Kira wanted to throttle the man but kept her voice respectful.  "Please, Sir.  There is enough doubt given the accuser changed her story multiple times and why would so called savages want money?  They deal in furs and other goods.  At least bring him inside to a cell where he won't freeze to death before we can figure out what really happened.  Or release him to my custody while I see to asking the priestess for her help and also speak with Duvessa Shane.  I helped take down the yetis and I can take him down too if necessary but he wants to prove his innocence ... please, Sir.  I beg for mercy." Kira tried once more.

With Kira intent on pressing her case, Morgrim nodded his farewell to the others and set off back to the market.

---> Brina Alcott's store

The sheriff shrugs as Kira brings up her final arguments, indicating he does not know the answer to any of her questions. She senses some hesitation in the man, as though these are all points he had thought of previously, but that perhaps there is some hidden weight preventing him from acting on a hunch.

"I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do. It's Miss Alcott's word versus his. Unless you come across anything refuting Miss Alcott's account, there's just nothing I can do. His sentence stands."

The sheriff then says he has other business to attend to and retreats through the locked door.

The knife sharpener looks up briefly, then goes back to his task. The other guard escorts the adventurers to the door and wishes them well, before asking Ellie when she wants to meet up later.

Exposed to the elements is a common punishment in these parts, though it is usually reserved for the most heinous crimes. Common thievery typically results in a fine, loss of a hand, or banishment.
This message was last updated by the player at 19:10, Sat 14 Jan 2017.

Ellie looked to the guard for a moment, chewing her lip beneath her scarf.

[Private to GM: I am flattered by your interest, but I am not sure how invested you wish to be with this path. You have not even seen my face; how do you know I am not horribly scarred and disfigured beneath this visage? I assure you that the sight would not be one of easy comfort to you. Oh, and then there is the matter that I am easily and without trouble speaking directly into your mind.]
This message was last edited by the player at 15:51, Sun 15 Jan 2017.

Thane tried to laugh off Helda's comments, and he mostly succeeded.  "I suppose you're right, Miss Helda," he agreed and took a long pull from his mug of hot cider.  "I've my reasons for letting my imagination run a bit wild but I ought to reign it in.  We are a very very long way from that place now, thank the gods."

Thane made a sandwich of the foods on his platter and continued eating.  "So how many days travel is it to your clan's holdings, anyway?  Are the roads kept open at all during the snowy season, or are you expecting to have to break your trail as you go?"

In reply to Ellie Dovehand (msg # 109):

"I think that he's smitten," Arnan said with a straight face after the guard who had been hitting on Ellie had seen them out the door. "A girl could do worse," he added.

Then again, she could do a hellsuva lot better, too.

The scout glanced around the cityscape and shrugged. "I feel about as useful in this undertaking as teats on a boar. Did you catch which tavern the others were headed to? I think I may just head over for a pint or two, myself."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:30, Sun 15 Jan 2017.

Helda finishes her second mug of ale, after having swore off the 'proprietary' brandy earlier. After wiping the froth from the corner of her mouth with a brilliantly colored handkerchief she reponds, "In good weather, about 6 hours along well worn path. If the snow doesn't let up," she says while peering out a sooty window, "it may take a bit longer and it might make my cart impractical."

Helda further explains she intends on setting out at latest, five days from now. She has a few loose ends to tie up in town before departing for the winter. She then adds she was unable to secure a room at Geldenstag's Rest meeting her specifications and ended up finding a reasonable room at Northlook instead. She claims Northlook is a bit on the rowdy side, but it will have to do for now. "Not like I am wintering there afterall!" she adds in cheerfully before another mug of ale arrives at the table.

A concerned look flashes across the smitten guard's face. Suddenly he begs himself back to duty. "Alright. Alright. You folks take care now," seemingly too happy to depart for his post elsewhere.

He glances back once in the party's direction before disappearing around a corner heading toward the East Gate.

Location: Brinna Alcott's Shop

Morgrim and perhaps Kira and Arnan make for Brinna Alcott's store located just off Market Square. The Madame Alcott's shop is little more than a rundown wood bungalow jammed full of wool, linen and sewing supplies. Inside the humble shop, a prune-faced woman with hawkish features bides her time in a knotty rocking chair, idly knitting a wool cap trimmed with fur.

As the door is thrown open, sounding a string of antlers and bells, the aged woman looks up from her work and exchanges brief greetings, "Well met, well met. Come. Come inside from the cold."

She ceases knitting and waits before all have entered and then tells them to feel free to look around, but if there is something special they need, let her know and she will find it.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:22, Sun 15 Jan 2017.

"Kelvin's Comfort," Morgrim replies. "But if ye're not in a terrible hurry I wouldn't say no to another set of ears. We already know what Sheriff Markham thinks of 'he said, she said' when it comes to outsiders. But she said, he said, he corroborates is another story altogether."

