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When searching the grounds for tracks, it was said that there were no indications of a struggle, mass rush of people running from something, or drag marks of the sort. The ground is dry and dusty, as mentioned earlier, so if any footprints were left behind, the winds would have eroded them over the course of the three days the Iron Glade Man was gone. Someone skilled in tracking would have been able to pick up on this and differentiate between normal footprints produced from everyday activity in the town from those of unnatural occurrence.

The direction of the mass reverse exodus of people is coming from one direction, the open-pit mine. This you can easily discern by looking out the window.

Flynn checks his sword and bow then stands "Let's go find out."
He works his way to the door, only cracks it open, ready to close it again, and calls out to the closest villager "Good people, what news?"

Mehath

"Agreed." Mehath begins making ready his gear.

Flynn, as ready as he's going to get, calls out to the closest villager behind a partially cracked door, "Good people, what news?"

His inquiry is met with shuffling feet and silence, more doors closing opening and closing.

Eric casts 'detect magic' before looking out the window to see what he can discern

Eric's detect magic finds that Elithil has a magical item in his possession. The shape of it suggests that it is a weapon, a bow. Looking out the window of the room Eric is in, he does not detect any magical items within the vicinity of his gaze. It would appear that if there is magic about, it is not of the physical nature at work here, but something unseen.

The cascade of various doors opening and closing in the middle of the night ceases. Silence now fills the halls once more, the occasional spurt of someone snoring in another room the only disturbance heard.

Actions?

OOC: Agreed, no rush hear.

If no actions are taken, the night proceeds to morning. The rest of you are woken by the sounds of heavy footsteps, a sudden grunt of annoyance and an equally heavy knocking on your door. *bang bang bang* "Hey, anyone in there?" *bang bang bang* The fist thundering on the door goes on a for a few more seconds. If anyone was still asleep up until this point, they are awake now.

Just when the bellicose man behind the door is about to open the door forcefully, you hear someone from the down the hall outside your room approach.

*ahem* "Pardon the suddenness of this event, sir. This room has been paid for, here is my key."

"Ah, my apologies mister...?" replies the man who was just thundering on your door moments ago.

"Moldevay, Lord Mordenkainen Moldevay of the Mentzer Trading House."

"Oh yes, yes! Of course! My sincerest apologies my lord. I shall have your morning meal delivered at once!"

"Very good." You can hear the jangling of keys. "Off you go then." The footsteps of the, what you can only guess was the innkeeper, hurry off. Then, after some more jangling of keys, you hear a distinct unlocking sound. The door to your room opens.

".... you've brought some new faces with you. Interesting." The man looks directly at Elithil and Flynn as he says this. At a glance, you cannot quite discern his face, almost as if it isn't real. Flynn and Elithil get the uncanny feeling that they've met his man before.

Mehath

"I am Mehath! Who are you?" Mehath says as he strides towards the stranger.

Elethil fixes his yellow, unblinking cat eyes on the man. "`Mordenkainen Moldvay,'" he says, echoing the man's words. "I have heard that name used before, by a man who wore other faces than his own. Are we speking with Lodvik Dufonte perhaps?"

The man nods and gives a brief smile. "I've been called that name once, back when I still had a measure of authority. Now I borrow other names, and faces, to suit my needs. I see you are still a sharp one, Elf of the Noldorin clan. Does the other half of the coin still glimmer?"

For Zhym: Akabel has but only met this man just now, and already he tires of his riddle-speak. With pointed words, he speaks his mind. "You steal names and faces, and you speak in vague words. Thieves and criminals make use of those skills. Elithil." He asks while keeping his eyes on the self-proclaimed lord, "How do you know this man, and can he be trusted?"

Mehath
"I am not getting a trustworthy vibe from him."

"It is a long story," says Elethil, in his seemingly emotionless, slow speech. He is not yet sure how much he should say. "This man is, or was, the master of a guild of assassins. 'The Order of the Knife.' They hold—or held, for I am unsure of their current status, though I assume they continue to exist in some form—a particular hatred of magic and those who use it. We formed an alliance some time ago—though perhaps 'truce' would be a more fitting word—born of necessity, to defeat Fenrin, the usurping fabricator of planes."

"Is he trustworthy?" Elethil does not remove his eyes from the "Faceless man." "One of his agents tried to kill me. They thought me a user of magic, and they were correct. But when we declared a truce, I did not end up with a dagger in my back. In that, at least, he kept his word."

"The Brotherhood grows and thrives," he says, answering the man who today calls himself 'Lord Mordenkainen Moldevay.' "We no longer need meet in secret, or whisper furtively in fear. We teach people about magic. Not magic itself, usually, but about magic—that it is a tool that may be used for good or evil depending on the hand that wields it. We teach against the temptations of dark magic, and we still destroy it wherever it is found." Elethil's speech, he realizes, is as much for his new companions' benefit as for his old "friend."

"And what of the Order, and of yourself?" he asks.

Lord Moldevay simply closes his eyes, shakes his head slightly and shrugs. "You could say we had a falling out. A difference of opinion drove some of my members apart. Some of my men believed that by working with the Brotherhood, even if it was for a short period of time, it was tantamount to having been stabbed in the back." The man chuckles at the irony of his words and smooths out the wrinkles in his waistcoat before taking a seat.

"Regardless," he continues, "we all still serve the one true God, and of course the crown. If you haven't heard of our efforts, then we've been doing a good job of it."

"You all have questions, I'm sure, but first, I am quite curious as to why you are all here, Iron Glade of all places." Moldevay looks strangely at the Iron Glade Man as he says this, but does not follow up on the quick dart of the eyes. Through subtle body language, he makes it clear that the question is pointed towards everyone.

"We could ask the same of you," says Elethil. "In fact, I will: what brings you to Iron Glade, of all places?"

"I'm here strictly on business. There is a matter that I've been asked to look into, and I'm currently doing so. If it has anything to do with why you all are here, then perhaps this business of mine can be turned into a mutual arrangement between our parties." Moldevay makes it clear that he won't give a straight answer until he receives one of his own. Careful to avoid any specifics, other than what Elithil has already mentioned, the self-professed trader nobleman keeps his cards close with a half-twisted smile.

To the others listening in on this conversation, the man looks like a noble and speaks like a trader, but if what Elithil said of the man's past is true, then striking a deal with him may prove very dangerous. Akabel can see the wisdom in just leaving this room and confronting the problem of this town head-on, and in fact, starts to do just that. To further deal with shady types like Moldevay may very well stray him from his path. He mentions to the others that he will go to the open-pit mine and inspect it.

Flynn, too, seems to have his reservations about this man. Having a shared history with Elithil and Moldevay, the swashbuckler knows the role that Moldevay played, and he did not care for it. It was a case of picking between the lesser of two evils. If it were not for his unwavering loyalty to his friends and to his king, he may settle for heading back to his Amberlynn and resuming a life on the seas. But evil magic was afoot, and he would have none of that so long as he called this land his home. With a resolute nod, he signals to Elithil that he will back him up on his decision.

Elethil raises one eyebrow. He has already been much more forthcoming with information than has the man who won't even admit to a name other than an alias. "I had hoped that we were past these games, Dufonte, or whatever name you now call yourself. You ask many questions but provide only evasions and vagaries in response to ours." The elf gestures toward his companions. "These men do not trust you. I am not entirely sure that I do. So either state your business or go tend to it."

Mehath

"Agreed!"