Areon 

Ragnar and Areon spot a hooded figure in a heavy cloak watching the party with particular interest. They don't seem deterred when they see Ragnar and Areon spot them and are quickly joined by five other figures similarly dressed in dark hoods. The new group begin walking down the street towards the party. They move with purpose but seem causally following the party.

"Are these the friends you made last night?" Ragnar asks the others, gesturing towards the approaching hooded figures. "How important is this incense, Tedbane?"

Ragnar turns to face the approaching figures. He's always been more partial to seeing what's coming than hoping he can out run it.

He looks to see if he spots any insignia or crests that might mark the group as less sinister than what they appear, but at the same time he makes sure his shield is fixed solidly in place.

Insight: 21   

Erika trains her eyes to the group now approaching, and taking the cue from Ragnar shifts her shield off her back, quickly binding it to her forearm in a practiced move. Her bearded battleaxe remains in its holster for the moment. "Hmm. Be ready for anything."

She tries to get a look at the group as they approach - is the dwarf or blue elf from yesterday among the group? Or anyone she recognizes from Duncan's? She is glad that her and Ragnar are on point... no one would have seen either tall Ygdridan during last night's events. Still, she tries to read the intent in the group as they move towards them, if they are like a coiled spring about to be released.

Insight: 11

Ted sighs as he knocks on the door. “I mean, the magic studies are meant to be our priority right? And we’re at the door! Look, we are in public and just getting on with our shop. Even the hardiest criminals know not to cause a scene in a crowd like this. And trust me, I know THE hardiest criminals you could ever meet.” He checks the faces of the figures to see if he recognises them, whilst trying to make it look natural and that he’s just casually waiting for the door to be answered. “Besides, it’s just gone around town that this guy fought off a crazed brute last night. If anywhere in town is safe, it’s here.”

Ragnar see nothing to indicate he knows this group in dark hooded robes. It's a cold morning and nothing about their movement to him advertisers ill intent. Erika too can not see anything in hooded figures without facial expressions visible or hearing words uttered to divine intention. Nothing currently visible about them seems amiss. They have not drawn weapons and are simply following the party at a distance which is odd. There's plenty of things about the party that makes them stand out in Timbergrove especially her use of the Institute name in the armory. There is one of the hooded figures she notices however that could be the right height for the dwarf but the others are mixed heights. One is very tall and broad shouldered a full head taller than the others that she most definitely doesn't recall from the night before.

Ted knocks....He no more that finishes his urging to go into the shop and the door creaks open of it's own accord!

The others are now paused as the party stands outside Maxillian's Mending. They watch but they aren't advancing.

Cautiously standing at the door, Ted leans his head in, a friendly grin on his face. “Hi, your sign said to knock. May we come in? I didn’t want to startle you since I heard about your misfortune with a bandit yesterday, strange times huh. Clarissa said you were the one to come to for incense, coal and a brazier.”

While Ted sticks his head inside the door, Ragnar looks over at the rest of his companions.

"Perhaps I'm jumping to conclusions, but I can't think of any times where strangers in hoods just standing and watching turned out to be nothing," Ragnar says. "I think I'll go over and see who they are and what they want."

Ragnar walks towards the hooded figures.

"Greetings friends," Ragnar says as he approaches them. "What brings your group out this early? And why all the hoods and hidden faces? Doesn't that make people nervous around you?"

"Doors open...come in...come in...," Ted hears a voice call from inside the dimly lit shop that smells of pungent herbs and incense burning as well as decay of some kind. 

In the square...

"Yeah, you could sort it out," a gruff voice says as the shortest among them pulls off his hood with a hard grimace revealing the face of a dark skinned dwarf. No one else in his group follows suit leaving hoods on and still not drawing weapons. "It's a cold day here outlander not like the frozen north you come from. We don't like the cold," he adds grinning. "Your friends there," he points to the party at Maxillian's door. "They came into Duncan's tavern last night and left without payment. Then to add insult to injury when they were pursued for that payment they attacked the patrons of Duncan's killing a man and wounding another with dark magic," he explains. "I don't know the laws of Ygdrida outlander but here in Embera we consider murder a serious crime," he explains as a murmur of agreement filters through the group. "The half-breed that did the killing is the only one we want. The rest fled like cowards I'm told and the sea elf...the caster," he pauses to look again at the party,  "seems to not be among you but we'll find her for her punishment," he explains next before resting both hands on his hips by two well made and adorned handaxe revealing fine black matte chainmail armor and a runic medallion with a single jeweled eye at its center. "You think you could hand him over without trouble or is there going to be trouble," he asks as the group begins to fan out in a crescent shape around Ragnar.

The tallest amongst them, nearly eight feet if Ragnar could guess, seems to flank the dwarf. Moving there head a gray skin chin sticking out of the hood with a distinctive black tattoo.

