The shop is housed in a nice old townhouse made of carved stone. The first floor has a large shop window, the upper floors has high windows with curtains, that suggest someone is living there.
The shop part has some simple stuff and furniture, or generally big items that can't be pick-pocketed in the show room. Then there is a counter, separated from the rest of the room by steel bars and behind that works a woman in front of a showcase covering the whole wall with the more valuable items on display. An iron door with several locks would allow to leave the cage to the left. As well as a normal sturdy wooden door the woman could leave towards the back.
There is jewelry on display, as well as expertly made weapons. Golden trinkets, expensive kids toys. You probably could find everything here, if it is worth at least a gold.
The woman greets the potential customer with a surprisingly low voice. "Good morning." she puts aside the quill and closes the book. "Are you looking to buy or to pawn?"
"Good morning." Faerveren replies. She takes in the surroundings and searches if she sees something that would match the scarce furnishing of Persephone's house.
"I'm told using your services is stepping on a slippery slope. If I understood it right, I'd start pawning stuff to you and end up selling my booty at the temple over there. So for now, I'll refrain from pawning."
"I'm just looking for some items someone who hit the bottom of that slope exchanged for coin. Silverware, furniture, trinkets from the shop. Either sold, or pawned by Mrs. Pembrooke. From what I heard, not at your shop, but by a guy who fetched the items directly at the house. Maybe one of your competition? Or a colleague? Anyway, if there are some items to be found I'm interested in buying."
"You got any lead on that?"
"Oh, no! Another gullible victim lost for my scheming."
"But with your very specific request I could still take you to the cleaner."
"This wasn't a recent event and if you still have items, they are dead stock by now. I'm sure we would be able to agree on a reasonable price to make everyone happy."
"There is one item though, where you'd be at an unfair advantage. A painting. A family portrait, originally in a gilded frame. Totally worthless to anyone else, but of priceless sentimental value for someone. And I need a nice birthday gift for that someone. So what do you have?"
"Say goodbye to the silverware. That would be long gone. If you see some furniture here, you're welcome to buy."
"About that painting. What are you willing to pay?"
"I'm not sure. I haven't seen it, don't know the size. But I know what it costs to have a portrait painted. So I guess somewhere around 50 gold."
"Hmmm." Ivanja ponders the offer. "For that amount I can check in my storage if I have something like that. Can't remember right now. Maybe come back in two days? I should know until them."
"Ok. See you then." Faerveren steps out and takes a walk, checking if the house has some back entrances.
"So far this is the most action and commerce we have seen. Worth pursuing further I think."
"True, but the wealth seems to be concentrated in old money and the Marinelli of new wealth."
"And the council retains power for the old money. I wonder how much power they have and what it can affect. I must learn more about this council as well."
At the back of the pawn shop is a narrow alley, about three feet wide. Just enough for the water from the roofs to run along in case of rain. Most houses don't have windows, nor doors to this alley. But of course the pawn shop has a door. A thick door made of oak reinforced with steel hinges and a high quality lock. But it also has no windows here, neither on the first, nor the second floor.
Faerveren looks up and down the alley, to ensure no one sees her and then climbs the roof of the opposite house to watch from there.
Persephone continues to enter the data from the delivery lists into the books. Input lists are no problem, as it is simply transcribing the lists into the books. The issues arise when outgoing lists have items that are not in the books, or items are left in the books after a customer claimed all the items belonging to them.
Persephone approaches Gorm. "I have an item left in this book. I checked in the warehouse and it doesn't seem to be there anymore. But it is not on this list. What shall I do with it?"
"Let me see." Gorm takes a look himself checking the whole list for the item. "This is infuriating. Again!"
"You strike it out with red ink and put it in the red book there on the shelf. That is the book of items lost. And if you ever find an item on any list, that isn't in the books anymore, you look there."
"Out of curiosity... who was that man with the two others accompanying him. Should I know him?"
Gorm stares at Persephone.
"That's a Marinelli. Stay out of his way." He stares some more, without blinking.
"Get back to work."
As the work day comes to an end the pawn shop is closed. Madame Ivanja leaves the shop through the back door. She locks it and leaves.
Faerveren notices the noise of the door closing as well as the familiar clicks of a lock turning. Checking the direction the woman is walking, she follows on the roof. She stays out of sight and only checks, when there is a fork or crossing in the way.
The roofs to walk on end at the next cross road. And the streets are not very busy anymore, making any attempt to follow blatantly obvious.
Madame Ivanja walks in direction to the center of town to the marketplace and across.
Faerveren waits until the woman is out of sight and climbs down the wall. then she hurries to catch up, but stay out of sight.
Madame Ivanja gets the feeling she is being followed. After a corner in an alley where the long shadows of the houses give some cover she steps into an entrance, hiding.
