Nell Reede, daughter of Clive Reede and Carla Reede. Was long in the outskirts of Dihel. Went to her uncle's place and has been missing since.
Nash decided to follow along the path Nell travelled. First, he decided to go to her house.
A mud road leads to her house. The house itself was made using dirt. Fields of wheat surrounded the whole area. Nash knocked on the front door twice loudly. Clive came out covering his eyes to the sun.
"Yes?" Clive asked while wiping the sweat off his forehead.
"I am sorry to disturb you. I am the one investigating the missing of your daughter," Nash said bowing.
Clive's face lit up. "Thank you, sir."
"I am sorry, I will need some answers first. Is that alright?" Nash asked.
"Yes," Clive replied in a worried tone.
"It took me around one and a half days for me to get here. So your daughter has been missing for nearly two weeks. Am I correct?" Nash asked.
"Yes," Clive replied, looking down.
"Is there any chance that she might have stayed in some place on her journey?"
"There is an inn half a day's journey from here," live said.
"Is there any other place she might go to?" Nash asked looking around.
Clive got a bit angry, " My daughter won't go anywhere without telling us."
"What I meant was, are there no other houses around here?" Nash dodged the earlier answer.
Clive's eyes widened, "Well, houses are far and wide apart over here."
A woman slowly came behind Clive.
"Will you be able to find our daughter, sir," the woman asked crying.
"I will try my best madam," Nash said consoling her.
"I don't mean to be rude, but do have anything she wore?" Nash tried not to sound like a pervert.
The woman's eyes widened. But she wanted to find her daughter and the man in front of her was her hope. She went inside and brought back a shawl that she used to wear.
"That will be all. Can you point me in the direction of the inn," Nash asked.
Clive pointed to the east and Nash moved along the direction in his horse.
Nash reached the inn, which was less of an inn and more of a single-floor wooden shack. He tied his horse to a pole, hoping no one will steal it. He looked around and found that there was no one around to steal anything.
Nash entered the door and entered. The bell connected to the door ringed, signalling his entry. There were two tables. An old man was drinking mead in one of them.
The innkeeper was a lean middle ages man having jet black hair with grey peppered into it. He filled a mug with mead and placed it in front of Nash.
"I am not here to drink," Nash said looking at the mug.
"You either drink or you leave," the innkeeper said while wiping a mug.
Nash placed two pemphs on the table, grabbed the mug by the handle and sat on a chair.
"Mind if I ask? Do you remember a girl, with dark hair, black eyes and travelling alone two weeks back?" Nash asked taking a sip from the mug.
"You mean Nell?" the innkeeper asked.
Nash's eyes widened in surprise.
"Nothing to be surprised off. I get very few visitors over here and I remember them. Darling of a girl. She didn't have any friends, the place being like that. So she used to go to her uncle's place. Her father came a few days back asking about her. Why do you ask?" the innkeeper frowned.
"She is missing and I am looking for her," Nash said placing the mug on the table.
"Oh," the innkeeper showed his concern.
"Mind if I looked around a bit?" Nash asked.
"Take your time. Hope you find the girl," the innkeeper said waving his hand.
Nash looked around. The will of gem on his glasses glowed.
'I can sense the crux from the shawl in here, though faintly,' Nash muttered inside.
"Can I ask another question? Do you remember anyone weird or in any way standing out coming here? " Nash asked the innkeeper.
The innkeeper went into thought, with a cloth in one hand and his fingers tapping. He opened his mouth as if he remembered something.
"Now that you mentioned it, I remembered a man who came a day or two before Nell. Kept muttering about some great art or something, but I didn't understand. Anyway, I kicked him out."
Finally, a lead. Nash smiled at the new prospect.
"Do you remember anything else about him," Nash asked.
"Umm, he had a crooked nose and he was slouching a lot. And he had long hair, but it was balding," the innkeeper replied.
"Anything else," Nash asked expecting more.
"No," the innkeeper replied his sorry.
"It's alright," Nash said, got up from the chair and went outside. He untied the rope and got on his chair and suddenly the innkeeper came running.
"I remember that guy dropping this," he said handing Nash a brush.
Nash smiled and looked at the innkeeper," Thanks for everything."
"You find that girl," the innkeeper said in a serious tone.
The Wellse manor was located a day from Nash's current location and so he decided that to be his next destination.
The Wellse manor was a double-floored white building. A tall grey wall surrounded the manor. Nash knocked into the red iron gate three times. A maid wearing a white apron and a black dress came and welcomed him.
Nash entered inside, he saw a fountain spraying dew around it. He entered through the carved wooden door and saw Wilbur and a woman sitting on cushioned chairs. They signed Nash to sit in a chair opposite them. Their expressions were grim. The woman wiped tears off with a silk kerchief.
"I presume you are here in regards to my daughter's missing," Wilbur said looking at Nash.
"Yes sir," Nash said.
"You are famous in the capital finder, I hope that you can find my daughter," Wilbur said looking down.
"I am trying my best sir," Nash replied.
"Was there anyone who went with your daughter when she went shopping?" Nash asked.
Wilbur nodded to that and looked inside, "Bella."
A woman wearing a maid uniform came. Her golden hair was tied to a bun and covered by a white cloth. She bowed looking at Nash.
"She attends to Hallie. Bella, answer this man's questions," Wilbur said.
"What happened Bella?" Nash asked.
"Madam tends to run away at the miss of a glance. I got distracted and then..." She said wiping her tears.
He didn't have much to go on, so he pressed for more.
"Did anything particular happen on that trip?"
Bella placed her fingers on her chin, going through her mind. Her eyes widened realizing something.
"As you said, something did happen. A queer-looking man suddenly tried grabbing onto madam's legs while we were walking."
"Can you describe him?" Nash asked.
"He was a queer man indeed. He was slouching more than required. He had a crooked nose and a pimpled face. He kept calling us 'art defilers'. I don't know what that means," Bella replied.
'It could be the same man,' Nash thought.
"Thank you, ma'am. I think I am in the right direction," Nash stood up and left the manor.