Kirsten stood aghast as despite her best effort to control the increasingly more chaotic situation her comrades committed themselves to looting. Any pretence at a meaningful search of the thugs belongings was gone so she concentrated on the Forman, he at least would play the game. The foreman proved to be a man of weak resolve, after being held hostage he at least was compliant handing over his few possessions for inspection, none of which resembled a treasure of any kind least of all a cursed gem.
The looters soon discovered the contraband that was left. Piles of pipe weed stamped with the crest of a Marienburg family who surely had never been paid. Crates containing bottles of cheap Estalian wine made cheaper still for lack of duty paid. Straw wrapped bottles of Bretonian Brandy destined for the tables of the rich of Middenheim.
When Malmir returned demanding answers the foreman alone remained to answer and was as compliant with the elf as with the young thief. “The boss and his boys they is worried. And the others, they tried to get in here but we had to stop them. They never been like that before, all fired up like damnation itself was after them. Ask the boss he knows I’m sure, just let me go. I’ve a wife and our daughters little’uns to look after.”