Rynn sighs and leans against the doorframe, the picture of glorious boredom. "The dagger is longer than most. As the name suggests, it's pure black. Almost unnaturally so." She looked the man over - once, twice - before continuing. "We have no suspects. And we doubt it's anyone in Eastormel. No one here is that [i]stupid[/i]."

"As for how they did it. We don't know. Things would go missing-" She shrugs. "-and we assumed it had gotten misplaced. Whoever took the dagger left no trace. At least, not any that we've been able to find."

She turns her gaze on the dragonborn. "The Dark Dagger hasn't been used in decades. It's become more of a symbol." She bites her lip. "While I'm sure there are records somewhere of its power, that knowledge has been lost to our family. I can tell you that it's nothing good." She shakes her head. "Nothing good can come out of something that feels so wrong. You would have to be near it to understand but . . . That dagger, it isn't natural."

One of the guards gives her a nod, and Rynn straightens. "Right. We can't wait around here forever. If there aren't any other questions of the utmost importance to you lot, we should head out. The Underground is nearly a week's ride from here if we take our fastest horses."

"Our first stop will be the town of Timberholde. If we leave now, we should reach the inn not long after nightfall."