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the cause of, and solution to, all life's problems
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"You can do that?"

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"There are outsider markets for everything in Creation, including memories. They're valued by genies, caulborn, mercanes, inevitables, shining children… devils…" She shrugs. "If you don't have any inexplicable items or abilities then this is less likely but not impossible. The only hard part is locating a buyer."

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If someone robbed you this morning and took your reward along with your gun, she isn't saying.

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And the note you would've written. Anyone who knew about an impending mind-wipe would try to get a message to themselves. You'd carve it into your skin with your fingernails, if you had to. A conspicuous absence.

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It doesn't feel like you have any inexplicable abilities. No obvious way to start flying or grow additional limbs. Something to experiment with later.

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'Sold to an outsider' answers one unfathomable question by turning it into a dozen unfathomable questions. By design? Hopefully not by design. If this turns out to be a calculated gamble with more moving parts than an iron golem she is going to be extremely put out with herself.

"Not sure what to do with that. Um. Moving on, can we ask you a few questions?" She brandishes the wand suggestively.

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"I have nothing to hide."

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She's going to cast Detect Magic again. In fact, she is going to cast Detect Magic during every interview from now on – there is simply no reason not to do it, not during an investigation as irregular as this one is shaping up to be.

… well, almost no reason. If the person you are interviewing really is a criminal song-sorcerer (as sometimes happens outside of hypothetical situations, most often when an obviously innocent person undergoes Abadar's Truthtelling for procedural reasons), preemptively foiling Glibness is a good way to panic them into absconding or fighting. Anyone able and willing to cast Glibness while talking to the watchmen is a serious threat.

Gwen doesn't really care. Song-sorcerers that powerful are rare, and on the off chance she stumbles into one they're quite welcome to make her job easier.

Detect Magic.

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"Shalalalala. Name and occupation?"

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"My name is Merlus Ragar, and I'm retired. I make a little money from spells, mostly Ant Haul and Read Weather down at the docks, but I don't need much. I earned my keep with a sword in Ravounel."

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"Was the count accurate? Do you have any idea what's going on with her?"

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"Your guess is as good as mine, but I'd wager both of our guesses are worthless. Could be an outsider, could be divine tribulation. Could be some horrible thing that eats memories no one's ever heard of, on account of having their memories eaten. I'm sure I told you the right number of spells, if my memory of all that wasn't eaten afterwards."

He's still capable of humor, as long as the jokes are factually correct.

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"And the murder? Don't worry about what we may have already heard, just tell us everything you know."

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"They found the body at the Church of Humanity five days ago. No one goes there anymore, but the church facade was damaged at some point during the night before so there was no hiding it come morning. The provosts… I assume the provosts found a dead person in the rubble and called for the watch; I suppose it could have been reported by someone else. A sign warning passersby not to disturb anything went up before noon that day."

He frowns. "That's all I know for certain, but I'll say this too: I don't think the victim was a local. Haven't heard of anyone gone missing, and the provosts haven't gone 'round with the dead man's name and likeness. Plenty of folks land on these shores, and they're the likely sort to find trouble: merchants, sailors, and men in my line of work. Maybe more of the latter in the past few weeks than usual. I think it's one of them that died."

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"Would any of them have a reason to visit this church?"

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"Not a good reason. Those doors have been locked since before I lived here, and you'd never stumble into it by accident. If you like exploring abandoned churches, well, that's another sort of reason."

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