"Rae, look!" Sol points out the underseam of the sarcophagus. "I think this is one piece of marble...there is no opening! That's neat, huh? Someone had to work really hard to carve it like this," Sol continues, running her hands along the not-lid.
"Well, this is a neat place, may be nice on a hot day, but not much to see here, is there?"
As Solrisa caresses the humanoid's broad chest, the marble sighs under her fingers. The face of the carving turns to the flaxen maiden, and speaks.
"Speak my name, and accept my gifts."
The face grows still.
Sol smiles at the maidenly face.
Oh!! How tricksy!! FUN!!!
Sol looks at the smart ones, Ascaria and, uh...herself to see if they remember the name.
"Is your name Aurora? That's a pretty name!" Sol claps excitedly at her good guess.
After seeing the Gnome take flight, the halfling follows, not wanting to leave one so talented and powerful vulnerable in such a dangerous place.
Once she joins the others, she'll stay out of the way, but peer curiously and carefully around the area, staying wary for more trouble, traps, and assorted other tribulations.
Her brow arches as Solrisa speaks with the statuary, wondering what connection bright-eyes would have with a place like this.
"Rae, look!" Sol points out the underseam of the sarcophagus. "I think this is one piece of marble...there is no opening! That's neat, huh? Someone had to work really hard to carve it like this,"
"Wow, Sol. That is very good. Be careful, though. Who knows if they've left traps or something somehow."
"I'm not sure. Let's poke around a little more."
Tynan joins the others up the column of air, examining the sculptures and other carvings.
Should he spot any runes of glyphs, he will attempt to decipher their meaning through careful study.
"This is all pretty amazing!"
Ascaria starts with the walls and ceiling and ends with the sarcophagus.
"Hey, look here, this thing does open somehow, but maybe just with magic. There are two magical auras inside... strong ones too!"
"Hey Tynan, do you remember the old poet who drifted through here a few years ago? Didn't he say something about this warrior?"
Pillette sweeps the room, fairly confident that this room is devoid of traps.
The glyphs... they seem to vaguely represent letter forms you've seen based in the Draconic language, with much less confusion than you've encountered in Infernal writings you've come across.
This writing seems to represent Auran, the language of Air Elementals primarily. You have heard it mentioned that distant lands have revered it, and as such have adopted its use in their regional cultures.
The glyph you study now, it represents a name, once you hear Ascaria speak of warriors. It's a personal representation of the humanoid you have seen both in the lantern chamber as well as this tomb.
The glyph can be spoken, something like 'Zo-see-el', or 'Sho-key-al'.
This is the true tomb of the humanoid laid to rest here. The initial sarcophagus located in the main prismatic chamber is likely a decoy or false face of the tomb, meant to stop tomb raiders from venturing further into the complex.
"I think you're right, Ascaria." Tynan nods to the gnome, while examining the glyphs on the sarcophagus. He points to one of the glyphs and continues. "This appears to be in Auran, the language of air elementals and those cultures which revere such beings. I believe this is the name of the occupant."
Tynan pauses briefly, lays a hand on the sarcophagus, then speaks. "I'm not well versed with the language, but it's pronounced either 'Zo-see-al' or 'Sho-key-al'.
As Tynan lays his hand upon the abdomen of the large humanoid's sculpting, and speaks two forms of a name, a thin blue line of light emerges along the upper edge of the sarcophagus. It fades soon enough, revealing a seam, differentiating lid from base.
Sol claps as the sarcophagus changes, revealing an opening.
"Rae, look! I, we, did it!! Oooh...I love surprises!! What's inside?!" Sol lifts on the lid. "Rae, what do you think is inside? Maybe it is more coal like I got last HollyTide?"
"Rae, look! I, we, did it!!"
Tynan arches an eyebrow at Solrisa, but lets the moment pass. He looks expectantly into the sarcophagus when it opens.
With very little effort, the lid slides along the edges of the base, revealing the contents of the sarcophagus. From the bas-relief, it appears that the diadem worn by the humanoid is here, resting on a light blue silken pillow.
Further into the sarcophagus, a pair of red-tipped, black horns rest on the cold marble. Alongside the horns, a smallish pewter box sits in a puddle of hardened yellow wax. Alien, writhing letter forms cover the pewter box, and a light melted metal graces the front of the box, sealing it.
Ascaria peers, without touching, and tries to identify the magics within.
"I don't like the look of those horns." he mutters.
