Generally speaking, Morgana's puppets and dolls go on a scale of combat to non combat. There are exceptions, but those are  unique.

For the humanoid scale, it goes like this:

On the fully combative side, there's the puppets that Aranwen has seen - proportions are outside that expected of humanoid, generally longer and thinner arms, magically reinforced in strength and durability, and its movements are incredibly shifty and jerky; no effort is made to conceal its nature, aside wearing a cloak or other loose clothing about it. Let's call these the alpha puppets.

Midway between combat and noncombat is the puppet Ch'dau and Kithran just fought - proportions match any of the races, depending on the specific puppet design. More likely to be overlooked in a crowd because the shape is right, and it generally moves in the right way, but it is still ball-jointed and can move in unusual ways. Sometimes she reinforces the deception with an illusion, to better disguise this kind of puppet in a crowd, ie disguise self type effect, but usually she just has them with cloaks or other loose clothing. Let's call these the beta puppets.

Finally, there's the noncombative dolls - they blend in extremely easily with people, aside the aforementioned traits - dull/distant eyes, always with a gemstone at their forehead, typically disguised by jewelry, and colder temperature than normal. Morgana often hides their eyes in some way. These are her crystal dolls. She does not have many of them.

Morgana does have and play with smaller felt dolls, usually for her own amusement.

By all accounts, the shopkeeper does seem human. Short sleeves show visible skin, no visible ball joints, smells human, and seems to be breathing. She wears an apron as well as part of her outfit, her face obscured by a white veil.

Mosic commented noticing the sparkle of presumably jewelry underneath the veil, but definitely not a black mask.

This kind is the most lifelike of Morgana's dolls. They generally have no particular combat advantages, but are particularly effective at subterfuge. The most identifying trait for them is the jeweled circlet they wear, eyes that seem oddly dull or distant and unfocused, and being colder to the touch than might be expected. 

Psh, that's what higher con is for

Is what I would say to be silly  will make a post for Aranwen following Gib's advice later

I just realized I didn't actually write the shopkeeper's presence in that post; made a minor edit showing her posture afterwards 

I am really liking Asovil, and you've really made the entire science department feel alive.

Makes me want to take notes in the event I were to cover science in a future game

I did take a few liberties with the beginning of that interrogation, but Morgana was stalling and I figured someone would be like 'why don't you talk already?'

Felt like Kithran would be the most likely one to do so given she asked the questions in the first place

I hope that was okay

The puppet fell away from Ch'dau once Kithran's dagger had severed the threads that held its leg to its torso, causing the ball joint there to fall apart. The threads it was weaving faded into the aether, and the puppet collapsed onto the ground with a thud.

Tch. Almost.

The puppet lay lifeless, unmoving, as the three loomed over it.

"It appears I've won, actually. You do not seem like one of the slitch's goons. Who are you? How do you know who we are?" Kithran asked it.

Morgana did not answer. Just about the only sound in the apothecary now was the sound of their own breathing, and a soft grinding sound, almost like the puppet was breathing as well. The silence was almost deafening in its completeness.

"I asked you a question!" Kithran poked the wood of the puppet with a dagger tip.

I'm in no state to answer. I'm a bit in pieces, as you can see. Morgana gave a hollow chuckle.

"You sure talk just fine."

But as everyone was breathing, the air almost began to feel heavier. Quite suddenly, a bowl landed in the middle of the group, breaking on top of the wooden torso of the puppet, scattering powder into the air. A glance to the source of the bowl revealed the shopkeeper with a hand over her lips in surprise, as if to say 'did I do that?'. The powder dispersed into the air from the impact, directly in the faces of all three intent on interrogating the puppet.

I am Morgana, and you are my prey.

The miasma of airborne sleeping powder slowly spread outward from the point of impact. In the enclosed space of the apothecary, it would not be long before it saturated the breathable air inside.

Despite the fact that the shopkeeper would also be exposing herself to the same powder, she remained standing behind the counter, seemingly unaffected as she watched the group around the broken puppet. 

It was only after I had posted Morgana's grapple of Ch'dau that I realized that actually was a good opportunity for the shopkeeper to do a thing. I could add that in now...

Especially now that Kithran is in range...

Eol had a post that he was working on though so I will wait and see for the moment

Looks like level 5 with how there's fewer third levels than the others

You get a spell slot you get a spell slot everyone gets a spell slot

Okay not quite like that but 5e really reduced the frustration of preparing the wrong spells

Also infinite cantrips

So annoying to run out of magic when you're only magic without that... 

... Ever tried clothing on that was too small?  

It's strongest at the point of contact and spreading outward, so absolutely Morgana is restricting his breathing in an effort to weaken him. Arms and legs are not fully immobilized yet, but getting there as the bind is woven. 

Kithran can easily go for the hip or knee joints - break the leg off, break the hold  

The wood audibly strained and splintered under Ch'dau's pull. It seemed more resistant than if it were flesh and bone, but not resistant enough, and with the sound of several threads snapping, the ball joints of the shoulders came undone, leaving scattered torn threads in the open socket. 

Ch'dau could feel weight at his hips even as the puppet brought the mask closer to his face. 

You are very much like Aranwen, aren't you? 

