The city is quarantined and there is nowhere to go. Good, since we still have no idea where Elan went. Is she all right? Did she learn something she wasn’t supposed to? Has she eloped with a cabbage farmer? Hard to say, all valid possibilities.
Also, a dead body in the library, how interesting! We definitely had to go back there, and so we did. Abelwyld started conversing with a guard who appeared to be at the same time confused and distracted by the squirrel on our friend’s shoulder. He learned that there has been an outbreak of some kind of disease and that, surprise surprise, it seems to be most acute exactly in the theater district. Isn’t that wonderful?
Anyway, we eventually made it inside the library, but unfortunately the murder scene had been cleaned up already. Darn, I really wanted to have a look! Oh well, we still have a missing girl to find. Our plan is cunning, lean-and-mean, to the point and straight as an arrow. We don’t want to attract more attention than necessary so we start looking up pictures of platypuses, tearing off pages from books and… wait what? Not again! T, what are you doing!? At least Hands’ attention, after she has gotten some fresh air from the nearest rooftop, seems now to be completely dedicated to the giant book she’s holding, a fine leather-bound collection of last year’s National Schematic issues.
So, back to our fine plan. Abelwyld decided to talk to a few librarians, or many librarians, actually… he spoke to every single person in the building, twice. But in the end we managed to learn that Elan had indeed been there, quite regularly in fact, until a couple of weeks ago. We have a lead! In the meanwhile I tried to talk to the new curator in the hope I could learn a few more things about what happened to the old one in the time between when he unlocked the main entrance in the morning, and when had been found sleeping on the job, in a pool of his own blood a few hours later. Unfortunately I failed, and all I could gather was that has was “a really nice person”. Or that’s what I think the guy said, I was mostly thinking about making a mushroom soup for dinner.
So, Elan. We decided to try and get on her trail. Hands pointed out a few volumes in the upper shelves that our friend might have been perusing. T, at the vague promise of more platypus pictures, brought back the book-equivalent of a 4k video of the library’s CC cameras of Elan’s every movement for the past two weeks (I have no idea what any of those things are but they sound cool nonetheless). Together with the previous gatherings from Abelwyld, we managed to put together a rough picture of what Elan had been doing. It looks like our friend hasn’t been really looking for the masks, or maybe not only. She has consulted some books on geography but also something about… pharmacy? Is she trying to make potions? Did she catch whatever disease it’s been going around and she wants to make her own cure? Maybe we can ask the local apothecary.
At that point we decided to leave the library. Unfortunately Hands decided to bring the book she was reading with her. I know that she means well, and that she has a hard time wrapping her head around the concept of property and rules in general, but boy oh boy how pissed off was the librarian when she bolted out the building and tossed the book up in the air. And with all the people looking at us, we’re making a name for ourselves.
Anyway, before getting to the apothecary we tried using the weird mask one more time. Abelwyld had a good recollection of Elan’s satchel so he focused on that. He must have a way with magic things because the mask rewarded him with plenty of clues. Apparently she is in some sort of smelly basement, with people coughing. Maybe she really is sick. Also it appears to be a place with many, many people upstairs. An inn perhaps? That’s it! Scrap the pharmacy and the apothecary. We’re doing the only sensible thing: we follow a hunch and check out all the inns in town. Luckily with some help with everybody we managed to narrow down the list quite a bit (I pass for the investigator of the group, but it’s kind of easy to connect the dots when the others setup the ruler and ink the quill for you).
After a few attempts and thanks to Skippy’s vigilance we found the place. Of course it was packed, and naturally we didn’t have access to the cellar. As if that would have stopped us we devised another astute plan. One of the kegs of beer was almost empty, we endeavored to drink it dry so that somebody would go to the cellar to fetch another one and maybe allow T to sneak in. Surprisingly enough, I mean… as expected the plan actually worked. T snuck downstairs. The good news is that she found Elan. The bad news is that she found four other people, with armors and weapons, and that Elan threw a chair at her. Also, now the waiter is yelling at my face because Hands tripped him over and smeared some berries all over the table. I want ‘shrooms…