Zar nods in agreement to Jarprax's comment on how much to tell the kid. He has been quietly observing, trying to determine how much they can trust the urchin.
"You have? When? We are looking for a woman with one arm. You can bring us the information you find to us at the caravan company," he says.
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Aw, it weren't but a month ago. 'ee 'eaded out the East gate. Ain't seen 'im return, Rendall nods his head, On it, boss. Where you going ta be in, say an hour?
He looks apologetically at Jiro, Ain't no way I can get you proper infermation in quarter bell, sir.
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EDIT: After you figure out a place, he runs off!
"Someone mentioned that she could go with a caravan, safety in numbers and all."
If everyone agrees we head to the caravan.
Having wandered off when her nose picked up the smell of fresh made sweet rolls, Shaldinari returns to the group sinking her teeth into the still warm, sugar and cinnamon coated roll purchased from the little stall just up the street.
Too busy enjoying the sweet treat to really comment, she simply nods at the suggestion to look into the caravan company and lets the paladin lead the way.
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Wagons line the eastern end of Melvaunt’s market. Workers load and unload crates onto carts, dollies, and even other wagons. When you enter the unremarkable two-story wooden building that serves as an office for Brental’s Caravan Company, you discover things are equally as busy. The space inside is broken into two distinct areas. Near the front of the large room, road-worn men and women with weapons at their belts gather around small tables laughing and smoking pipeweed. A long counter occupies the room’s rear wall, where well-dressed merchants look over ledgers and carry on discussions with several workers bearing ink-stained hands. From a stool at the corner of the counter, a stout half-orc with thinning white hair and spectacles keeps a watch over all their dealings.
As you approach, the half-orc looks you up and down, Looking fer work?
Jarprax steps forward, raising a hand in greeting: "Not this time, Brental. We're looking for someone - a one-armed woman. She might have rented a carriage, or possibly has tagged along with one of your caravans. That aimra'at mutahawira ran off without her protection," gesturing to indicate the group.
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Oh damn, it's Jar! Didn't recognize you! Yeah, a woman fitting that description came by late this morning. You know that if she had signed a contract, I would have been bound, but as she hadn't, I got no qualms telling ya that she was asking about caravans and coaches bound fer Hillsfar.
He scratches his head a bit, Ya know, I wasn't sure if she was askin' fer work or a ride. On account of her missin' arm, I kinda assumed the latter. Ain't seen her since. Why'd she give you all the slip? If ya don't mind me askin'?
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As you are asking Gurm (the half-orc) questions, a dwarf lass, with chestnut brown hair in thick braids down her back, and a thicker dwarvish brogue approaches Antonio, Ach, ye or y' Dragonfolk pally fancy an arm tussle? Big boy Kroth ain't been beat, and I'd like ta see 'im taken down peg, ya know? What do ye say?
Smiling at the lady dwarf. "There was a time, not long ago, that I would have jumped at the challenge. But since I have taken my vows, my simple pride must be set aside. I can not speak for my dragon friend, but I will be happy to ask. But just to let you know we have more pressing matters at this time."
Then thinking about it, and knowing how Mother Homwell like the sport.
"But since you are asking, did a one armed woman take him up on this challenge not long ago?"
"Do you know where she might have go to by any chance?"
Antonio starts to stretch out his shoulder.
"If you help us out, I might be able to help you out, since that would fall as part of the mission I am on. And sorry for my poor manors. My name is Antonio. And you would be?"
Smiling to the lady.
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The lass grins broadly, Brenna Stoneslammer. I wish I could tell ye, but I know not.
She turns and starts back to the crowd gathered, only stopping to say, If'n ye want t' test yerself, we'll be here... and maybe if I hear anything I might share it with ye.
With a wink, she is gone, disappearing into the crowd.
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Shaldinari pops the last bit of roll into her mouth just as she hears a soft gurgle off to her right. Licking the sticky icing from her fingers, she looks around for the source only to see Blacklock standing there muttering about cats. She rolls her eyes theatrically.
"Right...and I bet someone stepped on a bullfrog when we were back there at the stables." She says drolly shaking her head at the thief. Flipping her gaze on Jiro and the others, she calls out. "Okay. Who's turn was it to feed Blacklock? Jiro, I'm pretty sure it's you. Just remember, nothing spicy else you're changing his nappies." She wrinkles her nose as if being assaulted by the odor of a hundred sewer goblins. "Gods know we don't need another repeat of yesterday's symphony of odoriferous horrors."