The puppet twisted it's feet together behind the small of Ch'dau's back, locking its hold, and the gemstone seemed to brighten. 

Though invisible to the others, Ch'dau could feel threads beginning to weave themselves upon his body. Individually he might have snapped them without a thought, but the combined strength of all of the threads began to stifle muscle movement where they spread, bit by bit...

... What Morgana would do here. It's a gamble on her part and it leaves the puppet's remaining joints directly open to Kithran's blade to break, but she would risk it for the chance she succeeded.

Ch'dau performed the wookie method of melee attacking

Nicely done there  

It is the Witch of Threads - heartstrings are merely threads of the heart, aren't they? 

I've added to the post with the encounter between Aranwen and Morgana on the current page. 

The exact wording I'm going to withold for Aranwen to share herself later, but I imagine it's not hard to guess what Morgana offered her

Or as Morgana would put it, slow acting contact poison. Recall how cosmetic retail employees will put perfume on your wrist for you to sample... 

Morgana's vocation as an assassin is not an empty title

When I rolled for Morgana having a doll in the apothecary, it was to see if the shopkeeper was one of her dolls. So Kithran and Mosic were actually interacting with Morgana playing shopkeeper.

I had briefly considered a combat puppet hiding on one of the ceiling beams, but that ultimately made no sense if they're patrolling. So instead we have the situation where Morgana saw Kithran enter the store via the shopkeeper, and brought one of her combat puppets in for the ambush.

The rest is as you're aware  

Dispel magic would basically sever her magical thread connection to the doll. The gemstone will appear to darken and the puppet falls to the floor as you might expect. At least until Morgana reestablishes a connection 

Bloody wireless connectivity

That particular action might be what truly reveals the second doll in this encounter, and why Morgana has no trouble tracking Kithran's movements despite the combat puppet not facing Kithran. Also why the puppet made a direct b-line to the store from the street in the first place

The shopkeeper does appear/smell human by all accounts

I always find myself not really recalling the extent of what the holodeck can do. I presume what I have is okay, but I couldn't remember how tactile the things it could make were  

It also occurs to me that Lt. Tal's exercise room would take up very, very little CPU and memory due to being mostly inanimate objects  

The shopkeeper begins mixing something together after seeming to get over the initial shock of 'there's fighting in my store'

If she finishes and the puppet is still able to fight, she throws the bowl at the puppet, the contents dispersing into a faint dust cloud about it. A compound that may induce drowsiness...

After her prayer, Aranwen did what she could to stem the bleeding, undoing her armour to better use the leather straps for holding her injuries closed so they may clot, but the fact remained that she was a mess. She leaned back against a wall, and found herself adrift between wakefullness and unconsciousness.

“In another k’tomba cage,” Ch'dau snorted softly into the dank dark of the dungeon. “There is something ironic about that, yes, Ara? The path we have walked together began with me in a cage and Kithran on the other side of the door and, now, it seems, it will end the same way…”

Aranwen's head perked up, and she looked in the direction of the voice, "Not yet," She replied, her voice quiet but far firmer than her last appearance would have suggested, not at all a voice to match the look of the silent, defeated Syl who was led to this cage.

“I am sorry, khatun,” he sighed over the incessant giggling, “that you have to be here at the closing of that circle. Sorry to you all, my friends… m’rra’fiki… that I could not spare any of you from this.”

Aranwen smiled sadly in the darkness, "Do I really deserve to be called that? Would a true khatun have done as I have done?" she asked, her voice a bit weaker as it echoed the ache in her heart.

“no matter what failure you think was enough for you to drop your blade, you have never failed me… You never could… I have loved you since Davnor… and that, too, has been my honor.”

Aranwen's breath caught in her chest, and she felt an icy panic grip her heart.

Part of her wanted to disbelieve; that was the safest response for herself. For a Sylvari to deeply love was dangerous. Only another Sylvari would potentially live as long as she might; any other species would not live so long, and she didn't know if she could take that. Not again.

Part of her, however, recalled to her mind Ch'dau's warmth, and she began to relax. She held a hand to her chest, and nodded to herself.

"Thank you, Ch'dau," Aranwen replied, finding the warmth returned to her voice. My dearest friend; my love. The only reason she didn't reply with these words was because she knew what she had to ask of them all, and those words would only make it even harder for Ch'dau.

Finding the flame in the abyss once again enkindled, Aranwen took a deep breath and drew of its warmth. She looked around her at the other three nearby, her golden eyes once more burning bright.

"This path I led you all down has ended up here. Would that I could have made it otherwise. But I fear I must ask of you still more, if not as a leader, then as someone who wishes you all to survive this. I will say this but once - I did not choose this to steal the honourable death rightfully earned by you in battle. I chose this as one last gambit. One last chance.

Temper your spirits in the flame of your will. Forge your hearts into blades that are yielding, but strong. Even should it be bent in two, let it bend but never snap. And if you must lash out, lash out at me. Curse my name. Strike me down. Forsake me. Do what you need to do.

The only advantage we may yet gain is whatever can be gained by ceding ground which complacency assumes will never be trodden again.

Do you understand?"

Aranwen knew what she was asking of the people she had called allies. Not so much of a plan but a desperate gamble. Something to buy them time to learn, to plan, and, should the opportunity come, strike.