Theme

Ted scratches his ear as he enters the shop, “Aaah, itchy ear, they say it’s a sign somebody’s talking about you. Good things, I hope.” He chuckles. ”I’m in the market for some incense, herbs and charcoal, and a brass brazier to burn it in. From the smell of things, I’m guessing I’m in the right place? I have a budget of ninety gold pieces.” 

Ragnar sighs. Hope the leg holds out, he thinks to himself. This felt like it was going to be painful.

"Aye. Haven't found anywhere yet where murder wasn't a serious crime," Ragnar replies to the dwarf. "But I know of Duncan's by reputation, and I'd say that's a bit gray at best. I would think anything that came out of there has to be thought about carefully."

He looks at the tall figure and the others who have kept their hoods up.

"So am I looking at mob justice in front of me or do you have some sort of official capacity here?"

Aware that Zira is waiting, Ragnar is doing his best to keep this calm. Otherwise this would already be half over, one way or the other.

He slowly flexes and relaxes his muscles in his arms, shoulders and legs while he waits for a response.

Trixi-Molle was not shopping but provided "moral support" by "standing around and look pretty" (she was also still curious about the shop, that made their companion to leave the expedition. She did not interfere with the conversation, just looked and listened.

"Official capacity? So, let me get this straight. You'd rather all be in a jail cell dragging your little institutes name in the dirt than give us the one man who's responsible for killing our friend? This...this is your decision? Do you speak for everyone Ygdridanian or just yourself," the dark skinned dwarf asks stroking his ornately braided and decorated short beard with a tattooed hand that's also a single eye. He's wearing a large onyx ring with clusters of rubies on either side of the black stone on his pointer finger. "See I'm no diplomat but I know I speak for every one of my companions," he begins again motioning to the group around him, "when I say give up the man or offer us something worthy of our friend's life as repayment. The alternative is bloodier and will get all your party even the ones already a head in the mountains killed. That bronze dragonborn...really easy to see," he adds his smirk widening as his hands once again go to his hips just above the handaxes.

The semi circle is formed Ragnar can only back up now but he's nearly surrounded on all sides.

OOC: For scale the party we'll say is 60ft away at Maxillian's. Good thing for Ragnar is everyone is in melee distance of him but bad thing is everyone is in melee distance, you understand?

Quote from Killilli >>

Ted scratches his ear as he enters the shop, “Aaah, itchy ear, they say it’s a sign somebody’s talking about you. Good things, I hope.” He chuckles. ”I’m in the market for some incense, herbs and charcoal, and a brass brazier to burn it in. From the smell of things, I’m guessing I’m in the right place? I have a budget of ninety gold pieces.” 

"We have those things and plenty of other things for a young wizard training such as yourself," a raspy voice comes from behind the counter before a gnome appears with long white hair wearing a blue set of robes. "My nephew informed me of the business last night. I can't say he doesn't tended to overreact with you big folk," he adds with a nod. The gnome looks positively ancient. He hobbles up on the stool next to a tea cup stirring itself. "Conjuring up a familiar I assume based on the components you seek boy," he adds in his still raspy tone donning a set of spectacles with several interchangeable lens that he clicks and clicks until his eyes are very magnified so he looks almost insect like. "That's going to be...50 gold pieces," he adds next.

Above Ted he hears the fluttering of wings.

Ragnar lets out a very hearty and very Viking laugh.

”Ha ha. Now we get down to it. This is a shakedown. You could care less about your friend. You want gold.You say you will kill us all, but what price are you willing to pay for the glory of that tale. How many of you will be sitting in Valhal tonight? Because I wager half of you will be on your asses before you manage to make me sweat.”

Ragnar smiles at the dwarf.

”This is your only warning. Heed it now or feel the wrath of the Lord of Storms.”

Ragnar takes one step back and begins moving his shield in the shape of a small lightning bolt, calling upon the powers granted to him that day in the icy cold northern sea.

Ted can take an educated guess as to what the fluttering means. “So you are.... familiar with the spell.” Ted smiles proudly, looking between the Trixi and the gnome waiting for a laugh as he hands over the gold. “I am in a bit of a rush, but if you have any tips for a first timer like me, I’m all ears. I’ve got a bit of theory under my belt, but it’s as yet untested.”

Ted opens his bag ready to take his shopping and move on as quickly as possible, he doesn’t need any more marks against his name.

(Trixi meanwhile immediately turned to the sound of the wings fluttering.)

"Yes avoid conjuring toads...completely useless unless you like fey warts," the gnome says still tottering with laughter from Ted's pun. He's moving slowly with the speed of a wizen old gnome taking Ted's gold and going for the supplies next. "Now let's see here," the old gnome says walking with a cane from around the counter towards a towering wall of spell components and other things Ted can only assume are used in magic in some way or another. 

The gnome takes a good ten minutes to assemble Ted's purchase.

Meanwhile Trixi please roll a perception check.

Perception: 12