"Why'd she give you all the slip?"
Jarprax growls: "Delusions of grandeur, as far as I can tell."
Then, letting out a long slow hiss (what amounts to a sigh): "Well, thanks, Brent. It sounds like you didn't have anyone going that way. Any ideas who might have been heading to Hillsfar?"
"Could be she's headed for Hillsfar, could be she's laying down false trails to confuse anyone following her. Either way, she was here this morning, so we should be able to catch her if we can figure out where she went."
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As you all find yourselves a table, and Antonio mentions Brenna Stoneslammer's proposal to Jarprax, piquing the draconic priest's interest. The daughter of clan Stoneslammer perks up at Jarprax' offer to step up to the champion and immediately sets to the task of working up the crowd and the sharper-eyed of you notice coin beginning to change hands and a gambling opportunity presents itself.
Kroth, a large human of Uthgardt northman stock, looks across the table at the dragonborn and smiles menacingly, setting his elbow in a small worn divot on his side. Jarprax notes a similar sunken pit on his side of the table, soon the contest of strength begins!
Jarprax matches the human's menacing grin with one of his own - Jarprax has many more teeth, and they're sharper... As he sits down, he slaps 2gp on the table next to him - a wager for anyone who chooses to match it.
"Good match Jarprax, well done."
Antonio slaps Jarprax hard on the back. Much like how he does to the rest of us.
Jarprax's grin only widens as Kroth stands. Remaining seated, he looks to the crowd: "Who's next?"
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Jarprax peers into the soul of the big man, and unbeknownst to all spectators, sees the smile in the big man's eyes a mere moments before he erupts in a bellow of raucous laughter!
The Uthgardt man extends his hand, grasping Jarprax in a warrior's handshake, pulling him in for a crushing hug!
Soon, the din of the room returns and the mood lightens up.
Blacklock notices the door open, and a familiar red-headed boy enters, scans the room and begins approaching you with some haste, his face a mask of seriousness. He is about 20 minutes earlier than the hour that he set for himself.
I gots a bit o' tatt, ya needs ta hear.
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Assuming, one or more of you head to an isolated corner, where there is a bit of privacy, Rendall gives you the rundown. Late last night, a dark priest entered town, running by the name of Tarmin Gald, and he had a gaggle of followers with him. He wouldn't have put anything on that, except that they were asking for a one-armed woman as well.
Shortly before Rendall left you at the Stables, one of the other boys snatch her from the city market and he followed her to an abandoned warehouse between the docks and the shipyard.
Rendall knows the area fairly well, and is pretty sure that he knows which warehouse his friend referred to.
"Haha! Hurrah!" Shaldinari shouts while slapping her hand against her thigh when Jarprax wrestles the big Uthgardt's arm to the table. Unexpectedly caught up in the match, she flashes a congratulatory grin at the burly dragonborn and nods with approval as the crowd other wrestler accepts his loss with grace and honor.
Before she can say much more, she sees the boy from earlier slip into the tavern and goes with the others to see what he has to share.
Her carefree mood disappears quickly as she realizes how dire the lads tidings appear to be. She only hoped they could reach this warehouse in time. She really didn't want to have to tell her Queen those discs had managed to escape back into the hands of Bane's priests because she'd been outwitted by an old woman.
"We need to get to that warehouse fast." She says her eyes gleaming with anger and concern.
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The change in Shaldinari is abrupt as soon as she sees the boy. Signalling the others, you all head out toward the warehouse with all haste. The trip takes less than 20 minutes, and once you arrive, Rendall hangs back in an alleyway.
Taking a quick assessment, you can easily see the front doors that seem to be closed and have a thuggish-looking man leaning nearby. The back doors to the South seem to be chained.
"If you can be quite about it and can get that lock open, go for it. I can try and distract him at the front. How much time will you need."
Whispers Antonio back to Blacklock.
"I can try charming the guard," Jiro flashes a pointy-toothed grin. "Might be able to help us with some info, too, of how many we might face. Or just make him take a nap," he shrugs.
"Go for it, My plan was to just walk up to him and talk about Torm to him. If he is a Baneite, well, he will be taking a nap anyway." Smiles Antonio.
Zar listens to the back and forth of the group deciding how to proceed.
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Lets have a group Stealth check...
BAAAhhhaa...
Antonio says a quite prayer to Torm for guidance. And slowing makes his way. Cringing every time his armor creeks.