of a number of potions that cure headaches, deal with common pains, put someone into a gentle sleep, and other minor things. You can also bandage someone properly. You are not very good at this, merely adequate... but that's more than what most people are.


Whitlin' Ways (Level 1, Common): A man or woman who knows how to whittle will never want for whistles, or spoons, or any number of goods. It's a useful, solid sort of skill, and one that could be made into a trade. It also makes a pretty decent way to pass the time, and the person who whittles never lacks for a knife in sticky situations.

Penny Pincher (Level 1, General): You know the value of a Pfin, and how to keep from wasting all of your money, even if you're far from a merchant. Money is something you're familiar with.

Steel Nerves (General, Level 3): You've seen enough strange places and done enough fantastic things that you are less likely to panic in terrible situations, and more likely to think things through, however difficult. This doesn't mean you can't panic at all, but you have a grip on those nerves. In battle and danger only, this unfortunately doesn't help at all with social anxiety.


Divine Sense (Level 0, Divine): You can sense when someone is a Demigod, and there's at least the potential ability--though you have not figured it out yet--to try to track people through their divine 'scent.' A person's 'scent' gets stronger as they get more magically and divinely powerful... but on the other hand, you now have a 'scent' of your own, that will allow other demigods to know you for what you are, increasingly as you grow more powerful yourself.

Captivating Eyes (Level 2, Divine): You can sometimes 'catch' people with your eyes. If you're concentrating, they'll find it slightly more difficult to look away, though any sense of threat or danger breaks it immediately, and they'll hear your words clearly, actually listening… or at least hearing them. There's no requirement to listen to them, nor does it seem as if anyone's mind is being altered in any way, but it's an interesting, if bizarre, power, and certainly is a new take on 'lost in their eyes.'

Slithering Shadows (Level 3, Divine): You can blend into the shadows better than you should be able to. At night, and in darker areas, you can seem to shift away from sight. It doesn't work well in a wide-open space, but that little bit of extra secrecy can be very useful as a hunter, and as someone who might need to sneak through various areas.
 
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[X] Oscar is clearly private and closed in, but perhaps Lotte could lure him out with talk of religion, and the task at hand.

Let's see why this dude is feeling so agitated. It can't be adventuring and battle since he's done that a great deal before. Maybe this is the first he's really been around the unwashed masses and the vulgarity of people who didn't grow up raised by priests/his family's tutors? Maybe he's just generally a high-strung guy who feels deeply the need to prove himself and cleanse himself of some unwanted aspect of his life? Maybe a Troubadour killed his dog when he was a boy and he's had a deep and abiding hatred of them ever since? Who knows? Let's find out!
 
[X] Clemencia is winning at cards, again and again. Watch for a while, and perhaps once she's done, Lotte could talk to her a little. She's never met a Sepult, after all!
 
[X] Clemencia is winning at cards, again and again. Watch for a while, and perhaps once she's done, Lotte could talk to her a little. She's never met a Sepult, after all!
 
[X] Go over to Guilliam, who is carousing, dancing, and singing. Perhaps join in. He's strange, and the talk of him being a heretic is unnerving, but he seems fun enough.

Let's be friends with the heretic! So Lotte can become more open minded and curious along the road: knowing when to question the gods is important.
 
[X] Go over to Guilliam, who is carousing, dancing, and singing. Perhaps join in. He's strange, and the talk of him being a heretic is unnerving, but he seems fun enough.

A Bard? Seriously, a Bard? Might as well pick him now, Bards are only good for social scenes. :p
 
[X] Clemencia is winning at cards, again and again. Watch for a while, and perhaps once she's done, Lotte could talk to her a little. She's never met a Sepult, after all!
-[X] Learn her tricks!
 
[X] Go over to Guilliam, who is carousing, dancing, and singing. Perhaps join in. He's strange, and the talk of him being a heretic is unnerving, but he seems fun enough.

A Bard? Seriously, a Bard? Might as well pick him now, Bards are only good for social scenes. :p

I mean, like half of first quest was social scenes, so having a party face is clearly useful.
 
Troubadours are more explicitly magic than some depictions of bards?

Less martial than the Orime, but their focus is a bit less on party buffing, and more on things like animating weapons through song, or stunning enemies, or sometimes evoking elements. Course, a level two or three Troubador isn't loaded with spells and songs, but...
 
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Oh wait, he is level 3?
Do we know levels of other party members?
Think that was an example. Also, me being hard on bards is mostly a joke. They get a bad rep, really. You don't really value your bard 'till you have one. Well, then you stop valuing him again when he sleeps with the king's wife and the whole party has to run away.
 
