Baladas's mood had swung again by the next day. The mercurial wizard was now deep into his studies, and barely noticed when Winterbell left. Winterbell chalked up another one for magic warping the brain and spent some time wandering around the rocky Gnisis countryside. She found quite a few bandits and a friendly, if rather taciturn, vampire and his groupies.
With her pack filled to bursting Winterbell decided to take a chance on the weather having improved, and take the strider back to Balmora. Her luck with her fellow travelers was only marginally better than last time. A large family of Argonians was on holiday. Luckily none of them got travel sick, and, for the sake of relative quiet, Winterbell got out her light amulet and amused the scaly little hatchlings by making random objects, including their parents, glow.
Winterbell and the Argonians parted ways at Ald Ruhn. Winterbell handed over the cheap amulet to the grateful mother in exchange for some sload soap, and stilt-strode to Balmora.
The skies were still cloudy, but patches of stoneflower blue were showing though and promising some sun to dry up the mud. Winterbell was surprised to see a Hlaalu guard at the strider docks, he seemed to be checking all passengers leaving the town quite thoroughly. Even more peculiar was the fact that no one seemed to be complaining.
In fact, the local militia was out in force, for every second citizen seemed to be wearing the familiar spiked armor. There was an air of scandalized excitement in the town, although from the random snatches of conversation Winterbell could not work out what could be the cause.
The Mage's Guild was an oasis of relative quiet, but even there everyone was in a state of alertness. The guard checking all travelers using the guild guide only added to the atmosphere. Ranis seemed to resent the intrusion, and kept eyeing off the guard balefully. He appeared not to notice.
Winterbell glanced around, there weren't many customers, and everyone seemed to be working hard on important tasks, only to break off and gossip every two minutes. To Winterbell's faint annoyance, no one appeared to notice she was there.
"Hey," she addressed the room at large, "who died?"
"Ralen Hlaalo." Ajira answered.
"Oh." Winterbell was nonplussed.
"He was murdered." Masaline added excitedly. "His maid found the body, he'd been chopped up!"
"Who is Ralen Hlaalo?"
"It was a frightful mess apparently." The Breton appeared not to have heard Winterbell's question.
"And now the whole town is in a uproar and it's bad for business." Ranis said indignantly, as if it were a personal insult to her to get oneself murdered.
"Yes, but who-"
"They called an emergency meeting at the Hlaalu Council Manor. Marayan was summoned as well." Estirdalin chipped in.
"He'll be back soon. He can tell us what's going on."
"He might not be free to talk about it, Masaline."
"They don't think we might have done it do they?" She seemed positively hopeful that they might.
"Oh they'll try to pin it on a mage, no doubt." Sharn added darkly, "All someone has to do is die of swamp fever and suddenly it's necromancy this and necromancy that."
Ajira raised an eyebrow, "People don't die from swamp fever, Sharn."
"Err...you know what I mean."
Winterbell decided not to fight her way through the town to sell her goods just yet. Everyone seemed to be in an unhelpful mood, so she attempted to enchant some items. However, with all the uproar her concentration was shot, and rather than waste any more gems she popped out briefly to buy comberry pies and a copy of the scandalously trashy Last Dance.
Eventually the other mages left for the night and Ajira curled up under her desk. Winterbell kept reading by candlelight, deciding to push on and finish the book before getting some sleep.
Marayan came back about a call before midnight looking tired and worried. He collapsed into a chair and rubbed his eyes. Winterbell closed her book and offered him some comberry pie.
"Thanks, they sent out for food, but that was hours ago. I'd quite forgotten just how long those meetings can go for."
"Help yourself then. Did the meeting achieve anything useful?"
"No. I assume you know what's going on then?"
"Everything except who Hlaalo actually was."
"Well that's easily answered." He helped himself to another slice of pie. "He was a Hlaalu noble. Old family, very respected. He owned one of the big manors up on the hill, that's where he was murdered."
"Was he well-liked?"
