Omen 102: Hot Leads & Cold Shoulders
Transcript & Credits
Narrator: Omen is intended for an adult audience. The story explores mature themes and contains instances of dramatized violence. Full transcripts of each episode can be viewed at omen cast dot com.
SCENE 1
[[SFX: background council speech]]
Lewin: [[under breath]] And you're quite certain this… binding ritual had something to do with the Nesmith girl?
Gwen: [[under breath]] Tobias found Hannah's ribbon near the calling diagram, Professor Lewin.
Toby: [[under breath]] The Nesmiths identified it, of course.
Lewin: [[sadly]] Yes. I imagine they would have, regardless. Was there any other solid evidence linking this warehouse to the kidnapping?
Quent: [[under breath]] Other than what our undocumented eyewitness shared, not really.
Toby: [[sardonic]] Pretty much the antithesis of evidence. Especially since that old crone probably heard us talking about the shooter's description.
Lewin: [[sigh]] Nothing irrefutable, it would seem.
Gwen: [[upset]] Surely there's something more we can do.
Lewin: [[curious]] There may be, my dear. Tell me more about this mysterious "pale man".
Gwen: [[sigh]] Besides always being partially obscured and one step ahead of us? By all accounts he's fast, nimble, [[uncomfortable]] and an uncanny marksman.
Toby: Yeah, about that. If my calculations are correct--and trust me, they are--we're looking at a distance of nearly 300 yards.
Lewin: [[surprised]] That seems a bit far for a musket, doesn't it?
Quent: Nearly twice their effective range, actually.
Toby: [[musing]] Yet still powerful enough to penetrate a brick wall.
Gwen: [[shivers]] And that horrible sound. I swear I could feel it ripping the air apart.
Lewin: Good Heavens! I can only imagine the extent of the damage suffered by this dwarven chap.
Quent: [[unsettled]] It was… messy, to say the least.
Gwen: [[disturbed]] Ugh. I'm plugging my ears.
Toby: [[matter-of-factly]] The missile entered right above the left superciliary arch, exiting through the upper occipital. It took the entire plate and half the parietal bone with it.
Quent: Or you could just say the back of his head exploded.
Gwen: [[concentrating]] Not listening, not listening, not listening…
Lewin: [[concerned]] Hmm. The object must have significantly expanded as its trajectory slowed. Quite the deadly weapon indeed. Has the Aerie been able to identify the poor chap?
Quent: There's not much left to identify. Though there haven't been any local reports of missing dwarves. He did mention fleeing to Absalom. My guess is he was a fugitive from up north in the Five Kings Mountains. Our masked gunman is most likely some bounty hunter from Highhelm.
Toby: [[teasing]] Oooh! So close! Yet so far from the truth, as usual.
Quent: [[annoyed]] What are you talking about now?
Toby: Have you not been paying attention? It's all quite obvious.
Quent: [[angry]] If you have information pertinent to this case, then I suggest you share it. Withholding evidence is an obstruction of justice.
Lewin: [[amused]] Calm yourself, dear boy. What I think Tobias is trying to say is that you already have everything you need to work out your next line of reasoning.
Gwen: [[thoughtful]] Work… side work. He said he was forbidden from taking side work in town. Which means the dwarf was already employed by someone in Almas.
Quent: And they went to the trouble of killing him instead of simply reporting the kidnapping…
Gwen: [[excited]] Which means they were trying to hide something as well! [[put out]] But… that doesn't help us find Hannah, does it?
Quent: No, it doesn't. [[suspicious]] What are you really getting at, Toby?
Toby: I don't suppose you actually know where the musket brigade got their namesake weaponry, do you?
Lewin: [[chuckles]] Oh my. That is an interesting thought…
Quent: I… wait, what? Did I miss something?
Gwen: Doesn't the Aerie have its own smithy?
Quent: Sure. But I've never seen them assemble muskets, superpowered or otherwise.
Toby: I doubt anyone in town could even repair firearms very effectively, let alone manufacture them. There's only a handful of places around the Inner Sea with the industry to even attempt that.
Lewin: [[thoughtful]] And even fewer people in Almas with both the wealth and connections to obtain it.
Gwen: [[excited]] Ooh! I knew coming to the Professor was a good idea!
Quent: [[curious]] You think you know who's behind this, Uncle Lewin?
