Graciously accepting all of the offered assistance, the young woman seemed to be getting a hold of her emotions. She even allowed a brief smile to cross her lips as the novice priest of Darien introduced himself. Undoubtedly, she felt strong comfort knowing that a man of the temple was going to be helping in their search. In answer to the various questions and questioning looks regarding the details she said, "Business has been fairly good in recent months and Father thought that reinvesting the profits was a wise move. To that end he purchased a little used, and somewhat run down, warehouse in lower Jalston. He was supervising the renovation, and taking in the first cargo to be stored in the better section, when he was last seen."
"I didn't ask too many people for more details because most of those folks he has working for him are from 'The Dives' and while they labor for low wages, I don't trust most of them. I hurried here to see if Jack would help me without doing much more than looking around at the warehouse and that tavern, 'The Gull's Lament" where my Father sometimes drinks. Perhaps you will be able to find out more than I since there are more of you and the types of people you'll need to question won't be treating you like they dare treat me."
After the Blacksmith's son gathered his gear, the group headed toward the last known location of Ponulia's father. Although he had suggested that she stay behind, she insisted that she go as far as the warehouse to point things out, if need be, and be on hand should they find him quickly. Haggerty summed the situation up fairly well to his compatriots as they moved through the town following the desperate young woman, both in regard to the chandler's proclivity to drink and the town guard's general disinterest in anything not lining their pockets. Moving ahead of the group, oblivious to their various hushed exchanges, Ponulia paused briefly as they passed 'The Chubby Chandler", the shop where her father and she pied their daily trade. After a moment of reflection, she led onward.
As they passed the Temple of Darien, Danmor inquired if he'd have time to stop and grab his gear. Not wishing to put those coming to her aid into danger unprepared, Ponulia made no objection but encouraged the young Priest to make haste. Danmor found that his brethren were so engrossed in other duties he could easily accomplish the task with no hindrance and the party proceeded on their way. As they waited out side the temple, they had the chance to look around this section of town.
The Bazaar was in full swing outside the northern most wall of the main keep as many merchants pushed wares from outside the town of Jalston. Fresh foods and dry goods, leather, metal and wood works were all in abundance and each kiosk proprietor did their best to raise their voice just a bit higher than the makeshift shopkeeper in the next stall. Customers looking for a meal, and those just looking for a deal, wandered from place to place sampling tidbits and examining items of greater and lesser value.
Clothiers of many kinds were lined up along the way. Generalists with full suits and ensembles were right beside specialists like the man who claimed a secret formula that his family kept to make the dyes in his blouses so vibrant. Hats of every make and style hung from the awning of one booth and next to that an open kiosk with benches the underside of which were stowed a myriad of boots and shoes. Garments of all kinds made of leather, wool and such exotic fabrics as came from Tintel, Ronk-Tew and Culwain's Coves.
The returning acolyte Danmor interrupted the sounds of barter and trade, now freshly decked out in his gear and ready for action. Turning their backs on the Bazaar, the group moved through the central gate of Jalston and down to the Wharves and Dives. Turning immediately to their right Ponulia pointed to the new warehouse of her father and resisted the urge to allow her despondency get the better of her. A number of carts moving to and from the docks were bringing cargo to the big bay doors of the structure and workers were getting the goods inside. At the far end, a dozen various tradesfolk were busy at their crafts repairing a number of deficiencies with the building and making some needed improvements. Glancing across the way the dark doorway to the 'Gull's Lament' stood open and smoke from a myriad of habits and pipes lazily wafted into the open air. But where to start…