"What? No, silly! We're a society of adventurers and explorers, who travel all over the world, exploring, learning, righting wrongs...I've been meaning to check in with my Venture-Captain, but I just can't seem to get around to it..."

"...Huh." 

"I admit I don't get out much, but even I'd heard of the Pathfinders." 

"You'd also heard of the Worldwound." 

"True." 

"You hadn't heard of the Worldwound?" 

"I'm from a tiny village in Iobaria. Or, not even from the village itself, my Mama reared me in the forest outside the village. I'd heard of Sarkoris, across the Lake of Mists and Veils, and I'd heard something awful had happened to it, but I had no idea what until demons kidnapped me and dumped me outside of Kenabres." 

"Wow. That must have been quite a shock."

"Yeah. And then demons attacked the city en masse, which is the hubbub you heard." 

"Wait, what? The last thing I saw was some thieves breaking in here. Then the guards came and there was a huge fuss and--well, I don't know too much about how it all shook out, I got trapped under this bookcase pretty early on in the scuffle."

"You saw the break-in?" 

"Yes, but--I don't think I could identify any of the perpetrators. Even before I got trapped, it was pretty dark--I could tell that at least some of them were tieflings, I think, but not much else. Anyway, if there are demons in Kenabres, we've got to do something. Can I come with you? I don't think I'll be able to do much on my own, but I'm sure I can be useful--I'm what they call a phantom blade. It means a spirit took a liking to me at some point, and can turn into any weapon at all." 

"A spirit, you say..." 

"That's right!"

"Lann is the only one here who doesn't cast some kind of spells, and he's an archer--can you do a longbow?"

"Sure can!" 

And then instead of a crossbow, there is a longbow. 

Lann picks him up, a little doubtfully--he's never wielded a weapon that's a person before--but brightens as he grasps the bow. "Nice." 

A little smugly: "Thanks! I'm good at what I do." 

"Daeran, I found paper!" Lusilla calls from where she's drifted over to the erstwhile desk. 

"What a day this has been." He starts sketching the lineup he glimpsed in the Thieflings' hideout. 

Woljif peers over his shoulder. "Hey, don't put me in there!" he protests. 

"Oops. My mistake," Daeran snickers, erasing the half-finished shape of an extra figure. 

While Daeran draws suspects and Camellia asks Finnean questions Lusilla should maybe be concerned about about what kind of bloodshed creates the kind of spirits that attach to phantom blades, Lusilla wanders around the shop, vaguely hoping that one of the Thieflings will have decided to draw a demonic unholy symbol and Woljif will be able to identify their handwriting--hand-drawing? Whatever, it's a longshot but it would be a shame to not even try. 

It's a little startling that the busted-up golem is, apparently, still active; but it wants a codeword that she, obviously, doesn't have, and then refuses to respond once this is established. 

Having found nothing of note, she wanders back over to Finnean, and decides to kill two birds with one stone: she can see if there's anything else, and interrupt Camellia from asking questions with a frankly unnerving light in her eyes. 

"Hey, is there any more to this place than just this room?" 

"Well, there's the basement. I'm afraid I never went down there, though." 

"But it's right underneath the shop?"