[X] Oscar is clearly private and closed in, but perhaps Lotte could lure him out with talk of religion, and the task at hand.

This guy seems to be more on Lotte's level with the focus on piety and the the job. She was able to talk Lisbeth into opening up so why not the knight?
 
Lotte's mother had once said that perhaps it was for the best, for he was a protector of the priests and the peasants, and while he had no grudge against nobility, neither had he seemed to think that they were any more important than the peasants. Such an attitude might have soured… considering he'd had a dedicated army at his back. It wasn't something she liked to think about.

How much money on him getting offed by one of his noble allies who had the same thought? No takers? Strange.

"Oh! Oh. I'm sorry, I merely looked at your hair and assumed." She looked Lotte up and down, and her face got even more red. "We should go to the inn. It is quite nice, and my father is paying for your stay tonight. It's an act of piety for our greatest hero."

Oh my.

[X] Clemencia is winning at cards, again and again. Watch for a while, and perhaps once she's done, Lotte could talk to her a little. She's never met a Sepult, after all!
 
2:3
2:3

"Good," Lotte said. "I will go to talk to the Sepult."

"Very good," Oscar said, eyes distant as if seeing something that wasn't there at all.

Lotte, however, didn't want to distract her, which meant that she had to watch the game until there was a chance to say hello. That meant that Lotte leaned against a wall and watched a game she didn't understand. It seemed to use a local deck, in that there were four suits: Shields, Flowers, Bells, Acorns. The game seemed to have two teams, though they switched around often enough that all three complained of the money they lost to Clemencia. They seemed to lay down cards by suit, and there were phases of betting, and then laying down of cards, again and again, until at some point, for reasons she didn't understand, one of them took the 'trick' and then played through again.

It made her head hurt, just to watch it. But she still watched, all the way until one of the players stood up and stormed away, yelling, "I've had enough of this!"

"Oh, it seems as if we're down a person," Clemencia said, with a frown. "Ah, the human there should do."

"I can't afford to lose anything else," a big, bearded man said.

"Then we shall play for fun, if that is what you wish," Clemencia said. "I have won more than enough." The Sepult smiled, though it was a sharp smile and certainly didn't reach her eyes. "So, what about it, archer? Would you like to play?"

"I don't know how," Lotte admitted.

"I can teach you, fool of a Manling," Clemenica said. Despite her words, she didn't sound particularly angry or dismissive of her. Lotte nodded, but only since it was for fun, rather than for coin. She couldn't afford to gamble, not if she wanted to have coins to spare. She'd been saving quite a lot by camping outside most nights, but sooner or later she'd have to either make money at a job or she'd run out of coins.

Yes, this mission would likely pay decently, but only if she succeeded, and she didn't want to bet on that. Lotte also knew that if it came down to it, and she was desperate and heartbroken and wanted to return home, she'd need the coin to do so.

Lotte didn't want to plan for failure, but then again she was getting into a card game with three experienced card-sharps. Perhaps it was a sort of practice the Gods wanted her to have.

Lotte had thought she would be terrible. She was wrong. Terrible was a rather understated description. By the end of the hour she almost knew the rules, but she'd also lost time and time again. There was the King, Overlord, Underlord (a rather sketchy looking Sepult in each of the pictures) and then numbers from seven to two. But the numbers had different 'effects' depending on when they were played, with seven, The Greatest Enemy (which depicted a gilded mirror, with the suit, such as a shield, around the edge), beating all if it came first, but none if it came anytime after that. She also didn't know how to read others movements, and part of the game was holding back certain cards for the right time. Suited to the starting card beat unsuited, and there were yet other rules.

But there was one rule she knew she'd remember: Clemencia almost always won. Even when she lost, it was just a single trick before winning the next three. Against anyone, in any situation, Clemencia won. It gave Lotte a chance to observe the other woman a lot, since there was less stress on her part when she knew she was going to lose.

Lotte never would have said that a beard could be feminine, but Clemencia's was braided carefully and colorfully, and it looked like it'd be impossibly smooth to the touch. There was also the smell coming off of her.Nobles, both men and women, wore perfumes, that much Lotte had heard. But the floral scent, strong and yet not overpowering, still made her think of that beard as a woman's beard. Clemencia herself was fierce, strong, and seemed to hold the world in contempt.

Perhaps she just didn't like humans?

She treated Lotte well enough, or rather she hadn't been cruel, which was more than could be said for the other two. When they finally stalked off, frustrated as could be, Clemencia turned and smiled. It was quite a smile, and she said, "Not bad for a Manling."