Lewin: To my knowledge, there's only one person in Almas--indeed all of Andoran--known for their extensive collection of rare and exotic firearms. The same person who funded and secured arms for the Eagle Knight musket brigade. The same person who owns the warehouse in which you found that diagram yesterday.
[[SFX: speech commences, crowd applause]]
Lewin: [[ominously]] And she's standing right in front of us.
Quent: [[surprised]] Minister Malik?
[[SFX: gavel banging, crowd ambience]]
Gwen: [[confused]] You know her?
Toby: Remember the Pepperbox Trading Company?
Gwen: Oooh, you mean the cheesemongers?
Toby: The everything mongers. They ship to every city along the Inner Sea, including Absalom. Malik's the sole proprietor.
Quent: From the cut of her suit, it looks like business is booming. [[pause]] No pun intended.
Gwen: She does look rather dashing, doesn't she? [[gasp]] Do you think she could be our pale man?
Lewin: Not unless she can be in two places at once. The People's Council held an emergency session yesterday to discuss the Platinum Line attacks. As Malik is the chief benefactor of the project, she was of course in attendance the entire time. [[bitter]] After the waffling she gave, I'm surprised Codwin even gave her the floor today.
Quent: But why would Minister Malik risk her business, her reputation, and… well, everything to smuggle insanely powerful weapons into Andoran?
Toby: [[gleeful]] That, my friend, is an excellent question! I must say, Gwen--you certainly know how to pick the best mysteries.
Gwen: Hmm. It's the solving part I'm concerned about. What does any of this have to do with Hannah Nesmith?
Quent: Well, her father is a blacksmith. Maybe he knows more than he's telling us?
Toby: [[excited]] Yes… so many different components and variables. This case just keeps getting better and better! And if Malik is in any way involved, I'm going to get to the bottom of it.
Lewin: I wouldn't be so hasty, Tobias. Malik may enjoy the sound of her own voice on the podium, but she can be quite evasive when it suits her ambitions. And believe me, she has no shortage of ambition.
Gwen: [[suspicious]] Who is that with her?
Toby: Yeah, I was wondering that myself actually.
Quent: Who are you… [[gobsmacked]] Oh! Yeah, who is she?
Lewin: [[chuckles]] It has been a while since you've sat in on general assembly, hasn't it? That's one of Malik's newest hires.
Quent: Her bodyguard?
Toby: I'd say bodyguard slash escort.
Gwen: [[muttering]] Arm candy, more like it.
Lewin: [[diplomatic]] Personal assistant, I'm told. Though I haven't had the pleasure of making her acquaintance.
Quent: Well don't look now, but I think this is your chance. Malik seems to have spotted you, Uncle.
Lewin: [[tired]] Damn. I was supposed to talk with Brackett for her. I suggest we keep what we spoke about to ourselves for now.
Toby: [[teasing]] You got that, Gwen?
Gwen: [[warning]] I can hurt you.
Lewin: [[stern]] And do keep a civil tongue, Tobias. This is not the time for derisive quips. I have working relationships to think about.
Toby: [[mock insult]] Well, I never!
Malik: [[jovial, distant]] Don't think I won't hold you to that! Yes, of course. Thank you. [[affable]] Ah, Perseus! There you are. Skulking in the shadows, are we? [[chuckles]] I do hope the acoustics can reach all the way back here.
Lewin: [[polite]] Hello, Asema. Another rousing oration, I must say. Though I'm afraid I've not yet had a chance to speak with Venture-Captain Brackett--
Malik: [[interrupting]] Oh, no need to worry yourself with that. We've already spoken. But enough about work! I'm more interested in your little entourage here. These wouldn't happen to be our intrepid investigators, would they?
Lewin: Ah yes, forgive me. You of course remember my nephew, Quentin.
Malik: [[good-natured]] An honor as always, Constable, and thank you for your service. We can all sleep more soundly knowing upstanding wards such as yourself are on watch.
Quent: Thank you, ma'am.
Lewin: I don't believe you've met my protégé, Tobias Porte.
Malik: Good day.
Toby: [[deliberate]] Isn't it just, though?
Lewin: [[nervous laughter]] Uhhh… Tobias is an accomplished chemist, and quite the avid historian himself.
