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	Gregory took in all of the questions with grim silence, his eyes moving from one person speaking to another in sequence. He remained stoic throughout all of this, not offering anything more than a quiet clearing of his throat or a quizzical raise of an eyebrow. Once he even took a sip from his foamy tankard of ale, but this was the extent to his reaction. When everyone had said their piece, he took in a deep, wearied breath, and addressed what questions he could.  

	[color=darkgray][b]"I have few names to give, that I can speak with certainty. Some who have gone missing and returned claim regular affairs in line with their routines which are difficult to dispute. I suspect that there would be others who returned who have not been reported for similar reasons. With reliability, I can provide a list by morning with a few names of those who have gone missing, and [i]not[/i] come back. Everything else is conjecture."[/b][/color]

	He gave a moment of thought and continued, [color=darkgray][b]"Nor can I say how long, as a whole, the victims were missing. I have reports of a few hours to a couple of days. This makes it difficult to say exactly when they vanished. So far as what they had in common..."[/b][/color] He sighed, finding it difficult to elaborate on a thought but pushing through anyway, [color=darkgray][b]"Most of the ones reported missing were vulnerable. Slight of build, young, or locals prone to drink. The kind of mark one might choose for larceny in a larger community. I don't know if this helps. Most of the disappearances which got to me occurred in the Township proper; a few from surrounding farm villages."[/b][/color]

	[color=darkgray][b]"The Township Constable's name is [i]Cavendish[/i]. Whether you wish to seek his counsel or not is up to you, given the information I have already stated. Now, if you must work with a time frame, let us say that you report back to me one week from tomorrow morning, or sooner if you have reached a conclusion. [i]Whatever[/i] that conclusion may be. We shall see where events progress from there."[/b][/color]

	[color=darkgray][b]"Concerning the Goblin threat: Yes. It would be a very rare thing to see them this far into the region, but they do have bands past our borders. With the cold coming in and the season's harvests upon us, they will occasionally skulk about the fringes to raid for food and supplies. Cautious, sneaky types, frightened away by a strong presence. Soldiers making a sweep or semi-organized militia will make them keep distance; they prefer an easy target without causing so much trouble as to have the army called down on them. There [i]are[/i] Goblins about, mind you. Sometimes private contractors are hired to deal with persistent instances."[/b][/color]

	The questions addressed to his willingness and/or ability to do so, the Sheriff then turned his focus toward the special requests made of the irregular group before him. He began with Marita, the Cleric, who seemed to have taken a more direct, vocal role from amongst them. Of course, she hadn't requested anything. [color=darkgray][b]"I thank you for accepting this challenge. Understand, I shall see you off in the morning. If you have any reasonable requests past what was offered, please let me know by then."[/b][/color]

	His attention went to Hugh next, but after a moment to consider how he might respond, Gregory shifted his gaze down the table to Kosara. [color=darkgray][b]"Your request is quite frugal. The archivist for the Fort will likely have something suitable to your needs upon completion of the investigation. If anything else comes to mind that is equally reasonable, inform me of this later."[/b][/color] It was a short conference on the matter, quickly accepted. 

	Kathryn came next. [color=darkgray][b]"What you ask for is not inexpensive. However, we do keep a standing armory. What I might provide will not be crafted by Dwarven masters, nor bear enchantment. It is perhaps not worthy of a high noble lineage. It is, however, perfectly functional for the full career of a professional soldier. Much longer with proper maintenance, barring something unforeseen."[/b][/color] 

	The shift of gaze went to Victoria. Nothing needed to be said, really, but just to keep conversation representative of all parties, he addressed her plainly. [color=darkgray][b]"I am wary of your studies, Miss Belmont, and I disagree with your methods. But the court saw fit to release you and the Acolytes found no evil within you. When your mission is complete I will keep my promise; you will have the book, inks, and access to the rituals you asked about."[/b][/color] He regarded the Half-Elven woman guardedly, but nodded and moved on. 

