Falling into line, the halflings manage significant feats of stealth. The chelish patrol never knows what promotion they just missed, curving over the horizon without them.
By the end of the day, you reach the Brastle River, and the town of Brastlewark comes into sight- a collection of buildings with a confusing hodge-podge of various styles and design concepts with clashing floors and annexes stacked on top of each other in a calamity of colors.
You recall you were to meet your contact behind the sign of the Red Gear.
Well let's try to find this Red Gear. Clyde searches his memory
Erick nods. "Agreed, who's doing the contact with our contact, and who's staying with the sprouts?"
"I'll stay with the sprouts. I'm not much of a talker. "
I'll go, but I won't be doing the talking.
Leaving Henry behind, you follow Clyde's direction through the twisting streets. Full of gnomes and a few other travelers, the only thing that doesn't seem strange and alien is the few Chelish banners draped over public light-posts.
Finding the Red Gear tavern and its sight of a bloody cog, you head to the back to find an old gnome with great tufted white eyebrows and a bald head sipping tea atop a small stool. He nods with equanimity as you approach.
Erick takes a seat, and orders an ale for himself and Telsyn. While waiting, he nods at the gnome. "Are you Mister <Insert contact name here>? I believe you inquired about some plant cuttings from my employer? I was told to meet someone here who meets your description at least." As he speaks, he idly cleans dust off his armor, and while doing so, gives the sign while apparently cleaning dust out of the filligree on his armor.
Clyde takes a seat but keeps his eye out on the tavern. [b]Evening.{/b]
Telsyn will do the same.
The man nods, and smiles. "Indeed, I am Mister Erstwhile; I am the caretaker of the King's House." He finishes his tea in a quick drink, and stands. "Let's dispense with a few pretenses; you're among friends here. Come; I've the barn all set up."
To Erick, he seems inscrutable.
Following the man, you eventually come through to what was once a small log cabin, but has since been drastically augmented. Immense marble pillars augment the walls, along with gold-leaf murals. Erstwhile opens a back door, and lets the slaves in to a small storage room with beds, barrels of food and drink and a few sacks of clothing.
He turns around. "I can take it from here, tillers. Fine work. Is there anything I should know...?"
After dealing with Erstawhile, the elder slave, Arbas Valsing, comes out to see you. He hesitates, then quickly salutes. "...thank you. We've dreamed of freedom for some time; we wouldn't have dreamed it'd really one day be ours. So... take this. As thanks." Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a dagger and hands it over. Its blade is black as coal, its handle red, embossed with gold leaf and a sigil of eagle and fire. "A Battalion Commander's personal dagger; hopefully, it should bring you fine fortune."
If you don't need that dagger than we accept with sincere thanks. I hope you and your kin can find safety and a good home.
He does tell erstwhile, There was a Chelish patrol about a day out that we avoided so be careful moving folks.
When he is with the others. So, I suppose we can take a day to rest, another question is how do we get back in touch with the folks who help start this up? I reckon there is more we can do.
Telsyn also feels re-motivated. Yes, it would be a fine thing to do some more harvesting.
Once everything is dealt with, Erick mentions to Erstwhile about the trouble they had with the boy being wanted over a ring, and how it was his father that took it, and that said noble may be still after them. He also gives him a description of the rat researcher, and a description of what he likes to do to kids.
Once that is all done...
"Well, I reckon we can head back to where we were before, see what all we can do. I wouldn't mind finding that beady little researcher and gutting him. Maybe we can find some legit work going back, guarding someone's carriage or delivering missives or something."
I plum forgot about the researcher, we could check around and see if he was seen here.
Erstwhile frowns, and promises to keep an eye out for the diabollic researcher.
With some brief inquiries, it's easy enough to discover a few caravans leaving over the next few days are paying for extra guards on their journey back to Ostenso.
Clyde facepalms as Erick proceeds to insult the heritage of a dwarf by
suggesting they are inbred humans.
I think we're going to be leaving town sooner than expected.
Well let us check out these caravans, we have pretty much done what we can do here.
"Right."
Saying a swift farewell to Brastlewark, you join the caravan of an elderly silk merchant proceeding to Ostenso. Despite your payment, the journey is quiet, and soon enough you find yourself returned to the port city's gates.
Returning to your tavern to rest, you also again spot a similar scene to the one before with a tiefling; a passing horned gentlemen, squealing urchins quickly marking something down on a piece of parchment then scarpering.
b]Should probably touch base with Abrosh and Micah to let them know we are back. Then we can check out stuff like the pits.[/b]
Erick grunts and nods. "Seems fair, maybe someone has heard about the little scut that needs to be gutted."
