"And you're sure this person knows who murdered the seneschal and stole the town treasures?" The halfling strode briskly through the busy streets of Neverwinter, its crowds a constant flood of large, dark shapes passing through the fog near her, briefly illuminated by the ghostly streetlights. She walked confidently, mouth champing on a cigar, her Neverwinter watchman's badge embossed into her dull and dented breastplate. "Ummm, yes ma'am, he says he--oof! Excuse me, sorry--says he grew up with the guy, and that he was bragging about it for days after he did it." Pyter was twice as tall as his superior officer and half as old. He was a good kid, a decent cop, but a little too trusting when it came to people. "What's the name of the town? What did he steal? Who's the witness?" "The town is Famarane, a small trading stop in the Neverwinter Wood--oh, come on! Watch where you're going!--the Woods. The town treasures were held by the seneschal, a wood elf named-" Pyter was cut off by his boss' audible groan, and stopped in his tracks as Inspector Fiona Sweetleaf whipped around to look up at him, the crowd parting around them like a river around a rock. "Wood elves? I hate dealing with these country bumpkins, Pyter. Why the hell is command foisting this off on us?" "I don't think they like us very much, ma'am. You did lock up that councilor's nephew for being drunk and disorderly." "Bullshit. If I'd let that little bastard keep on going he'd have blown up half a damn block. 'Drunk and disorderly' is a charge for tavern brawlers -- it's not enough for mages." Portia ripped off a heel-turn that would have brought a tear to the eye of the most demanding drill sergeant and continued through the fog as Pyter bumped and "excuse me"-d his way through the crowd as it filled in behind her. "Anyway, ma'am, the seneschal was named Millenthia. The town treasures were a map, a compass, and a key. And the witness' name is-" Fiona opened the door to the Watch post and strode in, nodding to the desk officer. She approached a handsome young blonde elf in leathers, leaning against a wall with a smirk on his face. "Fenneros. Thanks, Pyter, that'll be all. Wait out here." She escorted the elf into a side room built with thick stone walls and sat on a stool opposite him. "All right, Fenneros. Tell me everything you know about this thief and murderer." Fenneros smiled widely. "As luck would have it, Inspector, Elvalur was just in town, asking some questions about Thundertree..."