"I lost quite a bit," Lotte admitted.

"No, the fact that you kept on playing. You were terrible, but you kept it up. It's interesting. You're interesting, Manl… Lotte. So, why did you come over here?"

"I've never met a Sepult before," Lotte admitted. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Ah, so what did you want to know? Question about beards? Or what about weapons? Or--"

"Speakers. Religion," Lotte said, firmly. "I wanted to know what being a Speaker meant."

"As a member of an adventuring party? Or as a religion?"

"Both." Lotte nodded, looking around at the crowded, noisy, stinking room. "Though, I admit this isn't a very quiet place to talk about theology."

"Is theology supposed to be quiet?" Clemencia asked.

Lotte blushed, because of course she was right. The Gods weren't for silent groves and airless rooms. They were for and of the world. "So, what are your beliefs?"

"Beliefs? It's a reality, in a way. Our ancestors, stretching back from before the Empire ended, are just at our reach. We venerate them, we honor their ghosts, their spirits, and their memories. In exchange, they bless us." She leaned in. "One of my ancestors was a card sharp, so I'm borrowing her skills." She said it quietly, and Lotte thought that was almost a little bit like the cheating she was accused of.

"Ah. What else can you do?"

"I can give myself the skills of a warrior, but the ghosts can also hold others, push them away, keep them at a distance. And with the vigor of the ghosts, of our ancestors, I can endure much. We are a robbed people. We have lost much, but if we let go of our ways, then all else is lost. It is my job to keep to the ways. It is not always easy."

Lotte nodded.

"The ways don't involve cards. But you learn so much about how we once lived, how we once thought. It's not so easy as it looks at first. I'm young still, and there's more time to figure out who I want to be." Clemencia laughed, soft and almost scorning. "I'm not doomed to quick death like you, human. I could live centuries."

Lotte nodded. "I've heard that. But what matters is finding your path, isn't it?"

"You're young, aren't you?" Clemencia asked.

"Yes. How old are you?"

"Thirty-five," Clemecia said. Lotte barely managed not to gape at that, the idea that someone could be almost twice her age and still consider herself young. Perhaps the Sepult had a point, though she'd heard many stories of their cruelty and arrogance, of the way they had treated all humans besides the few they chose as equals like they were so many flies buzzing around a carcass. Of course, those were all stories, and she thought about what people she'd known had said about Beastfolk.

This of course made her think of Lisbeth, and the softness of her lips, the scent of her skin, the warmth of her body against Lotte, even for those few moments.

"Coin for your thoughts, Manling? You're the least useless of them so far, if you're trying to get to know me," Clemencia said. "How many parties have you been part of?"

"None before this. But I know that getting along is important."

"Can be, can be," Clemencia groused. "I use magic, but I get up close, control things. That Troubadour, stupid and useless as he is, can stay back and work with you, like a magical archer. That leaves Oscar to stick with me."

Lotte blinked. It was true that that made sense, but it seemed as if it'd help if Lotte knew more about what each of them could really do. But there was no way to go around and ask everyone, not without introducing on their days. "Do you still want to hear my thoughts, ma'am?"

"Ma'am? And yes."

"The people of my village say a lot of cruel things about Sepult, but they also said cruel things about Beastfolk, and yet the only one I've ever met was a good person," Lotte said.

"There's something to be said about broad judgements, manling," Clemencia. "Humans are so petty-minded."

Something about that sentence wasn't quite right, but Lotte couldn't put her finger on it, so she nodded. "How long have you spent mostly among humans?" Lotte asked.

"I left my clanhold almost a year ago, and have been adventuring since," Clemencia said. "I'll probably return by the time I'm fifty or sixty, to learn more that cannot be learned merely by experience."

Lotte's eyes were wide. "How long do Sepult tend to live?"

"If violence or disease doesn't take me, I can expect to reach at least two-hundred and fifty, and might well reach three-hundred." Clemencia nodded to herself, as if satisfied by that fact.

Lotte, meanwhile, was bowled over. Eighteen years seemed to have lasted forever for Lotte, so imagining it stretching on that much longer… but she supposed it was about what one was used to. "What else have you noticed about people?"

"Well, you all look so similar. Look at that man over there. It's a man, right?" She was pointing to a tall, strapping blond lad with the start of fuzz on his face. He was red-faced and clearly couldn't hold his beer.

"Yes."

"You basically look exactly like him. Way too tall, blonde, strong. Sure, if I squint and look at the bow I can tell you apart, but it's sometimes a little frustrating."