Malik: Is that so? Well that is certainly a novel set of skills, young man.
Toby: [[nonchalant]] Not really. Both disciplines are fairly universal facets of causality.
Malik: I… see. [[cordial]] And who, may I ask, is this vision?
Lewin: Ah, yes. This is--
Gwen: [[interrupting, polite]] Gwendolyn Gainsborough. It's a pleasure to meet you.
Malik: [[intrigued]] The pleasure is mine, Lady Gwendolyn. Minister Asema Malik, at your service. And is that a Taldan accent I detect? Where has Perseus been hiding you, my dear?
Lewin: That's a funny story, actually--
Gwen: [[interrupting, polite]] I've only just arrived to your lovely city, Minister. Professor Lewin hired me on as a night watchman not two weeks ago.
Malik: At that dusty antiquities shop of his? [[tuts]] Hardly the place for a wellborn young woman such as yourself.
Gwen: I like to think my recent work with the Aerie has taken precedence.
Malik: Ah, well, that is good to hear at least. [[serious]] As a free woman of Andoran, I will not stand for such depraved acts as diabolism in this city. [[mutters, almost angrily]] Most certainly not on my own bloody property. [[cordial again]] Do excuse me. This has all been quite traumatizing. I've already given a statement to Lieutenant Drakeheel. But if there's anything further I can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask.
Toby: Well, now that you mention it--
Gwen: [[interrupting]] We were actually hoping to ask a few questions, if you and your assistant have a moment. I'm sorry, I don't believe we've been introduced.
Malik: Of course, how thoughtless of me! This is my personal aide, Miss Temperance. [[pause]] Do say hello, Olivia dear.
Olivia: [[clears throat]] [[disinterested]] Charmed.
Malik: Excellent! Now we all know each other. But this is no place to have a proper conversation. Why don't you all come down to the estate this afternoon for tea? I'll send a carriage for you… shall we say around two?
Quent: That's very kind of you, Minister Malik. But that won't be necessary--
Gwen: [[interrupting]] That would be lovely--thank you, Minister. We'll be at the antiquities shop, of course.
Malik: Of course. Until then, it's been a pleasure meeting you all. Perseus.
Lewin: [[polite]] Asema.
[[SFX: footsteps]]
Toby: [[annoyed]] Well, that was an enlightening conversation. Glad you enjoyed yourself, Gwen.
Quent: Calm down, Toby. I think Gwen just did us a favor.
Lewin: [[hurried]] Indeed. Well done, my dear. This is the perfect opportunity for you three to find out how much Malik knows about the murder weapon.
Toby: [[sarcastic]] Oh yes, gabbing about the weather over petit fours is the cornerstone of any criminal investigation.
Quent: Wait. Aren't you coming with us, Uncle Lewin?
Lewin: I have a feeling our friendly entrepreneur may have a secret or two on record at the real estate office. I know a clerk who may let me nose about the place. We'll reconvene this evening and try to pin down this "pale man" character.
Gwen: [[thoughtful]] Actually, I already know who it is.
Toby: I'm sorry, what?
Quent: Really, Gwen? Who?
Gwen: I knew it the moment I saw her. Malik's assistant, Olivia Temperance. She's the one who killed the dwarf. [[darkly]] She has Hannah Nesmith.
[[SFX: OMEN MAIN THEME]]
SCENE 2
[[SFX: background fountain/birds chirping, clock pendulum ticking]]
Gwen: [[sips tea]] [[sheepish]] Well, this is nice. Right?
Toby: [[bored]] Gwen, this is a tremendous waste of time.
Quent: It's been at least half an hour. Is waiting this long normal in high society?
Gwen: Absolutely. Even if the host isn't busy, it's good to let your guests stew a while. When you have time to familiarize yourself with new surroundings, you're less likely to get distracted later during the conversation.
Toby: [[getting up]] Well, I'm going to familiarize myself with Malik's leather-bound editions. I'll bet most of them are fake anyway.
Quent: [[warning]] Toby, we talked about this in the carriage. No touching anything, no helping ourselves to "clues", and definitely no more lockpicking.
Toby: [[indignant]] As if there's anything interesting enough to keep under lock and key in here. Besides, I've seen more bookcases while walking around this ridiculous villa than actual places to read comfortably. [[pleased]] This house is like an athenaeum crossed with a mausoleum. Ha! I dare you to portmanteau that!
