"I am the co-owner of an inn within walking distance of one of the Inner Sea's largest naval ports." You moron. "I don't know precisely how many sailors come and go, but the coming and going is hardly unusual."

"Is there anyone you've interacted with since, let's say two weeks before the murder, whom you believe has any connection with the deceased?"

Cordell attempts to respond with 'no' and finds he cannot.

"Only the two of you," he manages to say.

"Take a few seconds to think about it, then tell me anything you imagine might be useful to the investigation."

"You should pay a visit the Temple of Hormesis and ask them some questions," he says vehemently.

He didn't answer immediately, but it can't hurt to check.

"Did you spend that time considering what I might want to know?"

"I did, and I decided you might want to know about the cult of Norgorber operating next door. In case you missed it. Detective."

That's a better lead than she was expecting. In fairness, she may have known about it and forgotten already.

"Good to know. That concludes our business here, then. We'll come back if we have any further questions."

"Not quite, detective. You still owe one hundred and thirty gold measures. Sixty for your room, thirty for your tab, and forty for miscellaneous damages."

Abadar's Truthtelling is still active as he says this.

Net worth: −130 gp

Is this what having a heart attack feels like? There's something wound painfully tight in her chest, constricting her breathing like a python crushing her ribs between its coils. She takes a single breath with deliberation and tries to make it go away.

Good! That's good. Keep your face and your upper body relaxed, focus on your breathing, and let the tension flow out of you. You've got this.

130 gold measures? Even if her partner refused to pay for anything up front, that's an impressive bill.

"Do you have that itemized?" she asks, more out of genuine curiosity than anything else.

He does, in a guestbook that doubles as a ledger. The damages include furniture, structural elements of the building itself, and several pieces of equipment that a guest would have to try very hard to actually damage. The bar tab is an absolutely terrifying quantity of alcohol. The room fee…

That doesn't quite add up. The Cannon's Jaws charges fifteen measures a night? A palatial suite in the Petal District marketed to foreign adventurers could hardly cost more than eight.

"Do you normally charge fifteen measures a night?"

Cordell looks somewhat chagrined.

"No. We don't have a fixed rate, but my brother rarely charges more than three, even for guests that decline an advance payment."

Arrest him. This is ridiculous.

Not helpful.

"She was four times as expensive to quarter as the average merchant? Did she drink enough for four women as well?"

"That number matches the amount of missing gin."

Abadar's Truthtelling expires.

Gwen was not kidding about them being behind schedule. She would almost rather walk out now and let what's-her-name face the music on her own.

Actually, she's going to do just that. If she doesn't leave in the next minute, Gwen's going to leave her behind and examine the crime scene on her own.

Gods damn it.

"Can I settle up later?"

Why are you asking permission? Hit the bricks! He can't stop you.

"That's– where are you going?"

"Later!" she calls over her shoulder, following her partner out into the street.

It's a temperate spring morning. A tītī resting on a nearby tree calls in greeting to the half-risen sun, blocking out the noise of the city. The sun remains companionably silent.

The Cannon's Jaws is the second-to-last building on a street overlooking a drowned river valley, stretching from the Isle of Erran's hidden heartlands to the Inner Sea, with the city of Escadar built into the slopes of the estuary's hills. The buildings are indistinct, details shrouded in early-morning fog, but the maze of pinewood docks tiling the water is clear. The men at work in the harbor – sailors, stevedores, and merchants alike – go about their work like ants in a colony. Their work started long before the birds said hello to the sun.