“…”
Canary breathes a low sigh. She looks downtrodden. Miserable.
She doesn’t give any warning signs to stop listening.
Canary whispers, and hopes it doesn’t reach your ears. “Wouldn’t it just be best if I went in?”
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Drakor frowned. “It didn’t sound like there were that many people who bought the cloth. And in any case…” he trailed off as he saw the expression on Canary’s face.
((Pardon my stupidity, but Arius now genuinely believes it is impossible for Wanderer to be uninvolved in the murder of Martyn Kaver.))
Arius has neither been saying anything, nor listening anything.
The moment he recognizes the footprints matched, he has just been staring daggers at Wanderer from a moderately far distance.
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Now that Arius has a match on one of the three footprints, he tries to guess whether the middling size footprint might have come from the victim. He also tries to guess what race the small footprint might have come from.
It’s hard to be certain without a side-by-side comparison, but it doesn’t seem implausible that the middling footprint came from the victim. The smaller footprint probably still came from a human, or a roughly human-sized species – it’s not small enough to be a halfling print, and dwarf footprints tend to be relatively wide compared to how long their feet are.
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13
“Canary.” Drakor said in a low voice. “I do not mean to impose, but if the confines of the shop are preventing you from talking to the shopkeeper, I could go in and ask her to to speak with you outside.”
-And as soon as she noticed she was heard.
“It’ssssss fine!” I dramatically wave him off. “I’m making a big deal over nothing.”
Canary quickly moves towards the door, but not yet entering.
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“Oh, but one thing.” I quickly turn and holds my finger up.
“It’d be best for you all to stay outside. Especially you.” I gesture at Drakor. “Since she knows you were asking about it. She might get suspicious.”
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Drakor nodded. “Do you want the scrap of fabric?” he asked, holding it out.
I shake my head.
Canary enters the store.
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Drakor nodded. He sat down outside, then began cleaning his nails.
With a dagger.
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Zelsh ignored the spider for now as he attacked the web again to get rid of it.
(( This time, no matter what he rolls, the web is destroyed. ))
Serian smiles politely at you as you enter. “Looking for anything?”
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Your sword cleaves easily through the spiderwebs, leaving nothing but a few strands clinging to the ground.
(that square is now regular terrain, with no webbing)
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