There times when strange and inexplicable things happen to ordinary people. Unexplained occurrences, misplaced items, and the sounds of something that couldn't be seen. These things were what people called 'the supernatural'. But to Shiloh, there was always a logical answer that explained everything. Rumor has it that the good folk of Komiteia witnessed these strange going-ons in the past month at different places in the city. Visitors and tourists were a common sight, so it may as well be an exaggeration. However there was a grain of truth to these tall tales, as it was highly unusual for so man unrelated individuals to share almost near-identical experiences. The word on Bridge Street was a mysterious skulking shadow was seen lingering around after sunset. All eyewitness accounts mentioned it appeared when foot traffic was low and people were heading off to bed. People who worked late into the night or held a night shift were most likely to encounter it, giving them the spooks. 

Public safety was now a concern, and that would impact the halfling city's hospitality business. The biggest draw was their good food, good craftsmanship, and quality service. Dressed in plain clothes, the rogue set off to find the list of witnesses who saw the shadow last for some clues. She almost forgot what it was like walking around on the neat cobblestone roads. Flexing her fingers, she loosened them up. "Time to get to work. First stop, Barnham & Bradley–locksmith and pawnshop. The late-shift store clerk thought he heard footsteps as he was heading home after closing up." The information she gathered about him said he was a freckled red-head, curly hair with glasses. The jumpy, excitable sort. Asking him what he saw that night and what time he left the shop would help set a baseline for the time frame of when the phenomenon would occur. Not to raise too much suspicion, she chose to inquire from nearby businesses to make the questioning seem more natural. 

"For de last time, stop messing with me tools," badgered the glasses-wearing, red-headed halfling as a woman twice her size seemed to have taken command over the shop. Its not like she was trying to steal it in front of his face. In actuality, she was smoothing the tools over with a cloth and a bit of oil, as if working on giving hem a newer shine.

"I am sorry, but it would simply not do to keep business with the tools in this condition. Their ends are s roughly worked and aged that its only a matter of time it would break in the item itself," stated the much taller woman, long red hair flowing past her mid-back with strands of white throughout. She stood on the balls of her feet as if on invisible heels as she moved to the counter to rest the item back down before pulling a cloth. "And the metal dustings are nothing for a customer to be breathing in."

"Yes, problems that I will worry about, later! Ugh, all because you brought dat customer who broke the seal on that lock… 'ad to force my way in. Should 'ave been glad the seal didn't eradicate the contents inside."

"You say that, but the hour is slow now, so there is no reason to dela–" That was when the door opened up and a new lass entered the frame. Quite a simple gettup, probably a sight seer. "Ah, good evening, madam," the tall woman stated, granting her a bow before continuing on with dusting the shelves. The halfling simply rolled his eyes.

"Pardon de mess," the shop keep stated, half sarcastically as he rolled his eyes towards the draconian, "but welcome to Bamham & Bradley. What can I help ye wit?"

The key was to act natural. Unfortunately for Shiloh, that was the problem. 'Acting natural' had a tendency to translate into 'mirroring the behavior and habits of whoever is present while hoping to blend in'. She noted the shop's mess, the halfling she was looking to question, and a stranger who didn't seem like a local in these parts. Adjusting the straps of her bag, she chose to put on the 'concerned local citizen' act. "Oh, thank goodness–I was worried I'd have to wait. I don't mean to pry, but you wouldn't have happened to run into some sort of strange…suspicious figure hanging about in the evening hours?" As she spoke, she quickly altered her prepared excuse to that of an eccentric traveling novelist looking to find inspiration for her next work. It worked better than the previous idea, and would allow her to explain away any odd behaviors. "–At least that's what word on the street says."

And now the difficult part, reading the room. It was critical to pay attention to the man's reaction. Whether she had found the right person or not and if he had been a witness would be revealed just by how he responded. The woman busily cleaning the shop seemed very out of place, and the halfling's attitude towards her implied the lady wasn't usually here. All the while, Shiloh was putting in her utmost effort to maintain a sense of normalcy–keeping eye contact with the halfling man with a face of eager enthusiasm. Outside it was still bright out, so there was plenty of time before the window of opportunity would arrive to witness the strange shade in person. 

"First dis maid, now a lass thinking we be some type of tavern," the halfling mulled, scratching his head. "Why would ye want to know, anyways? Ye don' look like the local guard." That was when the lass spun her tale of being a novelist, which caused him to pause before sighing. "Not many go to a locksmith to help get muse fur mystery or horror novel…" Still, it was clear to tell he was mulling something over in his head. "Tell ye what: Ye give me something I can work on, andye might learn a thing or two. Sometimes, I get so engrossed in me work, that I find meself thinkin' aloud. At least, that's what I've been told." From the glance at the tools on his belt and tended to at the counter, it would seem he had some knowledge with both physical and magical locks, so it would just be a matter on if she took the bait.

"As for me," Jesgil brought up, "I have only arrived in the afternoon and have yet to find an inn for the night. I'm afraid that I have not heard much myself, outside of the typical mutters of the market." And even then, it wasn't like she was keeping an open ear for such gossip, so even if she did catch a glance of it, it would have most likely melded in with the rest of the noise. "If you are going to be waiting here, would you like me to fetch you some water? Refill your waterskin or something?"