As much as his clouded eyes try, Ascaria is unable to deduce the magical natures of either the two items radiating so strongly from within the sarcophagus.
The box seems plain enough a container, despite the alien writings etched into the metal. You can see the Weave radiating from within... perhaps if someone were to open it while you continued to examine the Weave...?
Ascaria's eyes, already cloudy, glaze over as he gazes at the magics within. Unable to 'see' clearly, he removes the impediment to his sight - he reaches in, picks up the box, and opens it without thinking, breaking the seal carefully with his dagger.
Tynan attempts to decipher the writings on the lid of the pewter box.
As the metal cracks off the box, the gnome can lift the lid with the dagger's blade, and continue studying the Weave there within.
Your eyes alight upon a long handle attached to an adamantine loop. It appears to be very much like the device held by the demoniac figure in the bas-relief. The loop appears to be controlling that black sphere...
You can sense a transmutative magical aura emanating from this strange device, but you can not tell anything further about its nature.
Fresh from your success in deciphering a name, a revered warrior's name no less, you turn your attention to the alien writing on the pewter box. For every moment you think you understand the structure of the strange etches, it seems to shift. It seems to become something new, something random... When you blink your eyes, the etching seems to return to its original state, and once more, it shifts while you stare at it...
Ascaria holds up a long handled object with an adamantine loop. He holds it up to the bas-relief and compares it to the thing the demon is holding.
"Yep, this is the demons loop, and those look a lot like his horns. I don't know what this stuff does, but I'd wager it's nothing good."
"We should figure out what these things are, and quietly if we can. Might need to destroy them or something. They feel unnatural somehow."
Ascaria looks to the others for wisdom... and shrugs.
The halfling has a hard time tearing her eyes from the red-tipped horns, memories of power and fear, of desire and sacrifice welling through her.
"Those horns look, well, I wouldn't say exactly familiar, but I imagine they attach to some sort of extraplanar power." And represent someone's pact for power.
Her contemplation is broken when Ascaria surprisingly unseals the box. "Are you willing to open yourself to whatever power is..." She cannot finish before the Gnome has opened and retrieved the loop.
Waiting on his words, a very disappointed look passes her face, before she sighs inwardly and quietly. "Demon's loop? Are you sure it's demons? If so, that is not something you should trifle with. Demons are... beyond untrustworthy."
Sol claps as yet more boxes are opened and explored. She likes surprises and wonder.
"What are those things? Horns?" Sol picks up one of the horns and sees if it is a blowy horn or just a horny horn. She will look at them with her dragon's eyes.
"These are neat, aren't they?"
AC 17, 21 on AoO; 26/26 HP
BAB = +3 (level 3)
ToHit = 1d20+6
RHit = 1d20+6-2
LHit = 1d20+6-2
Fort+4 (+4 vs inhaled and contact poisons, +2 vs. disease)
Reflex+5
Will+2
Initiative+2
CMD = 18, 16 if flat footed
Mortimer quietly watches as the others boisterously express excitement about and explore the room. The hair on the back of his head stands up when the figure on the sarcophagus becomes animated and turns to Solrisa. He instinctively adopts a fighting stance, but then releases an enormous sigh of relief when the figure goes still again.
"Yep, this is the demons loop, and those look a lot like his horns."
Mortimer points to the horns and the long handled object with the loop looking as if he's about to say something, but instead shakes his head and resigns himself to silence.
"Those horns look, well, I wouldn't say exactly familiar, but I imagine they attach to some sort of extraplanar power."
He ponders this for a moment, then shakes his head in complete incomprehension -- at a loss as to what to even ask.
"What are those things? Horns?"
In amusement, he watches Sol pick up the horns and attempt to blow on the end of one of them. He then points to the bas-relief. "Maybe they're meant to be worn? Don't you have a dress or other garment that matches the tips?"
The horns are seen as nothing more than full thickness, quite heavy horns, albeit strangely colored. Imagined resting on wooden mounting stands, the horns would strike you as more than adequate trophies.
"Don't you have a dress or other garment that matches the tips?"
Sol smiles sweetly at Mort, her eyes looking upward as she searches the memory of her clothes.
"Oh no," Sol decides. "I don't wear many dresses...I have a few, but nothing this colored." Sol looks at her sister, holding up the black horns against her dark hair.
"Oh Rae, look!" Sol says as if her sister could see in a mirror. "These are perfect for you! They match really nicely! Maybe we could find a nice armorer to put them into a helm for you!? That would be fun, wouldn't it?"
