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[h2][color=64520A][i][b]Daxos Ironbow[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=64520A]Dwarf, Rogue, Thief, Level [/color]05[/b][/i]
[color=64520A][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 43 / 43	[color=64520A][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 14	[color=64520A][i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=64520A][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Southmoor
[color=64520A][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] Successful Investigation, Insight, and Deception roll
[color=64520A][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=64520A][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A 
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[color=64520a]“Aye, pleasure tae make yer acquaintance, lass,”[/color] Daxos replied, taking her offered hand with a firm shake, his calloused grip a testament to long, rough work. [color=64520a]“Name’s Daxos Ironbow. I’d be much obliged tae tag along wi’ ye. Figure I’ll not get lost that way.”[/color]

He gave a short chuckle, the sound low and gravelly. As they began walking toward the township’s center, Daxos listened as Kosara filled the space between their steps with bright words and carefree chatter. She spoke of her “grand quest” to the townhall with a kind of warmth and wonder that felt foreign to him. Her laughter rose above the crunching snow, and for the first time in weeks, Daxos found himself walking beside someone who didn’t make the world feel heavy.

[color=64520a]“Ye’ve a strange sort o’ spirit, I’ll give ye that,”[/color] he murmured at one point, mostly to himself, though she probably heard. [color=64520a]“Folk dinnae talk o’ quests an’ hall visits in the same breath where I’m from.”[/color]

The two arrived at the townhall—a squat, timber-framed building with age-weathered walls and a chill that clung to the air. Inside, the scent of parchment and ink filled the room. Behind a broad oak desk sat a woman, spectacles perched on the bridge of her nose.

[color=darkgray][i]"Um, might I help you with something?"[/i][/color] she asked, her voice as even as her posture.

[color=f7941d]“Yes and hello!... I’m Kosara, nice to meet you!”[/color] the tiefling said cheerfully, her tail flicking slightly as she leaned forward on the counter.

Daxos stood a few paces back, arms crossed, eyeing the exchange. [color=64520a]By the Stone, she talks like there’s no danger in the world,[/color] he thought, brow furrowed. Her open manner, her disarming smile—it was the complete opposite of the careful, transactional world he was used to.

He listened as Kosara continued, [color=f7941d]“I’m looking for information on the records for the L’Rose family for a few generations back. Things like birth records and death records. I’m friends with Lizbeth, and it had come into somewhat relevance and we figured the best way to figure it all out is to check with the Townhall!”[/color]

[color=64520a]Birth an’ death records? In a hamlet like this?[/color] Daxos mused silently, shifting his weight. [color=64520a]What in the Nine Hells could be so important aboot that?[/color] He decided not to question it—Kosara had her reasons, and her world clearly ran on curiosities rather than coin.

When the clerk returned, she carried a small stack of aged ledgers. Daxos joined Kosara at the table, helping sort through them. The entries were neat but strangely recent. None went back more than a century. For a settlement as old as Southmoor, that was... off. He quietly took out a small, battered journal—a recent acquisition for “notes”—and began scribbling in tight dwarvish shorthand. He noted the lack of records before a hundred years, the consistent listing of only human and halfling births and deaths, and the absence of any dwarven, elven, or gnomish names.

After several minutes, Daxos glanced up and addressed the clerk. [color=64520a]“Beggin’ yer pardon, miss,”[/color] he said, tone mild but measured. [color=64520a]“But this seems tae be a bit limited. D’ye happen tae have anythin’ older, or is this all the town’s kept?”[/color]

[color=darkgray][i]"There are a lot more records, sir. These are just the ones your ladyfriend requested. Why is a stranger interested in all of Southmoor's town history, anyway? And who are you folks, if you don't mind my asking?"[/i][/color]

Her words were polite, but the look behind them wasn’t. Daxos caught the edge of suspicion and felt the old instincts twitch to life—she’s hiding something. His first thought was to probe further, to find a way into the restricted stacks and confirm his hunch. But then, reason crept in. If some stranger came poking around the record halls of his old mountain home, asking after generations past, he’d have reacted the same way.

[color=64520a]“Ach, fair question, that,”[/color] he said smoothly, leaning on the counter. [color=64520a]“We’re doin’ a bit o’ genealogical research, ye see. Tryin’ tae piece together some family ties fer a project. Properly thorough work requires full records, so I thought I’d ask.”[/color]

The clerk regarded him for a long moment, then nodded curtly.

[color=darkgray][i]"...Very well. I’ll see what I can find later. Please don’t disturb the archives without assistance."[/i][/color]

When she turned and left to fetch more ledgers, Daxos exhaled slowly, rubbing his beard. [color=64520a]Dodged that one.[/color] He turned to Kosara, lowering his voice.

[color=64520a]“Right, lass. Here’s what I’ve got so far. Records only go back a century or so—odd, considerin’ how old this place looks. An’ only humans an’ halflin’s listed. Nae a mention o’ elves, dwarves, or the like. Somethin’s off aboot that.”[/color]

He slid his journal across for her to see, one corner of his mouth curling wryly. [color=64520a]“Seems ye’ve dragged me into somethin’ curious after all.”[/color]