Fudgepudding she thinks. Faerveren turns her gaze quickly to the end of the road and walks on.
Madame Ivanja steps back into the street. "So you're stalking me."
Faerveren throws her hands in the air. "Seriously?"
She turns around. "If you know the game, you could at least act your part. You're supposed to be blissfully ignorant of that."
"But I feel generous. I'll give you another chance." With that she turns again, runs to the end of the alley, around the corner and climbs up on a house again.
"What the ..." Madame Ivanja is at a loss of words.
She follows to the corner and looks around.
"Show yourself. I know you're there."
No, I'm not. Faerveren plays dead on the roof.
"Menan, let's check on that blacksmith and see how my rapier is coming along. Do you think he is finished yet?"
"Certainly, Arawyn."
The two make their way to the prosperous side of town and seek out the blacksmith.
Confronted with the question if the blade is ready he starts laughing. "That's a good one." Seeing Menan not laughing he stops. "You were serious? Let me laugh even harder." laughing tears the dwarf continues the work.
After a while he adds "Ye come back on Sunday."
Menan chuckles with the dwarf's comments. "We shall be here Sunday. I fact, I am the entertainer. Or, more precisely the entertainment. A magic show. It will be embarrassing but entertainers can garnish celebrity status. We shall see. 'till Sunday, Torbin."
"Torbin, if you can make that thing reflect my agility you will get a big ole cheek kiss in addition to Menan's coin. See you Sunday."
The two head to their quarters.
"Grow a beard first." Torbin suggests to Arawyn.
Arawyn blushes as she recalls female dwarves and their facial hair. "Talented and picky."
Ivanja stands at the crossing looking around for a while.
Then she shrugs and leaves. Maybe she is gone? But she still keeps an eye and an ear out to make sure she isn't followed anymore.
Faerveren listens intently, where the woman is going. Following won't work now. She'd for sure notice. But there is one chance.
She takes out her disguise kit, some change clothes and works on her appearance.
After she is done, she climbs down from the roof in a way no one notices and then simply walks in the general direction the woman moved to.
There is no trace of Ivanja as she is long gone, once Faerveren is done with her disguise. The general direction leads to the docks.
There a few dockworkers that are still hauling coal, but the most warehouses are closing up. The ladies come out and take over the harbor-esplanade teasing the sailors to leave some of their coin with them.
Faerveren adjusts her dress to show more leg and puts on some red lipstick to fit in. She'd show more cleavage, but for one, she is an half elf, so there is only a limited amount to show, and second, her chain shirt has no buttons that one could open.
Believing she doesn't stick out too much, she walks along the houses looking out, if the woman from the pawn shop can be spotted somewhere. To that extent she enters the establishments on the way and orders an ale at the bar in each of them.
Madame Ivanja is nowhere seen. The ladies on the street ogle Faerveren with suspicion.
The ale served is of the cheap kind, both in taste and price. At the Blue Marlin some unshaved, unwashed lad who had quite a few ales already accosts her. "How about ya leave with me? Earn a coin and have me shakin' yer bacon."
Faerveren sighs. That was to be expected. But that stinking troll?
She turns to the guy with her sweetest smile. "I don't think your coins have the right color to get my attention."
The guy looks confused. After a while the penny drops. "Hey!" He tumbles back and points his finger at Faerveren. "You!"
"Filthy elf! I'll show you what you're worth." He reaches into his pocket, pulls out three copper and throws them at Faerveren. He unbuttuns his pants and demands "Now suck my"
But the man is interrupted by a thug, who grabs him at the neck from behind putting him in a headlock. "Ma'm. Is this dude causing you trouble?"
"I wouldn't call it that. But his smell is bad enough without him opening his pants. Thanks for saving the bar form that."
Faerveren picks the copper off her clothes and the floor. "He left just enough coin for an ale. That's your's once you have your hands free again."
"That's not how this works. You seem to be new here so let me explain. If you do business at the docks, you pay us a fair share, and we take care of the scum." the thug explains.
"Interesting." Faerveren replies, and doesn't return to her mug of ale. "Who is we, and what is a fair share?"
The bar falls silent and watches with interest what is going on. "We are those who oversee the business here. And we take two silver for our service."
"Nah, I'm just drinking my ale here, I'm good." Faerveren replies and turns to her mug on the bar. She looks out for a mirror, a window, or something reflecting, where she can keep an eye on what is happening behind her.
"Your choice." the thug answers and releases the man.
The man grins. "I'll show you, you filthy b%+%@."
He stumbles forward and tries to grab Faerveren at her hair.
Faerveren steps aside and lets him run into the bar. Taking a step back she kicks him in the balls.