"I… suppose so," Lotte said, unable to put into words the odd feeling that she didn't look so different from that man, or anyone else. A part of her didn't want to stand out, she decided. Lotte nodded again. "Also, anything I should know for tomorrow?"

"You should take a bath. You want to present your best self to the clients."

Lotte nodded. "I'll get on that right now."

"Good, manling. Because really, you stink."

********

It was an awkward process all around. Lotte needed help, since taking the water from the well, and heating it, weren't easy. But the first maid working there had winked and made it quite clear that she was going to enjoy helping Lotte for reasons besides a desire to be helpful. Lotte had seen plenty of looks like that, ones that lingered on her arms, and then slid up to her shoulders. It made her careful, in many ways, with where she herself looked.

So she instead picked the other maid, a girl a year or two older, and just as clearly not attracted to women at all. The woman provided her with the warmed buckets, but let Lotte pour it. Lotte bathed with her eyes closed, so that she wouldn't see anything, and once she was done, stepped out and toweled off with the woolen cloths, before setting those aside. She had a second set of her clothing--a sign, itself, of her family's status--and so she changed into those, knowing she'd have to find a river sometime soon and wash them. Finally, hair still drying, she was done with the whole humiliating process.

It felt almost pointless, since the bed she slipped into, while reasonably clean, did turn out to have a few mites. She was surprised she had her own room, and had almost expected she'd have to sleep with someone else, as was usual on the road. Instead, she slept in a small, rather dark room, and woke up at her usual time in the night to pray. There were more Gods to please, and she'd had a strange dream.

The problem with dreams was that you too rarely remembered them, considering how important they were supposed to be. All she remembered was the vague impression that she had been terrified.

At first light, they left for the shrine, the four of them, with only Lotte without mount. Clemencia had a pony, Oscar a stallion, and Guilliam a rather old looking ass. Lotte walked alongside all of them, not minding the dust and dirt all that much, though he tried to stay out of the way of it. Clemencia's advice was likely prudent. Finally, they crested a hill and saw it. The shrine was two floors high, and was roughly of a similar size to the castle Lotte had been in a week before, but was longer rather than wide. The gate had been knocked down, and the front-door was new. Lotte looked at the thatched roof, and then below that at the stained glass windows, two of them broken. Something had shattered them, leaving a hand cut off, a man dead on the ground, a thousand pieces of the whole left. None of them made sense on their own, and the violence with which they had been torn made Lotte watch them, as if they might suddenly fly at her.

The one that was untouched was the martyr amid a group of priests, left hand out in supplication, his right hand raising a crude looking spear. Why was that one untouched, and not others? The windows were high enough that it was clear nobody had climbed in and out through them. Windows with any glass at all were the province of the wealthy.

Before they'd even begun to head towards the stables at the edge of the property, behind the main shrine, a man had flung open the doors. He stepped out, tall, handsome, and in priestly robes, with an old man just behind him. The old man had only tiny tufts of hair sprouting out from beneath a tall black hat, adorned with tassel and braid indicating his very high rank.

(What rank that was, Lotte didn't know, but she knew that such signs, and the richness of the grey robes themselves, were not available to every priest.)

"So," the old man said, his voice carrying. "You are the heroes who will be the first to chase after these monsters, these defilers! You need not do more than follow their tracks, and you will see the dastardly villains!"

"We are not leaving yet," Guilliam said. "We need to look around. Talk to people."

"I find myself agreeing with the manling. Let us go inside, to talk," Clemencia said.

The priest glared at each of them and said. "The place is defiled, and we are trying to reconsecrate the grounds--"

"That is important, but we cannot shout at each other with dignity, and we must do all we can to save the martyr's relics," Oscar insisted.

Lotte would have given in to the priest, but she washed as instead they pushed him back, verbally and then almost physically, without quite being rude. Which is how they wound up in a side room away from the main body of the shrine, standing around.

"Well then, I am Lambert, Head Priest of this Shrine," the old man said. "Five days ago a dozen-odd ruffians, perhaps more, broke into the shrine at night. They had some sort of Mage with them, for our guards didn't wake, and those that did died like dogs, for they were cruel and ongodly. They stole the sacred shroud of the martyr, and his shield, and his hand, though we protected his body, the holiest relic of all. They also stole a number of scrolls, and his bloodied shirt. Each of these relics has a value beyond calculation."

"Oh? Can you tell is what that value is?" Guilliam. "How did all of this come to be? This shrine is bigger than many I've seen."

The others winced, and Lotte along with them, because this hostile attitude wasn't going to endear him to anyone.

