Drake’s Inquisitions is a Private Inquisitive agency in a dark, unassuming corner of the cheerfully named Deathsgate neighborhood of Sharn. If one wants to disappear, Deathsgate is a great place to do it: it is a veritable melting pot of races, professions and businesses, located a level above and only a short walk from the Lightning Rail station. Though none know what drove Drake d’Cannith to the life of an Inquisitive, he took to it with unmatched brilliance. In his relatively short tenure as an Inquisitive, he has solved countless cases, some that left even the great House Tharashk Inquisitive Agencies stumped. Though originally insistent on working alone, one by one, Drake found a handful of unique souls whose talents complimented his own, and for reasons perhaps even unknown to him, he took them in. This has resulted in his small business gaining a positive, albeit quiet, reputation.
Drake’s Inquisitions is unique among agencies in Sharn, and indeed Khorvaire. While most private inquisitive agencies are controlled by Houses Thrashk or Medani, or, at the very least, approved and sealed by them, Drake’s carries no such attachments. This allows Drake to take jobs that the Houses pass on due to political entanglements or other similar matters. The fact that these enormous agencies pass on more jobs than they take means that not only are they not competition, they are often a source of referrals. Drake has even established a relationship born of both veteran and inquisitive mutual respect with Uthar d’Thrashk, an old half-orc Inquisitive of Information Acquisition, a prominent Thrashk Inquisitive firm.
Drake and those beneath him, troubled souls brought together by fate and circumstance, are about to become embroiled in something much, much bigger than a simple inquisitive agency.
The light in the study was dim: the room contained no everburning torches, just a few scattered candles and the flickering light of the fire. A skinny man in the fine clothing remniscant of the Aundarian upper class sits behind a desk of rich oak. His ratlike face twists into a tight smile as he twists his thin mustache. “Good to see you Drake, I trust your investigation went well?” His voice was, unsurprisingly, a bit squeaky.
The man standing before the desk was old, but carried his age well. His white hair was bound in a tight ponytail, and he sported a slight goatee. He took his time responding, cleaning his small silver spectacles and replacing them, his blue eyes sparkling. “Indeed it did, Mr. Grey, but I regret to inform you that you underestimated the skills of my crew. Naturally you would be expected to hire an Inquisitive to investigate your wife’s death, though it was a bit unexpected that you would come to us, and not an agency of more reach.”
His words were friendly, soft, yet the rat like mans eyes narrowed. Drake continued. “It was the necklace, Mr. Grey, that lead us to the truth. You covered your tracks surprisingly well, and yet it seems you could not resist a bit of dramatic irony when you strangled her with the necklace her Karnathi lover gave her.” His voice maintained the infuriatingly even tone.
“I’m afraid we have taken this information to the watch. They are on their way now. We should probably address the matter of payment before they arrive, as I fear things may get a bit chaotic after the fact.”
Mr. Grey’s face contorted in wordless rage, and it was several moments before he could form words. “You traitorous old fool! You know well why I hired you! I am paying you! And you come up with this…rubbish? Bah! They were right about you, you are a crazy, backstabbing lunatic! It will be my exquisite pleasure to watch you die.”
With those words, five human swordsman dressed in fine chainmail and unmarked black cloaks swarmed into the room, sabers in hand. Mr. Grey simultaneously leapt at drake, a long silver dagger in hand. The next several breaths seemed to occur in slow motion. One of the five swordsman let slip a wicked grin, his human features melting away, a blank, featureless face in its place. Dropping the saber, a dagger appeared in his hand, seemingly from nowhere. Taking a quick step back, the dagger found its way into another swordsman’s shoulder, crippling his sword arm and drawing a pained cry.
Two of the swordsman quickly closed in on the silent Warforged, standing several paces behind Drake. Taking an aggressive stance, they flanked the bodyguard, ready to strike at the first sign of attack…but no attack came. Several whispered words echoed through the constructs being, and both swordsman fell to the ground, absorbed in a deep arcane slumber.
Drake was facing a two front battle. Ahead of him, the crazed noble charged with a dagger, behind him the hired muscle raised his saber to strike. In a blur, the old Inquisitive pulled a long, slim blade out of the cane he had seemingly relied on moments before. With one hand he easily disarmed the swordsman, knocked him off balance and held the blade to his throat as he crashed to the ground. With the other hand he lazily struck the charging man in the shins with the remainder of the cane, sending him sprawling to the ground. He lightly placed his foot on Grey’s throat, smiling down sadly.
“I believe that is the Watch I hear just now. Don’t worry about payment, friend, several of those books on your wall that you undoubtedly use for decoration are worth quite a bit. I’ll have Book here pick a few select tomes, bearing in mind an extra surcharge for this silly exch-“
Interrupting his parting words, two more mercenaries suddenly appeared the doorway, crossbows in hand. Moving quicker than a finger can pull a trigger, Drake whipped up his cane, pressed a hidden button that was all but invisible to the naked eye, and sent both mercenaries flying against the far wall as a burst of force hit them straight on.
“Well,” Drake said, straightening the collar of his long coat, “That went well.”