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Duante nods. "I vote we go talk to the sherrif, now that we know there's been an influx in the population. Like the lady says, maybe we'll get lucky and learn about an overtly aggressive, large, hairy factory worker who coincidentally disappears around the night of a full moon."

"Oh, I'm not terrified, really" the girl protests. "I just have a speech pr-problem. But I'm g-glad you'll follow me regrardless." She leads the group out of Jim's shop, and to the large building across the street; A four-storied mansion that had seen obvious expansion on its sides to fill up...

"I-I didn't mean it like that," the girl assures Buri, her cheeks going red with embarassment. "What I meant t-to say is that if you're worried about b-being hurt, I promise my mistress will do you no ph-physical harm." "I-it would just take a few moments of your time, and is very nearby...

"I'd rather not answer that here," the woman replied frankly. "You wouldn't know her name anyhow, she tends to stay out of public sight. B-but if you're worried for your safety, all of you should come. She can't kill you all before at least some of you get away, could she? I-If she meant to...

The girl studies Dorian with cool green eyes for a moment, before speaking. "My m-mistress would like to speak with you," she said, "A-all of you, if it pleases."

Following Professor Delamara's instructions, Forge drew a stoppered vial from his robes and added the ingredients to it. The brew within the container boiled and swirled as it reacted and let off a slightly unpleasant, musky odour. If Forge's alchemy classes were any indication, it would be...

Daunte frowns, crossing his arms while tapping at his upper lip absently. "Well, looks like we just widened the net," he sighs. "I suggest we go get the background on these people and then start sorting through the ones most likely to have come here by way of bear country. Sound good?"

The elderly halfling was obviously upset, but Buri could discern no ulterior motive. Jim scoffs at Forge's words, unbelieving for a moment, but there must be something in the Dwarf's face that hints of truth for he nods sagely and gives him a wry smile. "So, you're the one, eh? Perhaps one...

ooc: We can continue this discussion here.

Good question, I'll email him. I seem to remember him saying that he'd be unable to post for a while a month or so ago, but it can't hurt to make sure, can it?

"Makes as no difference to me," Jim says with a shrug, suddenly irritable. "What do I look like, Master of the Guard? Of course the guard is investigating him, that's why he hasn't lost his head yet. But make no mistake, a murderer is a murderer, no matter who he may be."

"Couple of local boys caught him dumping the body of his eighth victim in the Westering," Jim explains. "One of the brave lads yelled for the guards, while the other tracked him to his hideout, leading the guards back once they arrived. As for who he is, he's a murdering orcish brute, that's who!"

"You must've been living under a rock if you haven't heard. The gossip's all over the streets, and it's even been news in the Tidings," Jim crows, waving his walking stick at Buri. "Well, yet another telling of the story won't hurt anyone. There's been a string of murders over the last two...

"Yes, the institute keeps us busy," Daunte added, throwing a sideways look at John. It was hard for Daunte to understand, but his friend really seemed to love books. And while Daunte didn't mind reading - he was training to be a lawyer after all - he didn't understand how someone would...

Jim gives the pair a satisfied grin. "Well then, Ol' Jim'll be happy to do business with you lot in the near future. Look, don't be strangers, I'm getting on in years and I'm not as quick as I used to be, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy the company you know. And you should be careful when...

Jim smiles pleasantly at Miriah as he walks over to a halfling-sized desk, crowded with ledgers of all sorts. "I'm always on the look out for new merchandise, miss. Wonders of the like you've had your eye on don't move quite so quick as, say, a love potion or healing salve. According to the...

"Point," Daunte concedes, raising a single eyebrow in realization. "Yikes. As if the dating scene wasn't rough enough these days, you gotta watch out for supernatural STDs."

"Davis mentioned that registered lycanthropes aren't allowed to give blood, so I'm guessing that's at least a factor," Daunte reminded the others, rubbing the back of his neck and pacing slowly as he mulled things over in his mind. "Which means if the theoretical child is hers, it could have...

There was some rustling and creaking from the back, and then Jim emerged from the back room, toting a package bundled in brown sackcloth and wrapped in string. "Well, here you go young man," the storekeep said brightly, handing the package over to Forge. "That'll be a single gold crown." Then...

"Let's not get too jumpy here," Daunte tells the others. "Maybe it's not her kid. Maybe it's her kid sister, or her nephew, or whatever. Or maybe they're her toys. And either way, Lisa's right. There shouldn't be anything to worry about. She's ex-Hoffman, right?"