"Yeah, mostly. He was quite a connoisseur, had a cellar to rival any in Vivec and treated his subordinates well. Didn't own slaves, a typical, progressive Hlaalu noble."
"Did you know him?"
"Not really. I'd spoken to him of course, but I try to stay out of House business. There was some talk of him being, well, you know." Marayan inclined his head. Winterbell stared blankly.
"Umm...no. What was he?"
"You know, one of those."
"What?" Winterbell was getting slightly exasperated.
"Have you ever met Crassius Curio?"
"No."
"Oh. Well...he was a bit like Crassius. A bit...fruity." Marayan seemed to be willing Winterbell to understand.
"Oh, so he liked the company of other men, you mean."
"Yes. Well, only maybe." Marayan seemed rather embarassed, "Don't put it so plainly. And can we please change the subject."
"Of course. As long as they don't think it was a jealous lover that did him in."
"It's no more far-fetched than most of the theories floating about at the moment." Marayan sighed and looked down. "He was a good man. He didn't deserve this. And there's the maid."
"The maid?"
"She's a witness, if a rather hysterical one at the moment. There's a chance the murderer will come back and finish her off too."
Winterbell stood up suddenly, a determined look on her face. "Right. So lets find this bastard and chop him up."
"Winterbell, this is a job for the guards. Or a Hlaalu Lawman. We're mages."
"Yes, yes we are. And that means we might just have the brains to work out who did this. Or do you really think that the guards will catch the killer?"
Marayan frowned. He glanced up at Winterbell who was watching him expectantly. He shook his head,
"All right. I hope I don't regret this."
"I'll make sure you get a decent burial."
"Make sure you bury me in something cheap then. I don't want to be disturbed next time you want a new calcinator."
Winterbell narrowed her eyes but didn't reply.
The next morning Winterbell got up early and enchanted a glass sword she had collected from one of the bandits. With 'Frosted Glass' strapped to her belt and a couple restore magicka potions in her bag she felt well-equipped to take on Hlaalo's murderer.
The guard resumed his post at the guild guide as the Guild opened for business. He was soon followed in by a Dunmer in black netch leather armour. He looked vaguely familiar, but Winterbell didn't recognize him until he spoke to her.
"Dren? Is that you under there?"
The Dunmer looked faintly embarrassed, "Father insisted we all learned something of the arts of war. Not that I was ever much good. I thought it might be prudent to be armored, since you're so keen on looking for trouble."
"Good idea. If I thought I could move in the bloody stuff I'd be wearing some myself."
"These things are so unwieldy, it feel so strange to be wearing this again. It's a ridiculous get-up for a mage."
Winterbell grinned, "You don't look that bad to me."
Marayan looked at his feet and mumbled something as Winterbell swept upstairs. "Well?" She looked back, "We've got a mystery to solve."
"The maid's been taken to a secret location for her own safety. We won't be allowed to see her."
"Do you know where she is?"
"Yeah, in about the safest place in Balmora, but I'm not going to tell you, if that's what you think."
Winterbell sighed, "It would make our job a lot easier if we could talk to her. Oh well, we'll have to take a look at the scene of the crime instead."
"They've locked Hlaalu Manor up. Nileno has the key, I think, but she's not going to hand it over to me; I'm only an affiliate of the House."
"You're good at alteration aren't you?"
"Well yes, but-"
"Are you in or are you out?"
"I swear, you're going to land us both in gaol."
"Don't worry, I have enough gold to get us off murder."
"Why don't I feel reassured by that?"
Winterbell was very blasé, almost bored, by the break and enter. Marayan found her attitude extremely irritating, for he was not used to this kind of thing. With a satisfying 'click' the balcony door unlocked in a swirl of magicka. The pair ceased their whispered bickering and stepped into the death house.
Inside it was noticeably quieter than most tombs. If Ralen's ghost remained in the manor it was not revealing itself. Marayan opened a door silently, peered in, then closed it again.
