The smithy is opened to the public on two sides, exposing racks of tools and a few weapons hanging from hooks to showcase the smith's work. It seems to be of average quality. The shop and equipment therein indicate a modest amount of success in the business. The goliath wipes his brow and, seeing the cat prowling around, bends down and extends a huge, inviting hand.

Just before opening the door, Tug and Wilfer enter the business, they note a small sign on the window inset into the door (this is a tasteful luxury not usually seen) that reads:

Open all hours. You are expected.

It is immediately obvious upon entry that this is not a shop. It appears to be a cross between someone's house and carnival oddities sideshow. The black hair of a half-elf's head peeks over the top of a high-backed chair in front of a fire. Books, pinned collections of insects, bones of various creatures, gadgetry, and other curiosities litter the room, sitting on every available flat surface and, in some cases, hang from the walls and ceiling.

The lone occupant stops torturing his lute as the pair enter. "Oh," he says without looking around his chair. "Two men who do not know each other well. Yet you came together. That must make you messengers of a sort. But it is not a violent message, at least."

The half-elf stands. He is lean and tall, black hair falling to his shoulders but cropped out of his eyes. He looks over his pair of visitors. "You I recognize," he says to Wilfer. Turning to Tug, he adds, "And you are a dock hand, most likely, possibly a sailor. You are an odd combination."

The half-elf begins to pace, talking breathlessly as he undoes the puzzle before him. "You stand apart from each other, so you do not know each other well but you travel together. You are empty-handed, though armed and armored. You work for someone. Curtis Dron? No, I don't think so, though you," he says, pointing to Wilfer, "are known to associate with him. You are not his man, though."

He looks back and forth between Tug and Wilfer, stopping his pacing. "Meraldine Forsythe? No, you don't recognize that name. Most curious."

Rixton Pendrift sits down on the floor, cross-legged, and begins rubbing his chin in pensive speculation.

Bokes humphs and turns to keep walking. "Do what you want."

He continues his public walk, turning eventually onto a row of widely-spaced three-story manors, each with well-kept landscaping and multiple chimneys billowing smoke. This is a neighborhood that does not worry about the expense of coal and unquestionably hires multiple servants. The street is slightly darker but still lit by the mostly full moon as well as less frequently-spaced street lamps.

The goliath is extremely gentle in petting the cat. He does so for long enough that a cranky dwarf comes out in a huff. "Oi! Get tha' blazes back to it, ya soft-headed walnut!"

The goliath wipes his hand on his apron and fetches another rod to begin another horseshoe. The dwarf stands and watches him for a few minutes and then returns to the interior of the shop.

Bokes eventually stops at a manor, about halfway down the street, and climbs the steps up the small rise all of the houses are sitting on. He climbs a second set of steps to the front door and knocks. A butler answers and admits Bokes immediately.

He shakes his head. "I've no head for magic. I have studied numerous artifacts of a magical nature but am not proficient in spellcasting. I'm simply a student of people, if you will."

I want to see if David knows anything about the street/building and also if he has any insight via his Urban Infrastructure background feature, like if the building is more then a plain building. Some check in case they are useful:

Investigation check: 16
History check: 24
Perception check: 7

History: 18

Both Vin and David know this is the area of town that Curtis Dron calls home. While neither is aware of his exact address, thereis a very high probability that this is where the villain lives.

"This Dron fella," Rixton repeats. "That's an interesting way to put it. As if you have never heard of him before. But everyone knows who he is. His is the most notorious name in Foxshadow and regions beyond. You are feeling out my ties to him, I think. Interesting. Well, you first."

The goliath glimpses the pair approaching. "Boss!" he yells in a low rumble. "Customers!"

The dwarf steps out of office while Ironwall turns back to his work. Rather than approach Aravor and Sharvon, he strides up to the goliath, glaring almost straight up at the giant man. "We've been over this," he says. "I am doing the books and then I am going home. No new orders after sundown."

The goliath hangs his head. "Sorry, boss," he says with a shrug.

The cranky dwarf heads back into the office without giving Aravor or Sharvon a second look. The goliath looks down at his cooling horseshoe and sticks it into the coals. He looks up apologetically. "Can you come back tomorrow?" he says.