Sometimes I write things

“Billy Fernsworth, middle-aged male halfling, is in the Business and on the payroll. Your 4th-level Expert with the Skill Focus (Search) and Investigator feats and hIs four assistants who Aid Another (Billy Fernsworth’s Search check), and they all Take 20 — they gave you this report, based on a Search check hitting a DC in the low 40s.”

Beloved, Employers.

Pursuant To Your Request, Me And My Mates, We Went To The Address, You Said On Broken-Soul Boulevard, Which Used To Be Sage Rax’s Kip, And Secured It, Afore It Were Overrun By Filthy Xaositects, Or Like. When We Got To The Place, It Were Already Had Some Berks Rummaging, But We Gave Them A Bit Of Hurricane, And They Knew Well Enough, To Get Aboard The Trolley.

First Off, The Building Is Falling Apart, And Will Need To Be Reshored, Or Knocked Down, And Rebuilt, On Account Of, Part Of The Support Beams Is Missing, On Account Of, They Look Like They Got Exploded.

The Front Door Is Missing, For The Same Reason, As Part Of The Support Beams, So We Put Up A Tarpaulin, And Put Down A Plank, Over The Missing Part Of The Floor, And We Deep-Searched The Front Room, Looking For Anything, Just Like, You Requested.

The Front Room, Is Thirty Feet Deep, And Twenty Feet Wide, And Has A Wooden Floor, And Wooden Walls, And A Wooden Ceiling, And Probably Used To Have A Front Door, Smack Dab, In The Center, Of The Front Wall, And It Has A Back Door, In The Center, Of The Back Wall, And There Is Four Shuttered Windows, Two In The Front Wall, Both Of Which Is Only Partially Present, On Account Of The Rest Of Them Is Missing, Just Like Part Of The Support Beams, And For The Same Reason, And In The Far-Left Corner, As You Enter, You Can See, A Table That Had A Cashbox On It, Until Someone, Presumably You, Took It, The Cashbox, Not The Table.

The Front Room, As You Probably Noticed, When You Were, There Has Some Bloodstains, On The Floor, About Twenty Feet, From Where The Front Door Would Be, And Ten Feet, From The Back Door, And It Looks, Like There Were Several Deadies, Big Ones, Fighting, Some With Big Swords, And, Some With Big Sticks, And Someone Breathing, Fighting With A Spiked Chain, And Also Some Other Unknown Weapon, And Also, There Were Someone Killed Here, Which Is Who Some Of The Blood Belonged To, But The One Who Were Killed Didn’t Bleed, As Much As Would, From Normally Getting Killed, And Also, Someone Had, Some Kind Of Fire Shiv, And Someone, Maybe The Same One, Had, Some Kind Of Electrical Shiv.

On The Table, There Were A Ledger, Which Indicated, That Sage Rax, Had Been Doing Pretty Good Business, Well Enough To Pay His Taxes, Right Up To Last Week, When He Closed His Shop, “For The Weekend”, And Never Reopened. Sage Rax, Mostly, Were Answering Questions, About Inhabitants, Of The Inner Planes, For People, According To The Ledger, Although He Also, Sold Used And Reference Books, But This Were Not His Main Line And We Did Look, But, The Ledger Does Not Say Anything, About What Kind Of Questions, People Asked, Except, Which Plane It Were About, Like, Fire, Or, Dust, Or, Ice, Or, Whatever, And We Checked, To See, If There Were, Like, A Bunch Of Questions, In A Flurry, About One Plane, Before He Closed Down, But No.

No Chair At Table, So, We Figure Sage Rax, He Liked To Stand.

The Books, We Looked At, And There Were Many, Books All On Shelves, Against The Back Wall, And The Back Right Wall, In The Corner, Opposite The Table, And We Didn’t See Any Holes, Like Books Were Taken Out, In Fact, Mostly, The Books Hadn’t Been Touched, In At Least A Month, Except For One, Which Didn’t Have Dust On It, And It Is About, The History Of The Glacial Finance Corporation, And I Took That One, And Turned It Over, To Kettle Belly Bill, In Case You Wanted To Look At It.

Upstairs, There Is One Room, With The Same Dimensions, As The Storefront, And It Is Sage Rax’s Personal Quarters, I Guess, He Collected, Cigar Label Art, Because He Had Three, Big, Display, Panes, Which We Picked Up, Also He Had A Bed, With Anti-Flea Magic, And Some Very Ugly Clothes, And Some Kind Of Ritual Robe, Like He’s A Priest Of Something, Or Maybe In A Cabal, And, Brother Yon Tregoran Says, The Cigar Label Art Should Be Worth, Like, Three Thousand Jink, But It Will Be Hard, To Find A Buyer.

Downstairs, There Is A One Room Basement, Which There Is A Barrel, That Got Moved, And Carried Out, Less Than A Week Ago, And We Can’t Tell, What Had Been In It, And Also, He Had A Big Chalk Circle, Drawn In, Also Some Candles, And Ashes, Like, He’d Been Burning Books, And We Sifted Those Ashes, And Found Some Damaged Pages, But They Are Only From Old, Bound, Issues, Of The Bone-Box Gazetteer, Also, He Had Been Killing, Several People Down There, By Knifing Them, But, There Were No Corpses, Although They Didn’t Seem To Have Been Moved, Afterwards, So, Maybe He Animated Them, Or Else Had A Gate Out.

Your, Servant,

BILLY FERNSWORTH