Elaine Auclair, with her keen gaze, lingers by the bustling market square's edge, her eyes sweeping over the throng of people. Sunlight kisses the cobblestone with a warm, golden embrace, and the tantalizing aroma of bread fresh from the oven wafts from a nearby vendor. Despite the cheerful ambiance, she maintains a vigilant stance, her hand comfortably nestled on her sword's pommel. Experience has honed her instincts, and today they whisper to her to stay alert.

She leans against the fountain, pretending to take a moment to rest, but her mind stays sharp, picking apart the conversations around her for useful clues. A group of travelers passes by, and something about one of them catches her attention. They don’t look like the typical market-goers. Raising an eyebrow, Elaine quietly follows, weaving through the crowd.

When they stray down a less-frequented lane, she decides to act. "Pardon me. You seem a bit lost in the hustle. Could you share what brings you to this corner of the market?"