"Maid's room." He mouthed. Winterbell nodded and gestured for them to go upstairs first. Winterbell realised that there was no reason for them to be creeping about, but nevertheless did not make any noise.
The master bedroom had been the scene of a violent struggle. Furniture was smashed, and there were bottles and knick-knacks on the floor. Winterbell picked up a bottle of vintage brandy, but caught Marayan's eye and put it back down again.
"He wasn't killed here." Winterbell declared.
"You're very sure about that."
"He's been 'chopped up', if I've been informed correctly. I don't see any blood here. Anyway, the motive wasn't robbery, there's too much stuff lying about."
"Downstairs then?"
Winterbell nodded grimly.
There was no doubt about where the killing had taken place. The floor and wall near one of the unfortunate noble's bottle racks was stained with what was obviously blood. Winterbell bent over the stains, and paced things out. Marayan went and examined the papers lying on Ralen's desk.
Marayan found letters and House circulars, a ledger and a copy of Wild Nords: Untamed and Uncensored. The second drawer was empty. Marayan frowned, something was nagging at him, something that should have been there wasn't.
Suddenly there was the sound of voices outside, and the scratching of a key in the lock. Winterbell and Marayan looked at each other, panic stricken, then as one made a dash for the second floor. Winterbell was almost at the door when Marayan grabbed her arm.
"What the hell-" she mouthed angrily. Marayan put his finger to his lips and pointed downstairs. Winterbell nodded her understanding, and they listened to the group below.
There were several people examining the room below, a couple of them stayed silent and were probably guards. There was a feminine voice that Winterbell recognized as Nileno's and another Dunmer woman with a husky voice that Winterbell had never heard before. Nileno spoke loud enough for the eavesdroppers to make out words,
"...Right here. It was a frightful mess....cremated of..." The other woman spoke up,
"The maid...man with spiked hair. It could be anyone...out of her wits."
"I'll show you upstairs."
Quickly and quietly Winterbell and Marayan slipped outside.
Winterbell and Marayan went to The Eight Plates for lunch, although Marayan confessed that he was less than hungry. They sat in a secluded corner and discussed their findings.
"I'd say it was done with an axe, or a claymore. Something big and messy."
"Not exactly your typical assassin's weapon."
"Any half-decent assassin would have killed Hlaalo in his bed, not let him run downstairs, let alone let the maid see anything."
"Unless it was meant to serve as a warning."
"To who? About what?"
Marayan shook his head, "I don't know. I can't imagine Ralen doing anything to upset anyone that much."
"And who was that other woman?"
"Oh her," Marayan grinned, "that was Ethasi Rilvayn. She runs the local Morag Tong branch. A fine figure of a woman, and a dangerous one too."
Winterbell looked rather put out, "Oh. I take it the maid is stashed with the Morang Tong then."
"Yeah."
"And she's said something about spiked hair."
"It doesn't really narrow down our search. For all we know he could have had a haircut."
"We need a motive. Otherwise we may as well throw our hands up and say it was some random crazy."
"There are people who are claiming it was one of those Sixth-House cultists."
"We have people claiming it was the Morang Tong, Cammona Tong, Dark Brotherhood, Telvanni, Twin Lamps and the Carpenters and Textile Workers Union."
"I heard that it was an Argonian who did it."
"Where did that rumour come from?"
Marayan scratched his head, "I'm not sure. It seems to be strangely popular though. I know for a fact that Ralen had Nine-Toes over at his house at least once, but I didn't pay it any attention. He had a lot of people over recently; he's been doing a lot of research for his..." Marayan's eyes lit up in comprehension, "next report for the House. That's it!"
"What's it?"
"That's what was missing. From his desk. Most Hlaalu who aren't part of the everyday business have pet projects or research. It's good politics to be seen to be doing something. Ralen always sent in huge reports. It's not as if he had anything better to do."
Winterbell grinned triumphantly, "Now that's more like it. If Argonians don't have spiky heads I don't know who does."