Quent: [[weary]] At this point I suspect you know I have no idea what you're saying and you're just baiting me.
Gwen: [[bored sigh]] Well go on then, what's that one about?
[[SFX: taking book from shelf, flipping through pages]]
Toby: [[mock haughtiness]] "A Chronicling of Ruling Houses within the Barony of Barrowood." Mmm, yes. Indeed. Look how worldly and lettered I am.
Gwen: [[giggles]]
Quent: [[sarcastic]] Oh that's real great. Be sure to do that as Minister Malik walks into the room.
[[SFX: book snapping shut]]
Toby: [[sardonic]] Anything to liven the atmosphere. At this point, I'd welcome the "pale woman" walking in and shooting me in the head.
Gwen: [[alarmed]] Toby, shhh! [[angry, under breath]] That's not funny!
Toby: [[teasing]] Well excuuuuuse me, your Ladyship. At least I don't go around accusing people of "dwarficide" without evidence.
[[SFX: stomping footsteps]]
Gwen: [[perturbed]] Keep. Your. Voice. Down.
Quent: [[nervous]] Okay, let's all just take it easy.
Toby: [[teasing]] It's a good thing I'm not prettier than you, or else you might start accusing me of--
[[SFX: slap]]
Quent: [[alarmed]] Gwen!
Gwen: [[furious]] Don't you ever speak to me like that again, Tobias Porte! That is not how friends treat one another. Do you hear me? [[pause]] I said, do you hear me?
Toby: [[sobered]] Ah. Besides the ringing in my ear, yeah--I hear you, Gwen. [[pause]] So… is this how you had planned on telling me we were friends now?
Gwen: [[sheepish]] Well… we all are, aren't we? All three of us are friends. Right, Quentin?
Quent: [[off-guard]] Oh! I mean… yeah, I suppose so. After going through everything we've seen, I guess there's no other word for it.
Toby: [[good-natured]] Well I may not be an expert on these things, but isn't there a rule somewhere about friends not smacking each other when one of them gets a little carried away?
Gwen: [[embarrassed]] Hmm. Yes, I suppose you're right. I apologize for hitting you. I didn't mean to lose my temper like that.
Toby: [[chuckles]] Naw, I deserved it. [[groan]] Although I take that back if my jaw clicks whenever I chew from now on.
Quent: [[laughs]] That may be the closest thing to an actual apology I've ever heard from you, Toby.
Toby: Hmph. I'd rather take a blow to the head any day. Just be sure to give me a better warning next time, Gwen.
Gwen: [[giggles]] Shall I announce all of my future hostile intentions with a warcry?
Quent: Make sure it's lengthy enough to give us time to duck.
Toby: Something like, [[mock haughtiness]] "Prepare thyself, knave, for the unbridled fury of Gwen's dueling gloves!"
Gwen: [[laughs]] Oh, you two! I feel like we should have a group hug.
Quent: [[uncomfortable]] Uhh… not quite there yet, Gwen.
Toby: We just broached the hitting phase. Give it time.
Oliva: [[clears throat]]
Gwen: [[startled]] Oh! Ah… good afternoon, Miss Temperance! I uhh… I hope we didn't keep you waiting long. [[pause]] Is… the Minister ready to speak with us?
Olivia: [[emotionless]] Follow.
Gwen: [[hesitant]] Of course. Thank you.
[[SFX: walking]]
Toby: [[prying]] So… Olivia, was it? I'm told you've only been with Malik for a few weeks. That must be quite interesting, managing all of her… various projects.
[[SFX: walking]]
Gwen: [[anxious]] Uhh… This house is absolutely beautiful! It… must be a wonderful environment to work in.
[[SFX: walking]]
Quent: [[clears throat]] Miss Temperance, may I ask what you did before working for Minister Malik?
Olivia: [[emotionless]] Accounting.
Quent: [[startled]] Oh! I mean… [[authoritative]] I see. Interesting.
Toby: I'm just going to go out on a limb here and guess you didn't operate locally?
[[SFX: walking]]
Quent: [[pressing]] Are you originally from Andoran, Miss Temperance?
Olivia: [[sigh]] No.
Quent: Would you mind telling me where you're from?
Olivia: [[flatly]] Katapesh.