	The last person to voice their request was the wilderness-running Elf. His face held a mote of confusion which he might have held back behind a showing of stoic pride, but the request so vexed him that he just stared at her for a moment, unsure how to properly respond. [color=darkgray][b]"I do not pretend to know what your mind on this. If you might be clearer of intent, come to me on the morrow."[/b][/color]

	And finally, grasping at his reserves of propriety, Gregory looked to Hugh. He took another sip from his ale, cleared his throat, and sat very straight in his chair. Taking in a deep breath, he began with a clear, authoritative tone. [color=darkgray][b]"In the event that items are confiscated from persons taken into custody, their possessions are held as evidence until such time as they are processed, either to their freedom or to further judicial procedures. I do not keep their possessions for myself. Nor would I presume to dispense confiscated materials outside of established protocol, especially if I maintained a stockpile of ensorceled items. Such would be theft. I hope we understand one another."[/b][/color] The Sheriff looked the Monk over, trying to decide something for himself. After a moment, he offered another option. [color=darkgray][b]"I [i]am[/i] willing to broker a compromise. My career has brought to me a number of curious objects. Many of these objects I do not foresee requiring again. There are two items in my personal possession that I might be willing to part with. If you take this option, you will not get the gold, nor the supplies. Choose carefully."[/b][/color] 

	[color=darkgray][b]"The first one is a potion. One dose remains. The last time I sipped its contents, I leapt from a boat and was able to breathe comfortably for a short time, holding onto barnacles along the side until I could help retake the vessel. It was remarkably useful. This was years ago, obviously."[/b][/color]

	[color=darkgray][b]"The second is a vessel not unlike one of the items you asked about. A lidded ceramic pot with a metal rim, which I keep in my chambers. Casual use of the item for a couple of weeks has shown the inside dimensions are larger than the outside. I find it quite unsettling, to be honest."[/b][/color]

	From back in the kitchen, a great clatter could be heard. It wasn't so much a sound of things accidentally hitting the floor in rapid succession more than the flat metallic thwapping of many things pushed off of a high surface at once, followed by a string of swearing that might have made an Orc sailor blush. Guido took it upon himself to run back into the kitchen, his voice joining a cacophony of bellows (presumably from May) and the sound of small wares banging about. Capping everything off was the sound of the little lady in the back issuing a grandiose, [color=darkgray][i]"Damnit, damnit, DAMNIT!"[/i][/color] and the sound of a blunt object striking something else several times. 

	The Sheriff took this moment to finish off his tankard of ale in a single, long pull, and rose from his chair. [color=darkgray][b]"From the sound of things, your supper is about to be served. My own is probably waiting on me. I shall take my leave of you. Thank you for answering the summons. I shall see you tomorrow morning, before your departure."[/b][/color] With this, he turned and retreated to the bar. Apparently, he wanted to have words with Owen before he left. 

	A harsh but very quiet conversation was had between the two men, with Owen glancing back to the Adventurer's table a few times. None of this might have been easily heard in the best of circumstances and May chose this time to hastily deposit people's food in front of them (with Guido's assistance), usually with commentary involved. One steak, pork pie, potatoes, thick, toasted rye with spiced beans and crumbly, marbled cheese, seared and colorful chard, and to add as extras, some sort of custard baked into tiny, hollow, orange gourds - one for each of the remaining adventurers at the table. The previously unnamed side item asked for by the overly purple Bard came out in the form of popped, salted sorghum, looking very much like stovetop popcorn but with a darker color and lightly nutty aroma. [i]The Infamous Pear[/i] was known as a place about town to get really good food, if you didn't mind dining in a place that was an occasional guard's hangout. [color=darkgray]"Awright,"[/color] started May in a huff, [color=darkgray]"Ovens're going down for the night. You want something else that ain't tea, it's gonna be cold. Don't talk to me about it 'til Breakfast time."[/color] Gruff in delivery, though it might be ascertained that she meant well by a highly astute observer of the local social scene. 

	From back at the bar, the conversation between Sheriff Arbalest and Inkeeper Hardy was coming to a close. The Sheriff had a look of concern on his face, glancing once back at the table before exiting the premises. Food being served, Guido jogged over to the bar to see what might be the matter. Another hushed and rapid exchange of words occurred between the business partners before Guido, in a bout of confusion, blurted out, [color=darkgray]"He only sent [i]three[/i] letters! What does that even mean?"[/color] The discussion ceased after this, with both individuals swiftly finding other things to do.