The door is indeed locked, as the store is most definitely closed at this time. A few moments pass after Ember calls out for someone, and eventually, the sounds of steps and creaking floorboard can be heard on the other side of the door. You hear a voice respond to you. It sounds old and a little bit raspy, but it is not familiar to the little wizard.

"Heh…Good evening. I’m sorry, we’re currently closed at this time. Come back tomorrow, and I’ll be happy to help you find what your looking for."

"Please, the girl is looking for her grampa, he's been here and we need help finding him, now." Thurodim says, motioning to the little one for a good description, trying to find a good balance between sounding polite and threatening to break the man's every bone if he wasn't helpful.

Cork pokes his head out from behind Thurodim, his beady black eyes examining the door.  

He sets down his rolling trunk and crosses his feathered arms, implying that he and his troupe is not going anywhere.

Ember presses her face to the crack in the door and rapidly adds, "Mr. Bruggs sent us! He said someone else said that someone else said a gnomish wizard was here, his name is Grandp--er, um... Zulgrim and I'm his grandaughter--Ember Grandaughter!"

Ozyre comments at the door, "If it in any way affects your impression of ourselves and therefore your future actions, we just so happen to count a travelling researcher from the great Saint Jaquelle Memorial Library among our number. Not to mention (even though that's exactly what I'm doing) I personally hail from a different library, though certainly of less renown. It's called..." Ozyre spends just a moment to recall the name of his place of employment and take a breath. "The Wraknopnueckebtigne Repository of Items for Learning and Thinking and Discussing and Whatnot, Primarily Through Words and Word-Like Phenomena."

From the other side of the door, the same voice responds to Thurodim.

"I feel deeply sorry for the young girl, but I don't understand how you expect me to help. Many people come into my shop. How would I know her grandfather?", he asks.

As he's about to leave, the mention of Zulgrim is followed by a few seconds of silence, then you begin to hear the rustling of keys, locks and padlocks. Finally, the door opens slowly, revealing an older gnome with a well-trimmed goatee and a large nose on which rests a pair of spectacles. He wears a night cap and a light shirt of the color blue. He looks at Ember, quizzically.

"Zulgrim? You know my cousin? His granddaughter? He never mentioned anything about a daugther, much less a granddaughter."

He looks you up and down, not entirely convinced by what you claim. The fact that you're a human claiming to be the granddaughter of a gnome seems to puzzle him. That and your general demeanor and appearance are leaving him stumped.

As Ozyre speaks up, his attention turns to the other gnome.

"Ah yes! I've heard of this institution. I believe my god-daughter had an internship there once."

Listening to Ozyre's recitation of his own employment, Cork tilts his head at the gnome to squint with a black, beady eye.  From his beak comes a surprised and slightly oafish voice, asking, "... Are you serious, Clark?..."

Ember looks equally as quizzically at the gnome. She's briefly defensive--"Well, he didn't tell me about you either,"--before the bookkeeper's words register.

She bursts in Gnomish, "[Wait! You are COUSINS]!?" Her feet tippy tap on the stoop, seemingly holding back the hug she wants to give the old gnome, "[That--that means you're my cousin too]!" It's then that Aggie pops his head out of Ember's mess of hair, ears perked towards the cousin.


((Any chance Aganazzar would know the gnome or vice versa, DM? Since he was originally Zulgrim's familiar?))

Ozyre assumes a sagely position and responds calmly to Cork's comment. "Across all the ages and all the lands, many things have been said about us gnomes. Yet, through all that time, we have never been accused of skimping out on names. Except one time, 527 and a half years ago. We have neither forgiven nor forgotten."

Noticing the gnome through the door's confusion, Ozyre decides to take a bit of explanation into his own hands. "She's a foundling that your cousin took in. And taught some not-unimpressive wizardries to, so watch out!"