Toby: [[speaking in Kelish]] Are you referring to the country or the city?
Olivia: [[speaking in Kelish]] The city. Your enunciation needs work.
Toby: [[impressed]] Well, okay then. Duly noted.
Gwen: Such a beautiful language, Kelish. A pity more people don't speak it on this end of the Sea. [[pause]] Were you the only recent hire from Katapesh? Or did you travel with others?
[[SFX: walking]]
Quentin: [[authoritative]] Miss Temperance, we're investigating the murder of an unidentified dwarven male which took place yesterday morning. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?
[[SFX: walking stops, door opens]]
Malik: [[calling from within the room]] Ah, hello again! Come in, come in! I'm terribly sorry for keeping you. I hope Olivia here didn't talk your ears off. [[chuckles]]
Gwen: [[recovering]] Uhh… no of course not, Minister! Thank you for inviting us into your lovely home.
Malik: Oh it's nothing, dear. Please, come and sit. I do regret not being able to join you for tea. Pressing business, I'm afraid. But could I offer you something from the bar, perhaps?
Quent: No thank you, Minister--
Toby: [[interrupting]] A chilled Egorian whiskey would be delightful, if you have any.
Malik: [[amused]] An excellent choice! I think I'll have one myself. Anyone else? No? Olivia, would you mind? Thank you, dear.
[[SFX: walking]]
Malik: [[pleasant sigh]] It is so nice to finally have some professional help around here. I honestly don't know how I managed so long without her.
Quent: She mentioned having a background in accounting?
Malik: Indeed she does. Came highly recommended by the Zephyr Guard, of all people. Apparently she worked as a quartermaster of sorts for them. Can you believe it? Brains and brawn, all in one. I couldn't have dreamt up a better assistant!
Gwen: Pardon me for asking but… do you often enlist your staff from so far abroad?
Malik: Ah, but the world is not so large as it once was. These days, a week at sea can take you just about anywhere. And what is the nation of Andoran if not a shining example of democratic pluralism? [[haughty]] So, yes--I pride myself on importing a bit of color into Almas' drab palette. A short walk around these grounds will reveal a rich tapestry of culture from every corner of the Inner Sea.
Toby: [[incredulous]] Hmm. Seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to for one assistant.
Malik: I employ captains and crews who travel to every port city within 500 leagues of here. With them travels word of employment opportunities within Pepperbox. I was, however, certainly surprised when Olivia showed up at my door one day with a letter of endorsement.
Quent: So she was an impulse hire?
Malik: You could say that. I'll admit I was impressed by the great lengths she went to just to arrive here. But she's given me absolutely no reason to doubt my decision.
[[SFX: walking, tray rattling]]
Malik: Ah, speak of Asmodeus! Thank you, Olivia, dear. [[sips]] Ahh. Is the year to your liking, Mr. Porte?
Toby: [[sips]] [[coughs]] [[wheezing]] Oh yes. Very smooth, thanks.
Malik: [[amused]] Excellent. Thank you, Olivia. That will be all.
[[SFX: walking, door closing]]
Gwen: [[under breath]] Has she always been so… reserved?
Malik: [[laughs]] Forgive me, detectives, but I didn't realize Miss Temperance had made such a profound impression on you all. I thought you came here to speak with me about the break-in.
Toby: Yeah, about that--
Gwen: [[interrupting]] We have reason to believe there may be a connection between your warehouse and yesterday's murder, Minister.
Malik: Good gods, but you don't think… Oh, I see. [[miffed]] Well, I certainly don't know where you got that idea. Olivia may be a bit lacking in social graces, but she certainly isn't a cold-blooded killer.
Quent: Can you confirm where Miss Temperance was at quarter past ten yesterday morning?
Malik: Absolutely. I was, of course, in session with the People's Council all day. Olivia was with me the entire time.
Toby: And are there members of Council that can corroborate this?
Malik: [[offended]] Besides myself, you mean? There were over fifty of us in attendance, including the venerable Professor Lewin. I'm sure most of them can verify she was there.
Gwen: [[diplomatic]] Please forgive us, Minister. Miss Temperance shares some similarities with the suspect and we're only trying to account for all possibilities, no matter how unlikely.