Sol is still ready to return home, having solved the mystery and robbed the tomb.
”I think we should investigate deeper, but maybe after we identify this stuff and re-equip anything we might need. Might be that we come back in the morning. There’s a guy I want to talk to, Allustan. He might be able to help us - he’s a really smart guy.”
"Anyone want to join me?"
"I'll come with you Ascaria, but I don't think I've met Allustan"
"I would be pleased to accompany you, Master Gnome." This one has a mischievous look in his eye, as wont among Gnomes. But he is too useful to let him go running off by himself without some backup. That bladed pot might have killed the angry one if it weren't for this one's divine power.
Besides, it's always helpful to learn about knowledgeable or powerful folk in this Arch-Lord-forsaken berg. Her eyes brighten. And perhaps the Gnome is wrong, if those aren't demon horns, they might be a symbol of a much more trustworthy pact partner.
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AC 17, 21 on AoO; 26/26 HP
BAB = +3 (level 3)
ToHit = 1d20+6
RHit = 1d20+6-2
LHit = 1d20+6-2
Fort+4 (+4 vs inhaled and contact poisons, +2 vs. disease)
Reflex+5
Will+2
Initiative+2
CMD = 18, 16 if flat footed
"These are perfect for you! They match really nicely! Maybe we could find a nice armorer to put them into a helm for you!? That would be fun, wouldn't it."
Armorer?! Do they know any? She doesn't know? How could she NOT know where armor comes from?! Not that that could be done anyway...
No, no, Mort imagines responding while waving his hands dismissively. Don't mind me. I'll just stay busy over here being... invisible. Just call me "Alastor II"."Am I -- am I not nice Solrisa?", he asks, a hint of dejection in his tone.
"Anyone want to join me?"
"Taking a break might be good. I've some errands to run, but I can meet up with you somewhere afterwards."
"Am I -- am I not nice Solrisa?", he asks, a hint of dejection in his tone.
Sol looks at Mort, momentarily confused.
"Oh Mort, you're nice! I just didn't think you wanted to spend your time on things like this," Sol says with a cheery smile. "I just don't know if Rae would like something like this, is all. Rae has the bestest opinions ever about such things!"
Sol looks at Rae.
"Whatcha want to do with the horns, Rae? A neat helm to match your hair? Or maybe sell them?"
* * *
"Anyone want to join me?"
Sol smiles at the idea, clapping her hands.
"Ooh! This has been lots of fun, hasn't it Rae? I'll go!" Sol says clapping again, looking at Rae. "Oh, Rae! Can we go with Ascaria?! I'm sure it will be fun!"
As the gnome decides to pursue further inquiry back in Diamond Lake, several decide to join him in visiting the residence of Allustan. The walk down Company Road is peaceful enough, as the mines are still full and the sun is still high.
Wandering past the entrance to the Dourstone Mine, several guards mill about restlessly, calling up to their brother in a watchtower across from the office building.
The stroll around the hilltop of the Neff Manor brings the sun full bear, as the western descent is has barely begun. It's roughly 3 bells past noon, Fireday.
Assuming you stick to the main roads, Allustan's house sits on the end of the lane, on a slight rise.
The house stands out a bit, not only for its rise above the closer buildings, but also for the new coat of blue paint that brightens its exterior. A low stone wall fences in the property, with a garden adjacent to the house, complete with running fountain.
As you approach the gate of the low stone wall, you find it closed, with a sturdy drawbar latch on the inside of the wooden swing door.
AC 17, 21 on AoO; 26/26 HP
BAB = +3 (level 3)
ToHit = 1d20+6
RHit = 1d20+6-2
LHit = 1d20+6-2
Fort+4 (+4 vs inhaled and contact poisons, +2 vs. disease)
Reflex+5
Will+2
Initiative+2
CMD = 18, 16 if flat footed
As they approach Dourstone Mine, Mort notices the guards' stirrings, and it makes him slightly nervous. He tries to discern what their concern is, hoping it isn't the intrepid party's approach.
As (if) the party approaches the Square he announces, "I'll meet you at Lazare's. I'm heading there now, but I have another errand to run and will be back -- probably before you."
He wanders off into Lazare's.
