Finding the matron did not take long.
While the streets were empty, rumors spread quickly about a group of Grey Wardens landing in the city and curiosity was a powerful enough motivator, at least momentarily. Children peaked out of shuttered windows trying to catch a glance, with the occasional angry chastising and subsequent clatter of windows shutting echoing in the empty streets. The presence of one of their Rivaini sons among the numbers appeared to put many at ease though, the Rivaini were normally an overly accepting group, but on the eve of battle, manners were not particularly on anyone's mind.
Directions were finally garnered from a brave soul still willing to go about her day. She mumbled something about if she didn't mend the nets than there wouldn't be any fresh catch tomorrow, all but unconcerned about the darkspawn threat. But she pointed the group towards a district only a short walk away.
Despite being arguably the most influential person in the city, the matron's home was pleasant and homely compared to the gaudy extravagance of Antivan merchant lords. Hanging gardens wrapped around soft beige stone, giving the impression of warmth and a connection to nature. But whatever feelings her domicile might have elicited, the matron herself proved quite the opposite. Quickly shuffled into her presence in a small meeting hall, she eyed the wardens intently one by one calculating and deliberately passed the point of comfort. Jarrik shifted and cleared his throat after only a minute under her gaze.
She was clearly quite advanced in age, skin cracked to nearly the texture of bark from years in the sun, and just years in general, but a keen wisdom radiated from her as she spoke.
"Welcome, Wardens of the Grey. What brings you to my city?" She questioned from her perch on a simple chair at the head of the room. "Besides the obvious, that is." It was hard to tell if she chuckled or wheezed at her joke.