Master departs soon Morde flies off his perch and onto Tiasars shoulder as he exits, and can't help looking at the large-scarred-lion-man again. After a minute he flies to Hrolf's shoulder and looks curiously at him
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As the group makes their trek to the temple, in between stops to gather information, Hrolf takes a moment to address the other Pathfinders.
"I do not know how long any of you have been here in Absalom but I wanted to make some things clear. This city has a natural order to it, one that the Pathfinder Society has to respect and we, by extension, must respect as well. Part of that includes how we handle physical threats."
"I enjoy a good scrap as much as the next Ulfen, but it is important that should a fight break out in the streets, and we're a part of it, that we not butcher anyone."
The northman's eyes rest on Jake and his large sword as he finishes the last part.
"The Society can't have anymore bodies showing up on its doorsteps."
Gather Information results for Hrolf and Ryster:
Rystar and Hrolf stop and talk to various street merchants and are easily able to pick up directions to where Rialla's shop is.
Just as Torch's letter noted, her shop is directly across from the always-busy Cayden's Hall. The brick building is fronted by two large, many-paned glass windows and a large sign that reads, “Mercantile, Curiosities, Unique Items, and Magic—Bought and Sold Within.”
Inside the store, the shelves are lined with all manner of goods, crafts, and artwork both domestic and foreign. A female halfling clerk sits on a large stool behind a human-sized countertop. As the sound of footsteps grow more abundant in the shop, the woman looks up with widening eyes and a growing smile.
"Welcome welcome welcome! The name's Rialla, feel free to take a look around! You all look big and scary, are you... Ohmygosh, ARE YOU PATHFINDERS!?" she proclaims with a squeal.
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Jake nods to the large Ulfen, then chuckles at the words of Iolande before they arrive at the Hall.
So long as Justice is being served, I will not forecefully intervene. However, if the freedoms of anyone are in jeopardy, then blood will flow to avenge the ideals of liberty.
Upon approaching Cayden's Hall, Jake greets the Halfling.
Please excuse our rather abrupt appearance. We mean you no harm, and we beg your pardon for any inconvenience. It is simply information we seek.
He steps aside, and gestures at the group in hopes that someone with more of a silvered tongue will raise the appropriate queries.
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"I agree," Daimonji simply states to Hrolf's suggestion. Including the part about enjoying a good scrap, though that goes unstated. He casts a slight annoyed glance to Jake's verbose answer, but says no more.
As they enter the store, he takes a second to look around for anything interested before he even notices the tiny woman. "Yup," he proclaims with a nod, pointing to the Wayfinder strapped to his belt.
Looking around the small circular shop, you can plainly tell that she carries very minor magical items - potions, scrolls, wands and the such. However, they all seem a bit... different, than you'd expect. A small handful of potions on display are pink in color and have colorful frilly ribbons attached to them.
She pushes her tiny glasses all the way onto her nose.
"Oooh, you must be here to investigate the mugging! Eeee! This is so exciting, real Pathfinders here in the store!"
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The red man raises an eyebrow as he checks the merchandise. Weird.
"Yup," Daimonji states again with a nod. Guess we're pretty conspicuous. Especially me. Though... that gives him an idea. He sneaks a word to that annoying wizard.
He lets Hrolf or one of the others handle the actual conversation-making with the shopkeeper while he observes as they talk, trying to assert if she's lying or not telling them the whole story.
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Hrolf greets the cheery woman pleasantly. The Ulfen knew that many southern women found his people ruggedly attractive. He had no problem exploiting that.
It is nature that females favor the most worthy mates.
"Greetings Rialla. You are right - we are Pathfinders and we are here investigating the attack on one of our own. We were told you were witness and might be willing to share what you saw with us."
The big Ulfen leaned forward on the counter and spoke in a low deep tone.
"The Society remembers those that lend aid."
"What do you remember from the day of the attack?"
The halfing quickly hops down from her stool and runs over to a spot just a few feet to the left of the door.
Barleyhusk’s excitement is palpable, and she rambles everything in one long, breathless speech.
“That poor man you asked about who was attacked, he looked a right mess, he had an arrow in his side, and he could barely walk. I sat him down and started to bandage him up. Then all of a sudden the Graycloak was there and asked if I had a potion to fix him up. I said I could patch him right up because I took a class from Berntuck’s Fine School of First Aid. That Graycloak gave me the nastiest look and said the Graycloaks would pay full price for the potion. Well, I knew the master had some peppermint-flavored healing potions that weren’t selling very well, so I ran back to get the potions and before I could even get to them, I hear the injured fellow gasp really loud. ‘Hurry!’ the bossy Graycloak said, so I ran back as fast as I could, but when I got there, he was already dead.”
The halfling quietly sobers up as she finishes her story, and walks back behind the counter and climbs onto her stool.
“I was too slow.”
"You may call me Morde" he whispers in the tieflings ear. Morde flies outside, taking a perch on the room of the building and scouting
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Ryster pauses from looking around the store and looks at the halfling. What kind of merchandise do you deal in? Had any of the stolen artifacts moved through your shop? Have you ever seen a staff head in the shape of a beetle? If not, do you know someone who would deal in these types of objects? Ryster finally stops to take a breath and smile at the halfling.
The excitement from the halfling's face seems to have disappeared after recounting her tale.
"I don't have the arrow, I'm sorry," she says morosely to Hrolf and Jake. "The Graycloak? I don't remember much, just that she was a tall, dark woman. That's all."
Rialla's eyes stay focused on the ground, her expression turning more dour.
"Sorry, never heard of a staff like that," she tells Ryster.
Still not looking up at anyone, she nods her head up and down.
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While still smiling and heading towards the door with the Ulfen, Jake stops in his tracks, his visage turns stern, and he turns quickly on his heel, and in three quick strides he leers down at the halfling, menancingly.
I get the distinct impression that you may not be telling us everything. I suggest that you speak up now, or our next visit will not be so pleasant.
Intimidate:
Her eyes quickly dart up to meet Jake's, and the look of regret instantly washes over her face.
"I'm sorry, I... I wasn't sure I should say anything. According to what I learned from Berntuck, an injury like that shouldn’t have killed your friend so quickly. Berntuck said gut wounds are a long slow death. I’m not sure what happened. I meant to ask the Graycloak about it, but by the time I thought to ask her, she was already gone. That's all I know, I promise."
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Ahhhh...I see. You will have no trouble from us. It is obvious that an injustice has been perpetrated, but not by any fault of yours. I am ready to proceed to the next witness when you all are. We need to keep an eye out for this female Graycloak, who may indeed be a murderer and have some involvement with the theft of these items.
Jake steps out of the shop with a wink to Beastheart. He waits just inside the door with arms crossed and leaning casually up against the wall of the shop.
As the party begins walking out the door, Rialla runs to catch up to you and with a big smile, asks, "Would any of you be interested in buying one of our peppermint healing potions before you go? Curative AND delicious! What'cha say?"
As you all leave from the magic shop and begin heading to Erastil's Alehouse, you realize that the God's Market is a fairly dense area of Absalom, with more people, buildings and vendors than one would think possible. In order to not get lost, you'll definitely have to rely on your memory of the city, or the directions of strangers, to get you to your next destination.
After a bit of discussion with a few locals, Hrolf is able to get very clear directions to Erastil's Alehouse.
About 10 minutes pass, and the party turns on to a fairly empty street. The brewery is close. Based on your directions, it should be just a bit further.