[Snorting back a laugh, Quentin nods and takes a quick look around the room. There's a lot of lanterns here, enough for it to be possible to take pictures at least.]

Someone should have taken names at the door. Pictures. I mean, we can't exactly trust that people are who they say they are? But. It's a start?

[Someone should have catalogued them as they got off the ferry, before everyone got their barrings and scattered all over. Sure, it's a small town and there's probably not that many places to hide, but still-- no one seems to know anything. There's no pooled knowledge, no research team. Just a few people trying to get in to a pissing contest about who should rule, when it's so very obvious it should be Eliot.]

Are you new here, too?