"'m not hurt." Daryl mumbles through a mouthful of soup.
The barkeep looks scandalised that you would imply that he would call the baron a 'fella'. "No... the fella the baron sometimes meets with. He brings news from... around. I think he is a spy or something? He does not live around here."
Your request for a description is met with general agreement: "He is a jolly fella. Always seems to be smiling. Anyone know how he gets here?" --a general shaking of heads. "Strange. He is not exactly 'spry'. A bit, um, large around the middle if you know what I mean." The barkeep says, which is a bit rich coming form him, with his sedentary belly-fat. "He just seems to turn up and then vanish into the night. Always at night. The baron turns up and he is here."
"Look mate. No hard feelings, yeah." One of the men says to Albert. Indicating Daryl he explains: "He said he was with you. We was just doing what the baron said. Apparently you were there? You where amongst the last people to see the girl? You dined with the mayor and his daughter just before she vanished?"
Again that same pattern of words. Technically true, but not quite.
What do you do?