Powder, Smoke and a touch of Magic

Chapter 10: Conflicitng Accounts

The mid-morning sunlight spilled through the door of Morn's tavern as James and Danny entered. Morn, busy cleaning tables and floors, looked up and greeted them with a warm smile.

"Good morning, gentlemen. Settling into town, I hope?" Morn inquired as he wiped down a table.

James nodded, "Yes, thanks to your recommendation. We appreciate the hospitality."

Morn leaned on his broom, curiosity in his eyes. "What brings you here today? The tavern isn't open yet, as you can see."

James hesitated for a moment before responding, "We're looking for information about the recent death of a young girl. We were hoping you might have some insights."

Morn furrowed his brow, setting the broom aside. "Ah, that unfortunate incident. It was two nights ago when Gunther, the girl's father, burst into the tavern. He was in a state of panic, saying he found his daughter dead in the street. He mentioned something about masked figures taking her from him."

Danny chimed in, "Did he provide any more details? Why would someone target his daughter?"

Morn sighed, his expression clouding with uncertainty. "Gunther owed money to someone, that much I know. As for the details, he was too distraught to explain further. Maybe you can find out more from him directly."

"Thank you, Morn. We appreciate your help," James said, conveying gratitude.

As they left the tavern, James and Danny debated their next move. "Should we talk to Gunther ?" Danny asked.

James considered for a moment, "Let's go have a meet him"

heavy with the weight of the task before them. As the door creaked open, a weary voice asked for their identity.

"I'm James, and this is Danny. We're strangers in town, but we want to help. We heard about your daughter," James explained.

Gunther eyed them cautiously, suspicion etched in the lines of his grief-stricken face. After a moment of scrutiny, he reluctantly accepted their story and ushered them into his home.

Once inside, James took in the surroundings. Gunther, a man in his 50s with a face marked by grief, led them to a small sitting area. The room felt heavy with the palpable sorrow of a father who had lost his child.

"Please, have a seat. How can I help you?" Gunther's voice cracked with emotion as he gestured toward the chairs.

Taking a deep breath, James spoke gently, "We heard about your daughter, and we want to find out what happened. We're here to help, Gunther. Can you tell us what you know about that night?"

Gunther's eyes welled with tears, and he took a moment to compose himself. "It was two nights ago. I was coming back home from the tavern, and found masked men dragging her out. I spent the next hour looking all over town for her until I saw her, where she rests now"

Danny, sensing the pain in Gunther's words, spoke softly, "Did you see who did it? Any clues at all?"

Gunther shook his head, a deep sadness in his eyes. "No, it was dark. I couldn't see their faces. They wore masks and took her from me. I tried to fight, but they overpowered me."

James, empathetic to the man's grief, continued, "Did your daughter owe anyone money, or do you have any idea why she might have been targeted?"

Gunther's face contorted with sorrow. "She owed some money, yes. We've been struggling, and I've been trying to make ends meet. I don't know who would do this to her."

As the conversation unfolded, the weight of the tragedy settled in the room. James and Danny listened intently, knowing that the key to solving this mystery lay in the details Gunther could provide. In their quest for justice, they found themselves navigating the intricate web of a grieving father's heartache and the shadowy circumstances surrounding his daughter's untimely death.