Malik: [[warmly]] Yes… yes, of course. I didn't mean to take offense. It's been a… stressful month for me, as you know. First these attacks on the Platinum Line and now this ugly business with my father's warehouse.
Gwen: Oh! It belonged to your father?
Malik: [[wistful]] He built it with his own two hands. For years it was the headquarters of the Pepperbox Trading Company, our first distribution center. I have many happy childhood memories of that old barn.
Toby: Do any of those memories include hidden staircases?
Malik: [[chuckles]] Almas was a very different place thirty years ago. The Council was still in its infancy and the Andoran Reserve wasn't yet stable. Many business owners hid their life savings and valuables beneath floorboards, in wall safes. Some still do, in fact.
Toby: Interesting that whoever vandalized your warehouse obviously knew about this… family secret. Especially considering the evidence suggesting these rituals had been performed over the course of many years.
Malik: [[wary]] I understand how this looks, Investigator. But my father fled Infernal Cheliax during the Revolt. He raised me to understand the terrible consequences of associating with such evil. The fact that this… unspeakable act was performed in the establishment my father built is an insult to his legacy and an attack on all that I hold dear.
Quent: So you have no idea who may have done this?
Malik: [[sigh]] Some old rival of my father's… a disgruntled former employee… possibly even one of my own numerous competitors. I also wouldn't rule out certain political players, perhaps looking for inventive ways to further disrupt the construction of the Platinum Line. Either way, I am confident that our combined efforts will reveal the culprit.
Toby: You've been conducting your own investigation, haven't you?
Malik: [[ominous]] I have people making inquiries, yes. I don't know who would go to such great lengths to tarnish my name like this. But they'll soon find I can go to far greater lengths to expose the truth.
Quent: And what happens if you… expose the truth outside of the Aerie's jurisdiction?
Malik: [[amicable]] Rest assured, Constable. My enthusiasm for justice may be of a personal nature. But I would never dream of circumventing the law or taking any action which hasn't been sanctioned by the Council.
Gwen: [[congenial]] Of course, Minister. Thank you for your help. We're so grateful to have you as an ally during this investigation.
Malik: And I you, my dear. I only wish I could do more.
Toby: Actually, there is one thing that might help.
Quent: That is, if you'd be so kind as to humor us.
Malik: Of course. Name it.
Toby: A little bird told us you're something of a gun nut.
[[SFX: TRANSITION MUSIC]]
SCENE 3
[[SFX: birds chirping, outdoor ambience]]
Malik: [[shouting]] Pull!
[[SFX: clay pigeon released, blunderbuss shot]]
Gwen: [[excited]] Well done! How far do you think that one went?
Toby: A good forty yards, I'd say.
[[SFX: handling firearm]]
Malik: [[cheerful]] Give or take. With the blunderbuss, accuracy is less of an issue. It just gets so dull shooting at stationary targets all the time. Clay pigeons are good for practice, but there's nothing like a good old-fashioned fox hunt to get the blood pumping.
Quent: So which of these can shoot the furthest?
Toby: Farthest.
Quent: [[annoyed, under breath]] Toby!
Malik: Well, your typical black powder musket is effective up to 150 yards. Though I did advise the brigadier captain to stay within half of that. The lethality increases exponentially at shorter ranges.
Quent: And you don't know of anything that can go furth--I mean, farther than 150 yards?
Malik: Well, there is the dragoon musket. But that old girl won't get anywhere near the distance of this "miracle firearm" of yours. And she certainly doesn't have the accuracy or the stopping power that you're talking about.
Gwen: Would you mind terribly if we asked for a demonstration?
Malik: Not at all! Olivia, would you be so kind? It's the one in the case over the mantle. Thank you, dear.
[[SFX: walking in grass]]
Gwen: Oh, I do hope we're not being a bother.
Malik: It's no trouble, I assure you. I just have to pack a few charges at a higher grain count. Besides, it's been too long since I've taken old Slinger out for a shoot.
[[paper rustling, tinkling grains]]
Toby: Slinger?
Malik: [[chuckles]] Yes, because she'll put your arm in a sling if you're not careful. Throwing a 70 caliber slug will do that.
Quent: And even after all that, she--I mean, this firearm still won't reach 300 yards?
Malik: Hmm. 200 perhaps, if the wind was right. But even if a marksman were talented enough to make the shot, a musket ball would simply bounce off a brick wall. As I said, long distances just aren't practical for that level of accuracy and damage.
