It's My Way

Grumbleshanks paused before answering. "How do you suppose these common folk knew to use silver weapons?" Gurkirat nodded. "I've spent years in school and I don't know anything about these wererats. Someone must be tipping off these people as to what they face." "Precisely," Grumleshanks replied.

After another quick nod, Gurkirat headed in the direction of the nearest shopkeeper. With a slight pause, Grumbleshanks followed.

Intimidate (using perform(comedy) instead):

20+7 = 27 (!)

The shopkeeper was so taken aback by Gurkirat's abrupt appearance and threatening stance that he fell over backwards and shielded his face with his arms. "Whu-what ... *gulp* ... what do you want," he managed finally. "Where did you get your silver weapons," Gurkirat demanded.

Standing just behind Gurkirat, Grumbleshanks had to admire the ferocity of the gnome. Despite being half the size of the human on the ground, there was no doubt who was in control of the situation. This is something I could never do. Perhaps there's more use to this fellow than I expected.

Meanwhile, the spluttering shopkeeper finally was able to convey intelligible information. "From the man. The man in dark leathers. He smells of stink and filth." Gurkirat glanced over his shoulders at Grumbleshanks and nodded when their eyes met. Another reason to go to the sewers. Turning back to the shopkeep and softening his tone slightly he asked, "Where is this man?" The shopkeeper had used all his words and could only point. After thanking the man, the two set off in the direction he pointed to find this mysterious man who knew something of the wererats and cared enough to arm the civilians with appropriate weapons.