Lerissa, despite her contemplation of the woman’s dying words, was the only one who noticed a small metallic glint fall from the poor woman’s hand as the Halfling breathes her last.  The rest of the party, too distracted by the panic of the crowd, failed to see it.<br/><br/>Edwin had other things on his mind – hearing the words, as translated by Lerissa, immediately sparked a memory.  It wasn’t much – a vague recollection of a text he had once studied whilst researching an ancient Sarlonan schema.  He remembered something about a cult that called themselves the Harvesters, a cult dedicated to one of the ancient fiends of Sarlona.  He couldn’t quite recall which one, however.<br/><br/>Lita watched the crowd stalwartly, and though unable to determine any suspicious behavior amongst the panic, she was able to pick out the path the Halfling woman had taken into the building by tracking spotting the signs of blood on the floor and walls towards the back of the room.  She had come through the same service door that Dieza had come through not moments before.<br/><br/>Dieza rushed forward, and gathered the Halfling woman, still covered in the tablecloth set on her by Edwin, into her arms.  She was surprised at how little the woman weighed, her light frame obviously malnourished from life on the streets.<br/><br/>Meanwhile, Merelus found that he had definitely caught Dante’s attention.<br/><br/>“A dying prostitute?  In *my* establishment?  Take me to her,” Dante barked, and then a half breath later, considering who he was addressing, gave a shrug and added, “If you would, please.”<br/><br/>Dante was nothing if not polite to potential customers.<br/>