Toby: Could the weapon, or perhaps the ammunition, be… enchanted to increase its range?
Malik: [[scoffs]] That would… be interesting indeed. The few magically augmented pieces in my possession have either had their accuracy increased or carry more… utilitarian enhancements. But I've never heard of magically altering the range of a weapon.
Quent: I take it magical firearms are fairly uncommon?
Malik: You could say that. Last I checked, the Abadaran Church has them classified as "priceless artifacts", which makes their retail value a bit fluid. Let's just say that, well--even for a woman of my means, the magical arms in my collection were a… considerable investment.
[[SFX: walking in grass]]
Malik: Ah, and here she is now.
Gwen: Oh my goodness! She's enormous, isn't she? [[hurriedly]] The gun, I mean.
Malik: [[laughs]] Yes, Slinger is quite an impressive piece. An antique, really--thank you, Olivia. But beautiful as she is, the old girl is tragically unwieldy.
Quent: [[pondering]] Yeah, this weapon seems a lot longer than the one we saw yesterday.
[[SFX: handling firearm]]
Malik: If a larger caliber equals more power, then a longer barrel means greater accuracy.
[[SFX: firearm cocking]]
Malik: I trust you all can see that stump at the edge of the property? [[deep breath]]
[[SFX: large musket shot]]
Malik: [[gruff] Damn. Just short.
Gwen: [[reassuring]] Still very impressive, though. It certainly sent up an impressive plume of dirt.
[[SFX: reloading gun]]
Malik: [[chuckles]] You do prefer seeing the brighter side of things, don't you Lady Gwendolyn? [[sigh]] It's just as well. A hit would've only ricocheted off at this distance.
[[SFX: handling firearm]]
Toby: [[contemplative]] Hmm. Quite a bit more smoke than I was expecting.
Quent: Is Slinger also a dwarven-made piece, Minister?
Malik: Indeed she is. A gift from the personal armory of a General Sagga--something-or-other from my adventuring days. As soon as I spotted this beauty, I knew I could never go back to using a simple crossbow. And thus, my love affair with personal firearms began.
Quent: So everything in your collection was smithed in the Five Kings Mountains?
Malik: Most, yes. I suppose it's no surprise that I spent my youth campaigning in and around where my weapon of choice was being manufactured.
Gwen: Most… but not all?
Malik: Ah, well. The dwarven engineers up north are a bit reluctant when it comes to magical enhancements to their work. The augmented varieties I mentioned earlier--they were special-ordered directly from Alkenstar.
Gwen: [[thoughtful]] Alkenstar… why does that name sound so familiar?
Malik: [[amused]] I imagine you recognize it from your history lessons. The Alkenstari Gunworks have a long history of constructing famous siege engines--namely Taldor's fabled Worldbreaker.
Toby: [[suspicious]] Hold on. You have connections to the original inventors of firearms?
Malik: If by connections you mean the funds required to pay their exorbitant fees… then yes. I have a habit of splurging a bit to celebrate lucrative business milestones.
Toby: [[scoffs]] So the super rich can just send off an order form in the mail for some of the most jealously guarded technology on the face of Golarion?
Malik: [[aloof]] Something like that, yes.
[[SFX: firearm cocking]]
Malik: Would any of you care to try for yourselves? Constable?
Quent: [[off-guard]] Oh! Thank you, but I think I'll pass on handling an exploding antique.
Malik: [[laughs]] Fair enough. Lady Gwendolyn?
Gwen: Oh, you're very kind. But I wouldn't dream of--
Toby: [[interrupting]] You'll have to excuse my friends, Minister. Their excessive etiquette is, as usual, keeping us from doing our jobs. May I?
[[SFX: handling firearm]]
Malik: [[amused]] Of course! You'll want to cradle the stock in the armpit, like--yes, very good. Now then, keep in mind Slinger was designed to be held by dwarven marksmen. So before taking in and holding a deep breath, you'll want to brace yourself against the--
[[SFX: large musket shot, body hitting the ground]]
Toby: [[wheezing]] Okay then.
Quent: [[stifles laugh, snickers]]
Malik: [[awkward]] Ah… yes, well. Olivia, could you fetch a compress, please?