When the urchins scamper off, Erick tugs his hat down, not happy about it. At the next street, if he sees another urchin, he approaches the urchin. "Hey kid, want to earn a copper?"
Yes, we should notify them, at least.
"Sounds reasonable. "
The kid eyes Erick warily. "Silver or nothin', mister, I've important things to do today!"
Shortly after Erick speaks with the kid, the bellflowers return to their tavern; Micah lets you know that Abrosh is waiting for them in the back room.
"Good to see you all; did the run go well? Any problems?"
Got mighty cold at that magic chunk of ice and we almost hit a patrol of thrune soldiers but things got delivered ok.
Erick laughs. "Kid, you got big ones." He digs out 3 coppers, and holds them up. "You give me good, real, information, I give you 3 more. Take it or leave it, Mr. Bigshot."
Erick squats down so they are on eye level, giving him the 'evil eye'. "Ok, now kid, I been seeing a lot of street kids lately using paper and marking pencils. I been in a lot of cities, ain't never seen no street kids wasting good coppers and silvers on paper for any games. So, you tell me what's up with that? Someone handing out paper and marking pencils? What they asking for?"
"Well kid, don't let me stop you from your busy day." He then heads on down the street and repeats the process with another urchin, seeing if they are all too 'busy' to earn coppers instead of silvers.
The kid hesitates, eyeing the coins greedily, and nods. "...fine. Whaddayawannaknow, mister?"
"Oh... oh! Well..." he looks around furtively. "It's a competition, see?" He pulls out a slightly worn yet still new piece of parchment, quite large, filled with dark ink text and a variety of caricatures of grinning demons. "You use it to try and spot devils! AND demons." He points to crude caricatures of a quasit, of a tiefling, of an imp. "Spot three, and you're a winner- for one day, you get a fancy private cab all to yourself, can ride it around wherever you command! Just like a real toff."
He leans in conspiritorially. "If you want in, keep quiet, mister. I haven't heard from a few friends recently- I reckon they found 'em, sold the prize and are keeping quiet about it so no one nobbles 'em to stea it!'
Erick's eyes harden, and he shakes his head. "No thanks kid, if you ain't heard from your friends, they ain't likely still alive. There's a potter was kidnapping kids down in the slum district. He got caught at it and ran away, he's likely set this game up to kidnap more. Let your friends know, them what's still alive anyway." He fishes two silver out of his bag and hands them to the kid. "Remember what I told ya, don't go gettin in any fancy private cab, it might not take you where you want to go. If you want to make a couple of gold pieces though, and get revenge on the guy what gutted your friends, meet me at the <insert name of bar> in a half-hour to tell your story to my friends. We been lookin' for this guy so we could string his guts from the flagpole for what he did to the kids in the slums."
Erik grimaces. "I think our Professor is experimenting on kids again, near here." He explains what he heard about the game and the fancy cab ride. "Some of the kids friends are missing already. I told you this vermin wasn't going to stop, unless we stop him. Still think it's not something we should deal with?"
The parchment also includes the company presiding over the competition- Infernal Imperial Allegiance Inc.
"Wha? Nahhh. We're wise, sharp to street dangers. And I've seen a few I know in the cabs. There's a few posters for the comp, if you know how to find 'em. It's legit... but hey, money's money and warning's a warning." He nods, and takes the money. "...i'll have a think, talk to a few people."
Abrosh nods. "The ice is no joke; once almost ran across a party of Irriseni witches who were passing through... could've been quite nasty."
A little later, the kid turns up at the bar, and tells his story.
So we want to try following this cab?
Yes, the elf agrees.
"Sure."
The kid names a particular street that most winning kids with cabs have been sighted on- it seems they like to ride down it to show off.
Clyde is all set.
Listening the kids' story, you proceed to the describes street- a large avenue near an industrial district, reasonably quiet, with mostly children and laiden laborers proceeding along it.
After only an hour, a rare carriage comes by. Gold-trimmed with thick black-painted wood, the driver is attired with an impeccable grey mustache and a red uniform. As it passes by, a child's-sized hand gives a regal wave out of the window.
Clyde will attempt to start shadowing the carriage
Clyde goes somewhat faster than a slow sneak.
At a quick pace, the party falls into step behind it.
Over the next two hours, the carriage performs a further three circuits of the street, before crossing past the docks.