"Wouldn't hold it against you if you were thirsty though," Morgrim said with a wink.

Finding Brinna Alcott's shop did not prove to be a difficulty. Morgrim brushed through the doors, shook off his cloak and stamped his boots to remove the worst of the winter snow.

"Ms. Alcott?" he said warmly, with a friendly smile for their hostess. "I got your name at the gate. I'm Morgrim, Morgrim Ironhammer."

Morgrim took a few steps into the store and looked around, ostensibly with an eye towards the goods but also towards the integrity of the hovel itself. "I came up with the caravan. We had some linens and silks on board to barter and sell, only I'd heard a rumour that you'd lost your whole inventory to some wretched thief!"

Does it look like there has been a breakin or altercation in the store? Are any of the entrances damaged? Does it look like any of the stock was overturned?

Miss Alcott narrows listens amenably as Morgrim exchanges greetings but her eyes narrow and her body posture becomes defensive when the crime is mentioned. She clutches her knitwork tightly to her bossom and responds, "...Yes. Well, no. No. Not my whole inventory, as you can plainly see." She gestures to the sagging shelves jam packed with wool and cloth.

Morgrim sees no sign of break in. The windows appear intact and the door does not appear to have been forced open. Judging from the orderly clutter and thin layer of dust coating everything, the shop does not appear to have been rifled through. There is also no evidence of any confrontation taking place in the shop. Glancing around, Morgrim also notes a sigil of Auril, a snowflake set in a diamond, carved into the lintel of the doorframe. The sigil appears to be a relatively recent addition, as the score marks have not aged like the rest of the wood around it.

"Is there something I can help you with?" she finally asks. Her tone and demeanor is very guarded.

"I'm glad to hear you weren't too hardly done by," Morgrim said. "Me dear ol' Da' ran a shop all his life and thieves nearly brought him low more than once. I have the utmost sympathy for a merchant's plight."

"No, I simply wanted to give you a first look before we unloaded at Rendoril's. We've come with fine silks all the way from Calimport and warm wools from the dale lands. Linens and more besides. Before I went to the trouble of dragging the inventory up I just wanted to make sure you still had coin on hand."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:19, Mon 16 Jan 2017.

"Fine silks you say, all the way from Calimport?" the old woman's eyes twinkle with delight. "Oh, I would love to see some of those. Not much of that finery makes it this way up here." Her defensive posture becomes more relaxed now as she leans forward in her rocking chair, placing the wool garment in her lap while she rubs her hands together eagerly.

Finally, she asks if she can see a few of the finer silks before they are unloaded at Rendaril's, to perhaps make an offer before they reach the warehouse.

"As long as coin isn't a problem, and it sounds like it is not!" Morgrim said with a hearty laugh. Of course it wasn't. The old bat hadn't lost her lockbox to begin with. "I could probably do a good price for a devotee of Auril, too," Morgrim mused, nodding towards the sign on the lintel.

"Serves that sticky fingered savage right, the Frostmaiden take him," he growled.

Ellie let out a long sigh after the guard departed.

"Perhaps some day..." she told herself, somewhat forlornly. She then hurried after Morgrim, having lost him for a bit.

She caught up, entering the store a little after he did. Seeing that Morgrim was already heavy into conversation with him, she waited patiently.

Miss Alcott's posture becomes sudued when Morgrim mentions the savage. "Yes. Well, that. It's quite...unfortunate. But maybe what Davrick has been saying isn't all a bunch of hooey afterall. It probably would be best for all concerned for the Frostmaiden's fury to be diverted away from the hardworking people of Ten-Towns. Those glacier savages have done enough ill deeds to have it coming," she claims. Her speech here sounds rote, almost as if she heard the words elsewhere and recited them from memory.

Assuming one of the party members asks her about Davrick, Miss Alcott says Davrick Fain is an annointed Priest of Auril that has been warning of this winter for months now, but his warnings have fallen on deaf ears. Davrick Fain runs a resale shop in Bremen, a village north of Bryn Shander along Maer Dualdon.

Ellie steps forward a bit, looking into the woman's eyes with her own deep, dark orbs. "I'm so sorry that happened to you. Truly then, that young man deserves to freeze to death, slowly from exposure. He wronged you, personally, and there is still justice in this world if he dies for it, right?" she says, pressing her with the questions to get her to speak directly about the boy.

---

^{20:42, Today: Ellie Dovehand rolled 15 using 1d20+5.  Persuasion.}

Miss Alcott recoils backward slightly, biting her lower lip while her eyes dart from side. "If that satisfies the Frostmaiden, yes, yes, it will be so. Only she knows."