Gwen: [[snickering]] Are you alright down there?
Toby: [[wheezing]] Fine, fine. Just taking a rest.
Quent: [[laughing, wiping a tear]] Oh, I'm going to remember this moment.
Gwen: [[amused]] Here, take my hand. Not with your right arm, silly!
[[SFX: Toby grunts as he's pulled to his feet]]
Toby: [[winded]] I take it my shot went high?
Malik: Decidedly so. Nothing broken, I hope?
Toby: [[dismissive]] I'm fine.
Quent: You won't be tomorrow morning. That shoulder is going to be sore as--
Toby: [[interrupting]] Is this black powder imported from up north as well?
Malik: [[off-guard]] Uhh… no. Actually, I believe this batch came from Maheto. The World's Edge blends tend to favor a bit more saltpeter than I normally care for, but you can't argue with their prices.
Toby: [[suspicious]] Right.
Quent: That reminds me--does the Pepperbox Trading Company employ many dwarves from the area?
Malik: [[off-handed]] Oh, as many as any other business in Almas. Some of my best engineers on the Platinum Line project are from Five Kings. But I can guarantee you yesterday's victim wasn't on our payroll in any way. Believe me… I've already looked into it.
Gwen: [[contemplative]] This may be an odd question, but do you have… some sort of policy that prohibits employees from taking side work outside of Pepperbox?
[[SFX: walking on grass]]
Malik: Besides the standard non-disclosure and client exclusivity clauses, no--not at all. Far be it from me to stifle the aspirations of our hard-working citizens. [[distracted]] Yes, Olivia?
Olivia: [[emotionless]] Callers for you.
Malik: Can't it wait, dear? [[pause]] I see. Please excuse me, investigators. This should take but a moment.
[[SFX: walking in grass]]
Quent: [[sigh]] Well, it looks like you were right about one thing, Toby. This was a huge waste of time.
Toby: You're joking, right? Malik's the best lead we've had so far!
Gwen: What do you mean?
Toby: One of you take that… whatever that gun is called and act like you're really interested in it.
Quent: Why?
Toby: Don't look now, but those groundskeepers over there--I said don't look, Gwen. They've been watching us like hawks this entire time. You two distract them so I can grab one of these charges.
Quent: You expect us to help you steal explosives? If you want one so badly, why not just ask?
Toby: Because I don't trust Malik, obviously. Just go with me on this. Now hurry up and start manhandling something expensive already!
[[SFX: handling equipment]]
Gwen: [[theatrical]] Ooh! Look at this one, Quentin! Such a beautiful little gun! And so compact as well! Wouldn't you say?
Quent: [[flatly]] That's a cleaning kit, Gwen.
Gwen: [[theatrical laugh]] Oh, how perfectly droll! But isn't this a lovely one! And so heavy too!
[[SFX: handling firearm]]
Quent: [[nervous]] Okay. You can stop pointing it at my face now, thanks.
Gwen: Oops, sorry! [[under breath]] Oh no. They're coming back, Toby.
Toby: [[under breath]] I see them. Keep talking.
Quent: [[under breath]] This is really, really stupid.
Gwen: Uhh… [[theatrical]] Why yes, Quentin. The finish on this wood is very… brown. And such a lovely shade too!
[[SFX: walking on grass]]
Quent: [[stilted]] Yes, Gwen. Let's go ahead and put it back with the others now. [[concerned]] Umm… is everything alright, Minister?
Malik: [[sigh]] Actually… I'm afraid I have some troubling news, Constable. It seems your uncle has been caught trespassing on government property.
Quent: [[shocked]] What!?
Gwen: Oh my goodness!
Toby: Wait, what do you mean "trespassing"?
Malik: I'm not yet certain, but Perseus Lewin has been arrested and is in custody at the Aerie. You're all wanted for questioning.
[[SFX: dramatic stinger, OUTRO MUSIC]]
CREDITS
Narrator: Omen, episode 102: "Hot Leads and Cold Shoulders" was written and edited by Tim Krause. Featuring Mamito Kukwikila as Gwen, A.J. Beckles as Tobias, Charlie Wes as Quentin, Chris Einspahr as Lewin, Sena Bryer as Malik, and Meli Grant as Olivia. Additional voices provided by Sam Eisele. Original music composed by Matt Lee.
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