"Do you happen to know where any of them live?"

"What, do you think they're stupid? If any of them have boltholes outside the gang's hideout--and they probably do--I've never seen 'em." 

"Hmmmmmm...was everyone on the list of people who were in the know at the hideout?"

"Yep, they were the ones along the wall, right by Kerismei. You know, if I were Irabeth's informant, she wouldn't've caught anyone for real. Does that sound like Irabeth to you?"

"I mean, no, but I'm already pretty convinced by Anevia's attitude towards you that you didn't do it, so like, maybe memorize that one in case you have to make more excuses to Kerismei later."

"Oh, I definitely will." 

"I don't suppose you're any good at drawing..." 

"You need me to sketch the layout of a building, I'm okay. You want pretty pictures, not so much." 

"I'm alright at it. What are you thinking?"

"Well, I was thinking we could maybe draw pictures of them, and ask any cultists we happen to beat up if they recognize them, but you didn't get a good look..."

"I may have peeked around the corner." 

"Man, you're really lucky Sister Kerismei didn't spot you. If she saw someone trying to hide like that, it's even odds she'd shoot first and ask questions never."

"Okay...we'll need paper..." 

"There's no way Old Man Fylleman doesn't keep paper in his shop. And if we go there, it might have clues! Or stuff we can use to frame a cultist." 

"I'm going to tentatively say that sounds good...show me where it is on the map?" 

She takes out her low-quality map. 

Woljif points it out. 

"Alright, that's more or less on the way to the Tower of Estrod from here. Let's go."

The shop, when they reach it, has already been thoroughly ransacked. To what extent that's the Thieflings and to what extent that's random looters, Lusilla doesn't know. 

They're a little ways into the shop when a voice calls out:

"Hello? Is anyone there?" 

"--Yes, hello, are you alright?"

"I'm stuck! Please, help me out!" 

His voice is sort of muffled, and coming from that pile of stuff over there. 

Lusilla rushes forward to help--lifting things out of the way carefully--she's so preoccupied looking for a humanoid shape in the rubble that she almost doesn't notice when she pulls out a very fancy crossbow. 

"Phew, free at last! I thought I'd be flattened like a pancake under there! Much obliged! What's with all the hubbub in the city, I've heard a lot of ruckus while I was trapped under there--but where are my manners. Name's Finnean, I'm a Pathfinder! If I can do anything to help, just let me know!" 

"A Pathfinder?"

"That's right, Finnean Dismar, Pathfinder and crusader. I roam around the Worldwound wherever my tasks lead me. Scouting, mostly, though--I have been hanging around in Kenabres for a while, come to think of it. It's boring, but at least this shop has better lodgings than some inn." 

"No, I mean, what's a Pathfinder, is it a kind of talking weapon?"