So the locksmith needed something to get himself rambling, did he? This was unexpected, but at least he was willing to cooperate. "Oh um, let me see what I have…" Quickly she started fishing through her knapsack for anything that could keep the halfling's hands busy. She pulled out an ornate puzzle lockbox she had bought from some passing 'merchants' who claimed to be from Karith after detecting its strange aura. Hopefully it wasn't rigged with some sort of trap. "How's this? No obvious keyholes or mechanisms to open, seamless too. There might be a magic seal or something involved." The reason why she hadn't cracked it open was the possibility of destroying the contents if it was brute forced. That and the fact she couldn't fix magical things that were broken…

The tall maid–who apparently had invited herself in–said she was a new arrival. Being a fresh face in town, she didn't have the chance to experience the local rumors. When the woman asked if she could get her anything, Shiloh nervously waved to decline. "No no, there's no need. Well that's a shame, I guess I'll have to try my luck somewhere else after." Keep up appearances with her cover was important, even down to the smallest details. You had to act the part to do a good job. Waiting a bit, she watched the halfling work his trade's version of 'magic' on the puzzle box. "So…when did these rumors start flying around? Did somebody have a little too much to drink one night and had some late-night hallucinations, or did they find themselves not quite alone one midnight eve?" Shiloh started with some idle chatter to get the words coming. The focused eagerness and added glib talk was a well-practiced routine she had seen thanks to her son. If Belen knew he had inspired one of her incognito fronts, he'd be flattered.  

The halfling took the box, giving a quick eye over, muttering to himself, "Seamless, eh? And my brother's a dwarf," denoting the claim as he spied it over before rummaging his thumbs over the device. "Once I determine what type of box it is, the seams will be on full display." That was when one of his thumbs slid part of the face out, revealing a bit of a rune. His face clearly showed he had hit himself a good time as he set it on the counter before tinkering the space with his tools.

*tink tink… tink tink… clink tink clink….* The sounds of his tools echoed in the chamber as he begun his work, a lot less talking than marketed as he worked on the rune before beginning to rummage the box more for more secret panels. His concentration was locked tight on the box as if the world around him was no more, which would probably seem bad to the information seeker.

"They always tend to hide in the shadows," he finally spoke up, "trying to make sure they are not known. And yet, within that stillness comes an uneasy feeling down everyone spine. Some say its a stalker, others a slaver, and a small handful call an assassin. No real move had been made to determine their objective so the guards don't know how to react, which in turn makes everyone else seem unsettled worse. .

As he spoke, the maid eyed on, her hand moving to grasp the obsidian shard around her neck as it pulsed with a faint, magical light. Clearly, it seemed the guest was not the one one taking in the details.

"Either way, these statements had been fairly recent. Week at most, but gained quite some traction in the past couple. Eyes that see through them, yet unseen themselves. No one could tell what would be inside just like this little box," a click echoed as one of the walls gave way, opening up to reveal what seemed to have been a bell on a collar, though the size would suggest it was meant to be fit on a rodent or weasel. "Until we can tell what's inside or how to get there, there isn't much we can really do, no can we?"

She'd have to pay the halfling for his help after this was done, but a small fee wasn't a problem if it got her more information. Shiloh sat and waited as the locksmith opened the box, bit by bit. Good thing it wasn't too easy, or she'd have to find something else. He began rambling, describing the rumored shadow's peculiar habits. So far nobody knew what it was, just that it was there and lurked about. They didn't show when it would be easy to catch them, elusive and generally unsettling. Word of mouth must've spread fast for it to catch like fire in a week. "You don't say…" She said, trying to make small talk. Leaning on her arm, she spied the contents of the deconstructed lockbox from where she sat. "All that security for a belled collar?" Either this was a keepsake or an eccentric's magical artifact. Why would someone put a belled collar inside such a complicated contraption?

The maid didn't say anything, though it was hard to say if she was spooked or just reacting to the tall tales. "So the mystery deepens! Fantastic!" Shiloh said, holding her arms up above her head. Feigning excitement and a cheeky demeanor broke the tension and emphasized her 'oddball novelist' persona. Digging around in her pockets, she gave a quick glance around to see if there were any rates posted on the locksmith's services before placing a modest sum of coin on the halfling's counter. "Here's a tip for your help–oh and for opening the box too. I'll be taking the box back now that it's open. A bell and collar huh, weird." Putting it back into her knapsack, she waved at the two before heading out. "Well will you look at the time–it's almost dusk. Maybe I'll get lucky and catch a glimpse or two of this night-time prowler after dinner." 

Since all reports of the phenomenon pointed to it appearing during nighttime, she might as well make the most of her time before then. First she'd grab a bite to eat then find a nice spot to set up a lookout. With eyes like hers, if it showed up she wouldn't miss it. Now the choice was deciding what to eat. Komiteia was famous for its family-style restaurant fare, but she wasn't in the mood for a sit-down dinner. The risk of facing chatty locals was too high, and she wasn't going near anywhere with a bar. Maybe she could find a place to grab a sandwich to-go? She loitered around the front of the locksmith's for a bit as she was weighing her options. Contrary to her former light-hearted demeanor, her face was impassive and serious.