"He wouldn't be the first or last to know Auril's embrace. We all will in time," she says with conviction.

OOC: Not sure I understand the last in-character sentence in relation to the Persuasion roll.

Ellie nodded slightly at the woman's words, then abruptly turned and walked out of the shop. She stopped outside, leaning against the building next to the door as she waited for Morgrim.

You should just burn down this shop with her in it. She deserves no less than to choke on the fumes, sticking to a lie like that in the face of an innocent young man dying slowly.

Ellie pouted within her own thoughts for a moment longer, then took a deep breath and tried to shake them away.

---

^{(( OOC: That's exactly what I wanted, I was trying to see if I could break her by making her face the consequences of this line of accusations, but she stuck to it instead. ))}

"Truly," Mogrim acknowledged, watching the woman leave before directing his attention once more to Ms. Alcott.

"So I must know what happened! My father always enjoys a good story and he will love to hear of this when I venture South in the spring. The savage broke in yesterday morning and tried to make off with your cloth? How did you outfox him?" he asked with seemingly keen interest.

Arnan had followed Morgrim and Ellie to the shop where the barbarian had supposedly attempted his thievery. The scout had decided that he had really rather be in a tavern drinking some stout Dwarven ale, but Morgrim's comment about having another pair of ears along had made sense -- Arnan knew how these little towns were, and knew that it might well take more than one outsider's word to contradict someone who lived in Bryn Shander.

He nodded to Ellie as she left the shop, but for his part he maintained his silent vigil from his spot next to the door, where he leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed across his chest. By his estimation the clever Dwarf was shepherding the hawk-faced Miss Alcott in the direction that he wanted her to go, and the scout waited for the shop-keeper to trip herself up . . .

After all, patience in one of the virtues that a hunter's life teaches one. It takes a little while sometimes, but if a hunter is patient enough, the prey will usually fall to his arrow.

"Carts CAN be hard to make it through deep snow.  I would imagine it would extend the trip out by a couple of hours at least plus make you more vulnerable for attacks from those who use the elements to their nefarious advantage.  But you said that Geldenstag's Rest did not meet your specifications.  May one inquire as to what they lacked?  I am not sure if Grim has lodging for us or what but if he doesn't get here soon it will be hard for even him to catch up with us on the ale count.  Can you also tell me which temples there are in town? I would like to see if Sharindlar is represented, or has at least an alcove, etc."

Dalgura put in a call for some food, so she wouldn't be tempted any more to steal some off the plate of her companion, and changed her drink to match it.

"<blue>Now Thane, you mentioned you have learned a bit of our language.  Let's hear you speak it.  Let's see if those pebbles are still in your mouth.>"

The old woman's eyes narrow and she responds, "Yes. That's right. A bolt of finely combed wool...and a few other things as well." She then claims she knows everything in her shop, where she put it and how many of each item. "Mind's like a steel trap," she boasts. She shifts uncomfortably in her chair. She has remained seated throughout.

"If something isn't right, I'm sure to know it just as quick as an eastern gale!"

She begins rocking again, this time more rapidly. The floorboards creak with each motion.

"What a fool trying to pull one over you! What does a savage like that need with a bolt of wool anyway?" Morgrim roared in laughter. It begged an obvious question of course. What did a barbarian need with fine textiles? "So what happened then? Was there a struggle? How did you stop him?" The dwarven druid rubbed his hands together gleefully.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:52, Mon 16 Jan 2017.

Meanwhile, back at Kelvin's Comfort, Dalgura and Thane are getting along quite well. Several empty mugs litter their table and a ruin of bowls, trays and a few stray bits of uneaten scrap.

Master Hugglesward eventually makes his entrance, a sizable posse of his employees in tow. The merchant caravan swarms into the tavern and the mood becomes quite boisterous. It is all Ogden Flamebeard can do to keep the mobs' mugs filled, but fill he does. Master Hugglesward gives a short speech, a toast to the men and women who came up north with him, asking for Waukeen to look on kindly after each member. His toast complete, Master Hugglesward settles in to enjoy the evening.

The caravan master has purchased an entire keg of dwarven ale for his troupe, which should last through the evening.

During the evening, Dalgura learns that there are several shrines in Bryn Shander, the largest of which is devoted to Waukeen. If Bryn Shander can claim a patron deity, the Goddess of Commerce would claim that honor. Other public shrines include those dedicated to Gond, Ilmater, Kelemvor, Malar, Talos and curiously Amaunator. Amaunator is an ancient sun god, more commonly venerated in lands far to the south. Even there, his worshippers are few. A priestess, Mithann, has come to establish a small shrine near Market Square, where she has brings a message of hope and rebirth to Icewind Dale. Mithann is known to take a great interest in adventurers, herself a former adventurer hailing from Cormyr.