If granted audience, after dispensing with the small talk he askes quite earnestly, "Lazare -- when you set me up with this group originally to find Meghen, you said you didn't just pick me to go with them for any reason. I'd like to know, if you don't mind -- why did you pick me exactly? Those ladies in particular don't seem to need any special "guarding". They seem quite capable of handling themselves."
"OK Mort, see you then!"
Ascaria walks up to the closed gate and stops. He pounds on the gate and calls out, "Allustan! Are you home? We'd like to hire you for some research please."
He waits, politely, at the gate and admires the fountain.
Sol waits with Ascaria at the gatestep.
"Ascaria? How do you know Allustan? Is he a wonderful gnome like you? Or different?" Sol waits, twirling one lock of her blonde braid while she waits.
Sol waits with Ascaria at the gatestep.
"Ascaria? How do you know Allustan? Is he a wonderful gnome like you? Or different?" Sol waits, twirling one lock of her blonde braid while she waits.
Ascaria looks up at Sol, "Oh, sorry, I don't know, er, him. Just by reputation. He should know stuff we don't - maybe he can help us, and maybe he can't, I dunno. But it's the only lead I've got as I can't seem to figure this stuff out on my own - and I was so sure about that loopy thing."
He shrugs and pounds on the gate again, trying to peer over it to he house.
"Should we go to the door? Or would that be rude? It's a lovely garden."
There is no response to Ascaria's beckoning or pounding. All save Mortimer wait at Allustan's gate. Two thrushes bicker at the fountain, one chasing the other off, ending the birdy dispute.
Watching the guards at a distance, you can just make out a guard on the ground, waving at the tower guard to toss him something. The tower guard shakes his head, and nothing falls from the tower.
Gaining Memorial Square, you catch sight of Rastophan, sitting on the Feral Dog's porch once more. He appears the same, except for a dark pair of smoke-tinted glasses resting squarely on his face, obscurely his eyes.
Entering Lazare's, you are greeted by Dannath, who in turn brings Lazare out of hiding from his office to attend to you personally. He greets you warmly enough, looking over your shoulder, possibly to make sure he's not ignoring someone hiding in your shadow.
""Lazare -- when you set me up with this group originally to find Meghan, you said you didn't just pick me to go with them for any reason. I'd like to know, if you don't mind -- why did you pick me exactly? Those ladies in particular don't seem to need any special "guarding". They seem quite capable of handling themselves."
Lazare raises an eyebrow at the question. "Numbers, for one, Mortimer. A search about town waters down numbers too quickly, and there are places in Diamond Lake where women are less safe, despite their martial ability. On first glance, the girls are not as... intimidating as you are. Sometimes, the first glance discourages second and third glances..." He looks up at you, looking to see if you understand.
AC 17, 21 on AoO; 26/26 HP
BAB = +3 (level 3)
ToHit = 1d20+7
RHit = 1d20+7-2
LHit = 1d20+7-2
Fort+4 (+4 vs inhaled and contact poisons, +2 vs. disease)
Reflex+5
Will+2
Initiative+2
CMD = 18, 16 if flat footed
Mortimer instantly recognizes the smoke colored glasses Rastophan is donning as those the grim sentry in Filge's bedchember
were previously wearing.
Uh, man -- what a jerk. They must have followed us? Anyone else talking about it? Who else knows? I better act dumb, here. Shouldn't be a problem if history is any guide...
He climbs the short stairs up to Lazare's two at a time, and nearly tears the door off of its hinges again...
"Oh -- uh. I see.", says Mortimer, looking over himself. "I'm not in the habit of thinking of myself that way -- I mean -- as intimidating, I guess. I uh. I'm glad it's just that, and just that."
He looks over his own shoulder back in the direction of Rastophan and The Feral Dog.
"So, any news around town?", he asks a little nervously -- hoping no one else has noticed a missing Necromancer and a trashed Observatory yet. "Have you seen Rastophan lately? What's with the shades? ' someone add color to his eye sockets, or is it just a new fashion statement, do you know? Maybe the broad daylight is too bright for him?"
"So, any news around town? Have you seen Rastophan lately? What's with the shades? ' someone add color to his eye sockets, or is it just a new fashion statement, do you know? Maybe the broad daylight is too bright for him?"
"Rastophan? Who's Rastophan? Can't say as I've had cause to note such things, as I've been kept busy with the House's day-to-day activities." Lazare studies you with a little more focus. "Is there anything you care to update me on? You seem a bit nervous about something."
Ascaria toes the dirt a bit, breaks out some chalk and considers drawing on the gate a little, but puts the chalk away.
