Marten furrows his brow, but still keeps his focus on the combat in the yard as he answers somewhat gruffly, "Well me lock wasn't broken, and then it was, lad, so I'm pretty sure I'm knowin' it."

Briny frowns thoughtfully. "You say it's broken? That would seem to indicate that not much skill was involved. I would think that an accomplished thief would be able to pick a lock instead of breaking it. Is there anything else you can remember, anything out of the ordinary?"

"Anything else that was broken?" Sylyra adds. "Any tracks or marks that were left that we can look at?"

OOC: So sorry for my schedule this week. I'll be trying to post at least once a day this week.

Marten finally takes his eyes off of the training grounds long enough to say, "Ye gotta understand a lot o' people come through here in a day. Wasn't nothin' out o' the ordinary, but there ain't much in a trainin' yard that is ordinary. The thief could've left tracks but so do the dozens o' people that come through in a day. I tell ye with confidence though that nobody that gets trained by me would be dumb enough to steal from me."

Sylyra bites his lip against a retort and turns to watch the skirmish to wait until the others decide it's time to leave this dead end.

OOC: Ready to advance once the next action is posted.

"Hmm, well it doesn't seem there's much else we can glean here. We should go speak with the other victims. Thanks for all your help, Marten."

Once the party has headed out of the practice yard, Hex would suggest they head to Agin Lamarck's shop, "We should try to catch him before he heads home."

Briny nods in agreement. "It's probably easier to catch him at his shop, and maybe I can buy some more paper while we are there. Or maybe a journal."

Stepping out of the practice yard, Sylyra looks around. Is there anything/anyone around that might have seen someone breaking in or at least acting suspicious on the outside?

OOC: Trying to get back to a daily pace, I promise.

For Sylyra, it doesn't appear that there is anyone with any "station" outside of the practice yard. It's sequestered on its own on the edge of Podol Plaza; there are still a fair number of townsfolk that are on the streets walking nearby, but they all appear to be in motion from one place to another.

Holding off on advancing to Agin Lamarck's shop for the moment since Sylyra is still looking around the practice yard and we haven't heard from Uragum yet. Will advance when that seems to be wrapping up.

"My pleasure," Marten says, turning his eyes back to critique the sparring match in the practice yard. "If ye're needin' anything else, ye can find me here."

OOC: I'm going to assume if there was a shop or some other business or home that is nearby and might contain a witness, you would have mentioned that.

Sylyra sighs. "Let's hope the next place has a little more information," he says to no one in particular.

OOC: Yep, I'd have mentioned landmarks like that. Since we haven't heard from Uragum in so long, I'll assume he has nothing to add here and move us onward.

The end of Podol Plaza near Agin Lamarck's shop is quieter, set away from the busier thoroughfares. The small building's front door opens into a small, cramped office. Looking within, you can see a number of different heraldic banners from the walls, each hanging above what looks like a gaudily-decorated family tree set into a frame.

"Oh, hello there," a handsome human male deadpans over the sounds of pages turning and the scratching of quill on paper. Paper, ink, and glue register to your nostrils in the shop, which is well-lit by many candles at the late hour. "I'm very excited to be a part of this," he says with a sarcastic look on his face.

The man wears the fine silk clothes and linen of a nobleman, with long black hair framing his narrow face. He has piercing green eyes that seem to be made especially for looking at people with contempt. He wears no less than half a dozen gaudy rings on his fingers, one of them bearing the sigil of a golden crown over a red faceplate.

((Would Briny know anything about that sigil?))

"Good evening, so sorry to bother you so we will try to be quick and thorough. We have been given a report from Cassra Brandywine at the Mantor's Library about a stolen book, and we are looking into it in conjunction with a couple of other book thefts. Would you mind telling us in your own words what happened?" She starts to take out her quill again and then sighs as she remembers she is out of paper. "I may need to purchase some writing paper before we leave, but I can assure you that I have a very good memory."

I'm curious about the ring as well.

Sylyra can't help but smile at the snooty male. He isn't sure why he's never met this Agin Lamarck before. Birds of a feather and all that. "We assume you are Agin Lamarck," the elf says, deliberately mispronouncing the name in an "elves think they're better than humans" kind of way. His arms are bent at the elbows so his right index and thumb can play with and draw attention to the gold, onyx and emerald signet ring creating the Wasanthi coat of arms on the middle finger of his left hand. "Or am I misunderstanding the look of disdain on your face for that of an overpaid hireling? At any rate, if there's someone more important we should be talking to about this matter, please fetch them and stop wasting our time."

Upon greeting who is presumably Agin Lamarck, Hex glances at Sylyra with a slightly amused look on her face. "It's like I'm looking at the human version for you, Sylyra."

OOC: Starting to make my rolls in separate posts now until the dice manipulation bugs have been worked out (if ever). If you see a post that contains rolls but barely has any info, don't worry, the post with actual resolution will follow shortly.

Briny INT: 20
Sylyra INT: 19

For Briny:

For Sylyra:

"You assume correctly," Agin says with a slight eye roll. Reaching his hand out to shake Sylyra's, the man studies the elf's ring carefully. "A transplant, if I am not mistaken. Welcome to the grand city of Phlan, bastion of the Moonsea," his words drip with sarcasm as he turns to Briny.

"Lords and Lineages of Phlan," he says. "A catalogue of every noble house that has resided within Phlan, dating back some seven hundred years; truly a thriller from start to finish. The book had been in my family for two of those seven centuries. I couldn't tell you exactly what occurred. The book was secured within a drawer in my desk that was locked and protected by powerful spellcraft. And now, it is simply gone."

"Sylyra Wasanthi of Waterdeep," the elf says, smiling the smile of one expecting to impress.

"If the drawer was locked and protected, perhaps the book was stolen by someone who had access." He makes a vague motion toward the room at large.

"Can you think of any connection that book may have had to the two other missing books? They were a treatise on the Weave and the personal memoir of Ren of the Blade, a famous citizen of Phlan."

"No, couldn't be that," Agin says offhand to Sylyra. "Nobody has access but me. Whoever did this possessed great skill."

To Hex, his face scrunches in thought before answering, "I can't imagine what. The book is rare and old, but it's little more than a collection of lineages and notes made by scribes of past and current noble houses. Perhaps some of those houses had something to do with either of those books? Certainly nothing I am aware of."