Swamped

"And does the muckbeast on stage have anything to do with this illegal distillery of yours?"

You aren't really expecting an answer. More of trying to throw him off his guard.

"I... I don't know! I'm just a chemist. I wouldn't even be here if the church hadn't kicked me out of my colony. I do what they tell me to do, and otherwise I keep to myself as much as I can."

Right. You forgot just how bad things were with the greblings back in the day - you weren't attentive enough in your youth. It wasn't just grebling-human relations, but the Church of Reth taking a rather expansive view of heresy. As you recall, you were born only about a decade after they'd shifted from execution to exile as the main punishment - not that it made a lot of difference when the only places you could be exiled to were human lands.

So it's entirely possible this poor grebling is nothing more than a slave to the troupe, and keeps his head down. But if that's true, then something strikes you as odd.

"And yet, you were left alone with the buyer," you note. "Seems a little strange to me that they'd let that happen. You're the one who knows how to actually make the drink, after all. What's to stop him from stealing the mallow that lays the silver egg?"

"Simple," says a voice from behind you. "When you're getting a large enough share of the profits, it doesn't make sense to disrupt the business model."

You realize you may have let this interrogation run a little longer than you should have.

You also realize that there's a crossbow pointing directly at you.