He turns and looks to the tall folk for suggestions, and turns back to the gate blocking his view, and his path.
After what seems like an eternity, Ascaria reaches up, opens the gate, and scampers to the door of the building, careful to stay on the path, No knowing what sorts of things a wizard might have for the unwary.
He reaches up and pounds on the door as best he can. "Allustan?! Anyone home?"
AC 17, 21 on AoO; 26/26 HP
BAB = +3 (level 3)
ToHit = 1d20+7
RHit = 1d20+7-2
LHit = 1d20+7-2
Fort+4 (+4 vs inhaled and contact poisons, +2 vs. disease)
Reflex+5
Will+2
Initiative+2
CMD = 18, 16 if flat footed
"Rastophan? Who's Rastophan? Can't say as I've had cause to note such things, as I've been kept busy with the House's day-to-day activities."
Oh, right. Family man. What was I thinking? Damnit. I can't involve him. I was hoping he'd have ... better connections or know someone/something. Damnit.
He looks around the room and decides he's really not comfortable talking therein -- or at all really.
"You're right, Lazare. Sorry, I'm sorry," he shakes his head emphatically. "I can't really say, Lazare, sorry. You take care of yourself and your family. I may --" have made more than one colossal mistake--"have already taken up too much of your time, but thanks for taking some to speak with me."
He'll stick around if Lazare says anything, he will otherwise take his leave and head to Osgood's, ignoring Rastophan as best he can.
He thinks of it but doesn't bother trying to see if he's being followed.
They'll notice I've noticed if I try, assuming they haven't already noticed I've noticed...
Sol joins Ascaria at the door, adding a few more manhands of pounding. She even tries (but does not open) the door to see if it is locked.
If there is a window that Sol can peek into, she will.
"Its me, Sol! Are you there Allustan!?"
As Ascaria gains the small, wooden stoop of the front door, a stone frog on the corner of the porch croaks loudly. "BEEEEOOOORRROOOOCCCAAAA. For the last time, I do not wish you to cut my grass, buy your milk, or marry your daughter. Good Day. BEEEEOOOORRRROOOOCCCCAAAAA."
The frog has been gifted with a Magic Mouth.
The windows, although severely dirty, are the least of your obstruction. There are mountains of books, paperwork, boxes, crates, glassware, potted plants, taxidermied animals, clothes, furniture... For the brief time you look in, you see no movement.
A light shuffling behind the front window of the second story drifts down to you on the stoop. Turning your gaze upwards, you see a curtain still settling down.
"Whatcha want to do with the horns, Rae? A neat helm to match your hair? Or maybe sell them?"
* * *
Rae looks over the horns, then shakes her head. "I don't think they're really... me. If Mort wants them, he should wear them." It's not as if I killed whatever died for those horns."Anyone want to join me?"
"I was thinking we'd go home, grab something to..." Rae sighs and nods as Sol bounces around, ready to go. " Sure, I'll go."
***
Rae waits with the others, jumping a little as the frog begins to talk. "damned wizards and their trinkets."
"someone just peeked at us out the window up there". She mutters as she spots the movement of the curtains above.
Sol knocks on the door again.
"Allustan!!! I'm here!! It's me, Sol!!"
Ascaria thinks a moment.
"Allustan, we're not here to marry you off, or cut your lawn. We have some unusual relics we dug up from a mine and wanted you to identify them."
He steps back so he can be seen from the window, holds up the box with the alien writing, opens it, and pulls out the loop, then puts it back in and closes the box.
"Interested?"
AC 17, 21 on AoO; 26/26 HP
BAB = +3 (level 3)
ToHit = 1d20+7
RHit = 1d20+7-2
LHit = 1d20+7-2
Fort+4 (+4 vs inhaled and contact poisons, +2 vs. disease)
Reflex+5
Will+2
Initiative+2
CMD = 18, 16 if flat footed
As nonchalantly as possible, Mortimer causually makes his way down The Vein to Osgood's.
Those guards as we approached -- were they trying readying to attack us over the observatory? If so, why were they waved off? Will we be able to leave, or are we just going to be followed for the time being?
I should warn the others, it's likely they were followed as well, but maybe not? It's probably harder for them to track us now that we're split up? Hopefully they're just following me... If I stay separate, maybe I can stay free long enough to help them out.
I wonder if Manlin has heard anything...
