PI / Fixer gets dropped into a brewing war between Valdemar and its enemies
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“Dead certain. Follow me — and rouse up a posse comitatus while you’re at it, the perp is armed and dangerous.”

Vir stalks down the hall to The Mark’s room, ranting and raving that there is a criminal in our midst, and generally trying to wake up the building and get a crowd going.

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Most of the people are pretty grumpy about this! It's barely dawn and this seems VERY unreasonable and he gets a lot of muttered swearwords and refusals to open doors. He can, however, amass a group of half a dozen people curious enough to see what's going on. 

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“J’accuse!” Vir shouts, and stomp-kicks the door open so hard it rattles the windows when it slams into the wall.

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The Mark groans something incomprehensible and pulls the covers over his head. 

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Vir points aggressively but vaguely around his room. “It’s in here, I can feel it! The ring I lost to that other dude in the dice game last night… if you just search his belongings —“ he turns to Lissa. “This is where the visions were pointing me. I’m sure of it.”

He takes a beat.

”Do you trust me?”

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"- Well, no. But we're all here now, guess we might as well have a look." 

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Mark grunts something and sits up, hand over his forehead. "Wha...?" 

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"You've been accused of theft, apparently. If you're innocent we'll know soon enough." Sharp look at Vir, which conveys 'you had better not be messing with me or you WILL regret it.' 

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“Don’t listen to a word this criminal says, even if it is just ‘wha…’”

Vir rummages through several random places in the room, really taking his sweet time with this bit, and then pulls the bag with the goods out from under Mark’s bed. He pours out the stolen loot onto the floor in dramatic fashion, like a toddler getting out their legos.

”How do you explain this?!”

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The Mark rubs his eyes. "I - what - how did that get there???" 

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Lissa is frowning so suspiciously, but doesn't seem sure which of them to point her suspicion at. 

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Vir puts on his most convincing expression. “Foresight. It works, General.”

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"If you say so." 

The innkeeper is summoned without much delay, yawning and rumpled. He also seems dubious of the whole affair, but like he can't be bothered to diverge off the default path here. Mark is summarily evicted from the inn. 

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After all that’s wrapped up, he finds General Lissa. He claps his hands once and rubs them together. “Alright, what’s next? Field trip to Valdemar?”

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"We were planning to head out tomorrow morning. Can maybe manage by tonight if we hustle the mercenaries hard enough. I'd like to give you an assignment, actually." Grin. 

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Vir gives a big honking thumbs up. “Hit me.”

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He's handed the names of three mercenary companies and their captains! Lissa wants him to go track them down in Mournedealth and harass them - bully them if necessary - into having all of their people and supplies ready by tonight. 

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Vir takes the list and finds the first mercenary captain.

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First captain isn't too hard to find! He's at a sort of military supply store down the street, haggling over the price of helmets and breastplates for his new recruits. He confirms he can be ready and waiting at the inn by evening. 

Tracking down the second name takes a lot longer! Vir can eventually track down someone who's seen him recently and points out where he went. The place being pointed out is clearly some sort of brothel. 

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“Everybody freeze, Holy Divine Arbiter Lance Ashkevron!” Vir shouts commandingly as he kicks open the door to the brothel. “Bring [Second Captain] out here before I have the God above Gods scorch this hive of scum and villainy to the earth.”

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A plump, matronly woman sticks her head out from a curtain and gives him a sharp, disapproving look. “Keep your voice down, would you. What’s got you a bee in your bonnet today?”

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“Hello ma’am, apologies, I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. Would you please deliver this note to [Second Captain]? General’s orders.”

He hands her a vellum postcard with fine calligraphy expressing in polite but not uncertain terms that this Captain had better stop getting his dick wet and round up his men and supplies for tonight if he wants to keep said dick, over.

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She reads it, snickers, and gives him a mock salute. "I'll most certainly do that, sir. Anything else I can do for you?" She gestures vaguely down the hall, at two scantily-clad young women poking their heads out from behind a beaded curtain to investigate all the commotion. 

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