The massive blonde warrior takes a step back, scratching his beard, realizing he had mixed feelings about the little one finding her uncle so soon. The company of his new small friends had been a welcome one, but perhaps it was time for him to continue his journey now. He would still have the company of Mr. Bleeches he thought, taking up his friend from his pocket to cradle him in his large palm as he offered him a small cookie from his other pocket.

The old gnome squints his eyes as if trying to get a better look at the red-haired wizard. He still seems to process this news. However, when Aggie pops its head out of the mane of wild hair, it as if all previous worries seemingly disappear. "Aganazzar? Then…it’s true. You do know Zulgrim."

He goes to grab Ember’s hands and shake them as vigorously as a man his age possibly can. "You said your name was…Ember, right? I’m Cormorn. A pleasure to meet you." Ember can tell from the wrinkles in his face that this gnome is older than her foster grandfather.

He shivers a little. "Would you all like to come in so we could continue this conversation inside? The evening seaside air is too cold for these old bones. Or perhaps you would prefer to come back tomorrow? I know it’s getting late. I can close shop for tomorrow and will have all the time to talk."

Aganazzar jumps to the old gnome, skittering around his shoulders and chatting away. His ward's eyes well up as her new cousin Cormorn shakes her hands. "It's n-nice--" she sniffles, "--nice to meet you too!" 

As he offers for them to join him inside, she looks back to the others with big wet puppy eyes. They've had a long few days so she'll understand if they'd all like to rest now, but it's clear she won't be able to wait until morning to find out what he has to say. 

The puppy eyes would have the desired effect on the massive blonde bearded warrior and he reluctantly nods and grunts, gently pocketing Mr. Bleeches again together with his cookie, ready to follow the others inside the bookshop, hoping to find somehwere inside to rest his weary legs.

"We've had a pretty long day. Which means there's no harm in making it a bit longer!" Ozyre gives "go on" gesture to Ember and follows into the bookstore after her.

With that encouragement, Ember smiles wide and scurries into the shop to immediately look around for any sign of Grandpa, even sniffing at the air for his scent as she flits about. 

Cork follows into the bookshop.  Upon seeing the proprietor, he bows and offers "... Thank you very much..." in a mousy voice.  While the objective here is Ember's quest, he can't help himself but to glance about to see what is kept on the shelves.

He stifles a quiet yawn.

The party enters the bookstore, and behind them, the gnome locks the various padlocks on the door before following them inside.

The inside of the shop is relatively modest. Thurodim has no choice but to lean forward to pass his massive frame through the door made by a gnome who intended to have standard human clients. The inside of the store is lit by a candle held by the gnomish proprietor. Three of the four walls are covered with books standing on shelves. They are sorted alphabetically, with each shelf being dedicated to a different type of writing. Encyclopedias, novels, essays, even a few textbooks. There are also two tables set on opposite sides of the room on which rests some more tomes labeled as "librarian’s favorites". If nothing else, this store seems quite orderly.

At the back of the store is an opened door leading to an ascending staircase. Cormorn is slowly making his way over to that door.

"Please, excuse the mess.", asks the gnome. "I evidently wasn’t expecting guests this evening. Come, we will be more comfortable in my office."

"It's okay! We slept on the floor in a house full of dead people and then we went to this old creepy ruins place to fight some monsters from the ABYSS!" Multiple times Ember walks ahead of the gnome then doubles back, trying her very best to be patient with the bookkeeper's pace. "We can be comfortable anywhere!" 

Aganazzar sprawls across Cormorn's shoulders like a furry stole, though his beady eyes closely track Ember as she moves about the room. The whole patience thing seems to be a losing battle as she asks, "Was Grandpa here?" 

Cork lingers behind, his head cocking this way and that, glancing at the different shelves.  He looks from his allies to the books... back to his allies... back to the books... and then with another mute sigh hurries along to catch back up to the rest of the group.

Thurodim is too weary to even look for books with poems, instead simply lumbering after the owner of the shop, following the others upstairs with slow heavy steps.