As he enters the smithy, he takes up his station as a ruse to anyone who might be following him and awaits Osgood.
A moment of quiet, then the sound of deliberate steps down stairs can be heard, right before the front door opens, and a bespectacled older man peers out at the group. He looks down the hill for a moment, then back to the gnome.
"'Interested'? You barely gave me a proper look, what with me all the way upstairs from a second story window." The older man taps a dark blue wand in consideration. "You don't look like miners. Miners bring me 'relics' all the time. They're all giddy with greed, and I'm the one to burst their bubble when I tell them they've found petrified duck eggs..." Allustan considers for a moment.
"Alright then. Show me what it is you've come to show me, so we can be done here." Only now does the light scent of cat urine find its way to your nostrils.
The stone frog speaks once again. "LEAVE!!!" Allustan waves the frog off as if it's attentive to his gesture. "Don't mind it, now. Come, show me."
Arriving without event at Osgood's, you're welcomed in typical fashion.
"Looky here! Last day of the work week, and he finally decides to show up for his drink money!" Wyon feigns a beer stein, and phantom toasts you as you cross smithy floor. Manlin sits in the front room, hands freshly washed, as he works through his paperwork. He looks up to consider you, a light look of disdain touching his brows. He says nothing, and continues to eyeball you for a moment, before returning to his paperwork.
Sol smiles brightly as the door opens.
"Hi," Sol says cheerfully. "We found this in this place where you could walk on air! It was neat!" Sol turns to Rae. "Tell him, Rae! Tell him how we walked on air!"
AC 17, 21 on AoO; 26/26 HP
BAB = +3 (level 3)
ToHit = 1d20+7
RHit = 1d20+7-2
LHit = 1d20+7-2
Fort+4 (+4 vs inhaled and contact poisons, +2 vs. disease)
Reflex+5
Will+2
Initiative+2
CMD = 18, 16 if flat footed
Round, Init
"Looky here! Last day of the work week, and he finally decides to show up for his drink money!"
With a mouth like that, one wonders why he even bothers with the bellows.
Ignoring Wyon and noting Manlin's look of disdain, Mortimer humbly approaches Manlin to talk privately.
"Uh, about that -- forego my pay for this week. I've gotten myself into a bit of a situation of which I seem to be unable to let go -- at least for the time being. When it's done, I'd like to make it up to you and the Smithy if possible. I'll do whatever you need."
"Sol, Rae some others and I came across those iron balls trying to investigate and find a missing child -- I'd like to try and track down where they come from -- who made them for one thing. I hope it won't take too long. Who knows? Maybe I can find a new and better material for us to use. What's the market look like now, anyway?"
Sol smiles brightly as the door opens.
"Hi," Sol says cheerfully. "We found this in this place where you could walk on air! It was neat!" Sol turns to Rae. "Tell him, Rae! Tell him how we walked on air!"
"I think you covered it well enough, Sol. We walked on air, like kites."
Allustan looks on Solrisa with a smile, then Raella, then turns back to the box, well, the gnome holding the box, of course. "Where have you all been that would yield relics and walking on air? Is it located within the valley? How did you chance upon this place?" His open hand begins to subconsciously beckon the box still in the gnome's hands.
"Where are your manners? You have my name, but I'm afraid I'm at a loss for you all. How may I address you?" He turns to each of you, then brings his gaze full 'round to the box, uh, gnome.
"Uh, about that -- forego my pay for this week. I've gotten myself into a bit of a situation of which I seem to be unable to let go -- at least for the time being. When it's done, I'd like to make it up to you and the Smithy if possible. I'll do whatever you need."
"Sol, Rae some others and I came across those iron balls trying to investigate and find a missing child -- I'd like to try and track down where they come from -- who made them for one thing. I hope it won't take too long. Who knows? Maybe I can find a new and better material for us to use. What's the market look like now, anyway?"
Manlin settles his papers onto the desk in a light stack, and listens directly to you as you elaborate. "A situation, you say? What kind of situation? I'll not have you bringing your troubles into the Smithy, Mort. What is it? Gambling in the Emporium? You taking work with a Mine Manager? The folk you're running with, the girls, the, oh, hey, is it that owlbear you brought back with you? Did it get you into trouble?" He looks concerned for you, possibly about you.
"Ah, is it the iron then? You didn't... relieve someone of those balls, did you? Can't be working with stolen goods, Mort, you know me better than that. It looked like good iron, but I'd have to melt it down to see what it's really worth."