Surprisingly accommodating interrogation

The next morning you head to the sheriff's office. You're pretty early. The sun is only halfway visible at the end of the horizon. You had to claw your way out of the iron grip of Emily and Claire, who had nuzzled themselves completely into your sides over the course of the night. But when nature calls, you better answer. And since you were up anyway, you might as well get the day started.

You carefully open the door. It lets out a faint squeak as it slowly swings open. Aayesha is slumped over the desk, fast asleep. After the jailbreak the night before, she must have chosen to stay up all night making sure the kobolds didn't plan another way to make the lives of the last few citizens of The Last Post as miserable as possible. Surprisingly, you find yourself impressed. You may not care much about law and order, but the dedication is admirable.

You decide to let her sleep for a while. It's not like you can't watch over the cells in the meantime. You tread quietly around her desk and carefully remove her hat from the top of her arms, where it had dislodged in her slumbering state.

"There is no need to be that stealthy." you hear from the cells behind you: "When that woman is out, it takes a cannon shot to wake her up again. Did the same thing last night, and it didn't matter how much the idiots over there made a fuzz about their dead colleague."

You turn around and stare into the eyes of Trisha, the gargoyle you had a tussle with the day you got here. Her voice is almost as gruff as yours but in a higher register. Her long wavy gray hair has been set loose to fall down upon her spry frame. Athletic, but not as muscular as yourself. She is still wearing the same simple getup as the day you fought her. A black shirt strained by her well-endowed chest fails to cover up her belly button. The shirt is partly covered by a dusty open brown jacket. Below she is wearing sturdy boots and fairly average worker pants. Her spaded tail has loosely tied itself around her left leg covering up the bullet hole. She has been tightly cuffed together at bottom of her immense wings. Not that she could take off anyway, but it helps knowing she can't flap her wings and take off as soon as the cage has been opened. The kobolds from the neighboring cells look like they want to say something snide, but wisely chooses not to. As you stare daggers into her red eyes, you ponder the intention of her remark. Is she really just making small talk, or is there something deeper here?

"How long has she been out?" you decide to ask to test the waters.

"Well, there is no clock in here, and I've kinda lost my sense of time being stuck in this cell, but I'd wager about an hour or two."

You nod, then speak: "Anything interesting happening in that time?"

"No." she croaks as she looks in the direction of the kobolds: "The cowards over there have just sulked in their own misery since you killed their leader."

You look over to the bandits in question. They do look downtrodden. Like they have accepted their fate of always having their view marred by iron bars.

"I'm assuming the sad sacks of shit are mercenaries?" you inquire.

"Yeah, the boss hired them to carry out this job. Waste of money it turns out."

"Can I ask why you even did it in the first place?"

You don't know if you've warmed her up enough for this question, but you try your luck anyway.

"That depends." she says a small smirk forming on her face: "The pouch of money I had when you knocked me out, what happened to it?"

"The sheriff gave it to me, and I gave it to Claire."

"Claire?"

"The girl who lost her parents because of you." you cut. You can see Trisha wince a bit at the accusation.

"Good." she replies: "Although it wasn't my idea to shoot her parents, I should have vetted the mercenaries better. She has my condolences."

"Yeah, I bet that would make everything good again." you sarcastically reply: "How do you even know she exists? She was hiding under her bed at the time."

"Her mom..." she says, her voice getting a bit somber: "After she was shot, she was dragged into the streets as a scare tactic for the rest of the town. She wasn't quite dead, however. She managed to whisper something about "not hurting her little girl". Since I like to honor the last wishes of the dead, and since I didn't want any more unnecessary blood on my hands anyways, I managed to convince the pyromaniacs to leave her alone."

You nod. You're not quite sure if you understand the inner workings of this woman. Her moral compass seems all over the place, not that you're one to judge. You can think of several scenarios where you and Trisha could have ended up on the opposite sides of the cell door.

"So, have I earned my reward?" you ask.

"Yeah... I guess I can't make you promise me not to tell the sheriff, right?"

"Not really."

"Figures. Well, I did promise." She didn't actually, but you're in no hurry to correct her: "The boss wanted me to catch that bartender to help her fund her plan."

"'Fund her plan'?" you raise an eyebrow. You also note that the boss is a woman.

"Yeah, the dark elf wasn't really a goal in and of itself. Apparently, certain people would pay good money for her or something."

"Are dark elves that valuable?"

"I don't really dabble in slavery or prostitution, but as far as I know, not really. I don't know if the boss has found someone willing to pay well above average, or if there is something about this particular girl that's valuable."

"So what is your boss's plan?"

"Heh, I can't tell you that... 'cause I don't know. She is kind of an enigma."

"You seriously have no idea?"

"Between you and me, I think she is looking for someone. And she has gotten a bit jumpier as we have moved north, so I think we're getting close. Plus, she keeps raising money for weapons and mercenaries, so she is probably expecting a fight. I'm guessing she is trying to bag a big shot from Undercreek. Maybe that new mayoral candidate or that uppity water baron. Heck, could even be The Orphan Queen herself."

You know nothing about the culture or politics of Undercreek... or any place for that matter, unless you count the orc camp or The Last Post (and you're not entirely sure if you should), so what she is saying means little to you. You decide to question her own personal motives instead.

"And what about you? What do you get out of this? Money?"

"It's... a lot more complicated than that."

"You're not gonna tell me." you say more as a statement than a question.

"No." is the blunt answer.

In all honesty you're surprised she wanted to tell you this much. You started out this conversation wondering what her deal is, and by the end of it you have not gotten any closer to finding out.

"Why are you telling me all this?" you ask.

"Hmmm...." she thinks: "Potential, mostly. Let's just call it an old habit and leave it that."

"Fine." you relent. You are about to ask her about how she got in contact with the kobold gang and how they escaped the previous night, when you hear something. You move towards the sheriff.

"Hey, are you already leaving? I talked for a long time, and you haven't told me anything about yourself." the gargoyle whines in a surprisingly earnest matter.

You shake the lamia girl awake.

"Hey, Aayesha wake up!" you yell.

"Huh, what?" Aayesha slowly comes out of her sleeping stupor: "Oh man, how long have I been snoozing?"

"It doesn't matter right now, we might have a situation." you tersely answer.

"Huh?" she jolts awake: "What is it?"

"I can hear horses outside. At least two carriages. Maybe more."