"I am hiring you. All of you. You will track down the bandits, and if they are too numerous for you, there are other adventurers gathering, if you have to retreat and then chase after them later. But I will pay the most coin if you make it so that we don't have to hire armies just to protect the shrine. So, you will have twenty White Pfin, and a number of Black Pfin, to split between you. But we've gotten word that five others will soon arrive, and then you will have to split thirty White Pfin between the nine of you. You see why I encourage you to act so quickly."

The others frowned, and looked thoughtful at that, while Lotte tried to imagine the wealth that would be passing through her hands. A single White Pfin could get her a night at an inn even better than the one she'd roomed in down in the village, and the small handful could pay a blacksmith to forge an excellent steel sword. With five, and the Black Pfins, she could even buy a horse if she cared not for quality, but instead merely for a body to transport her where she needed to go.

It was no fortune, by the standards of Adventurers, but it was enough that if she returned home with it, they'd have thought her a successful adventurer, as far as such things were reckoned.

Now everyone started asking questions, and making polite demands, eager to do all they could to earn that silver.

Lotte had her own concerns.

What does Lotte ask about/for? (Choose 1)

[] To see the bodies. Perhaps she can tell something about what kinds of people she's looking for. Were any of the raiders killed? If not, then how did they fight? Bodies can show that too.
[] To examine the inner shrine itself, the site of all of the discord. Were certain things taken and not other things? Just what was the motive of the thieves?
[] What direction did they head? Yes, it's obvious, but more knowledge about that, and for that matter knowledge of the woods itself, is vital if they're going to find anything.
[] Write-in.

******

A/N: So there we go. I hope this is not too rough.
 
[X] To see the bodies. Perhaps she can tell something about what kinds of people she's looking for. Were any of the raiders killed? If not, then how did they fight? Bodies can show that too.

we're in a fantasy police procedure now
 
[X] What direction did they head? Yes, it's obvious, but more knowledge about that, and for that matter knowledge of the woods itself, is vital if they're going to find anything.

I figure we're the woodsman, hunter, and tracker. It's our specialized role in the party.
 
[X] What direction did they head? Yes, it's obvious, but more knowledge about that, and for that matter knowledge of the woods itself, is vital if they're going to find anything.
 
[X] To see the bodies. Perhaps she can tell something about what kinds of people she's looking for. Were any of the raiders killed? If not, then how did they fight? Bodies can show that too.
 
Okaay.
I am suspicious about murder scene and about motive behind priest trying to make us unable to see the scene. Combined with him spending money on expensive clothes...call me paranoid, but I am calling it now: he orchestrated the robbery in order to sell the relics. Or something along those lines.

But that's probably for bard to piece together? He is social powerhouse of the group, we aren't good at this.
Similarly, Clementa is better suited to looking into religion-adjacent motive for breaking only two glasses or explanations behind what was/wasn't stolen, I suppose.
Oscar is devoted and so is most likely going to defend priest right or wrong; probably useless.

Currently am torn between
[] To examine the inner shrine itself, the site of all of the discord. Were certain things taken and not other things? Just what was the motive of the thieves?
[] What direction did they head? Yes, it's obvious, but more knowledge about that, and for that matter knowledge of the woods itself, is vital if they're going to find anything.

Latter is ensuring we are doing what we know how to do and trusting others to do social/investigation parts because they are better at those.
Former is pick we go for if we do not trust party members to do due diligence and always suspect client of double crossing.
 
[X] To see the bodies. Perhaps she can tell something about what kinds of people she's looking for. Were any of the raiders killed? If not, then how did they fight? Bodies can show that too.

It's elementary, my dear Guilliam.
 
[X] What direction did they head? Yes, it's obvious, but more knowledge about that, and for that matter knowledge of the woods itself, is vital if they're going to find anything.

If Lotte were not a level 1 adventurer, I might have picked something else. As it is, he's only barely competent in his professional field and he's no idea about anything else.
 
[X] What direction did they head? Yes, it's obvious, but more knowledge about that, and for that matter knowledge of the woods itself, is vital if they're going to find anything.
 
"There's something to be said about broad judgements, manling," Clemencia. "Humans are so petty-minded."

Ah, irony. Thy name is Clemencia.
"Good, manling. Because really, you stink."

Ah, she likes us.

I mean, broadly speaking.

[X] To examine the inner shrine itself, the site of all of the discord. Were certain things taken and not other things? Just what was the motive of the thieves?

The spear was left behind. Why? Statement? Not holy enough? Too holy? Oscar would probably know something.
 
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