There's a bald guy in some kind of fancy getup. As you emerge through a curtain from the back room to the front, you almost collide with him -- he was about to poke his head through and see if anyone was around, which might have been awkward if the first things he saw were a trussed-up guildmaster and a dismembered corpse...
"Yes? Hello? A giraffe, you say? How big is it? Long neck, four legs, the usual, I assume?"
With the unexpected visitors being "taken care of" by Jym and Elebrin, Uro will stuff their bound prisoner into a shipping crate, then pile a few nearby sacks on top of poor Young Brannagan to cover up the mess.
The burly orc, lugging about crates and sacks, knocks over a stuffed animal in the process -- a giraffe, to be specific. As it tips over, Uro notes, to his amusement, that it apparently died "in a state," and Guildmaster Roblach took great pains to render it permanently and proudly priapic.
With the sacks in place, there's still a lot of blood seeping out over the floor. Luckily, there's plenty of stuffing for the animals, and it makes a great absorbent material.
Uro pushes the stuffed giraffe over toward the curtains and whispers to the halfling. "Psst, here it is. Seems to have an extra leg though. Might want to warn them."
The bald guy calls in two porters and pulls out his purse. "Right on time, as promised! Gerry was a member of the family so long, we just can't bear to be without him. Say, I don't recognize you -- are you visiting journeymen? Did Master Roblach do the work himself, as promised? He specifically told me he'd see to it himself!"
"Roblach keeps his word. He'd see you but he's a bit tied up at the moment."
"Ah, alright then. Can you bring poor Gerry out, then?"
"Ah, alright then. Can you bring poor Gerry out, then?"
Jym nods urgently at where he thinks Gwl is.
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Elebrin offers a polite cough and adds a flourish of her hand to have Gwl and Uro transfer to the piece to the porters, A...uh...stunning tribute to the grace and power of such creatures. A fine...hrm...hearty and virile specimen.
The bald guy caresses the stuffed giraffe affectionately (and somewhat inappropriately) and hands you a pouch of coins. At his direction, the porters pick it the animal and make sure it's steady, and they all depart. Both porters are very careful of how they carry it, and they keep their faces studiously blank. Luckily, it's not a full-sized giraffe, or it would never have fit out the door -- Uro figures on some kind of pygmy species.
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"I never knew that Color Spray induced hallucinations! To think that my three cohorts resolved a sticky situation without violence without my involvement! I can't wait to tell the three of you about this dream when I regain consciousness! Ha ha, and I sure hope Uro hasn't stepped on me!"
Of course! Baby elephants, even stuffed, are too big to carry by hand.
The massive orc deadlifts the crate containing the taxidermist on to a nearby hand truck. "Jym, if you can see again, I suggest we make our way out of here before we have to fight our way out." Uro nudges the halfling with his foot. "Quickly now. My giant feet and dull witted orc brian apparently have a hard time not stepping on people."
If Jym opens his eyes, he'll realize his vision is back.
"Hooray, my vision is back!" After checking to make sure he doesn't have any orc-shaped boot prints on him, Jym turns to Uro. "Ok, but if any customers come in, you should let me do the talking. I don't think the three of you would know how to handle it."
The party leaves the building and then the district.
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Elebrin gives Jym a withering look as though to say "I think I could figure it out" but remains tight lipped. She was still the newcomer after all.
Elebrin does her best to walk with the other through the streets as though their motley crew was perfectly reasonable looking in hefting a crate through the town.
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The massive orc deadlifts the crate containing the taxidermist on to a nearby hand truck. "Jym, if you can see again, I suggest we make our way out of here before we have to fight our way out." Uro nudges the halfling with his foot. "Quickly now. My giant feet and dull witted orc brian apparently have a hard time not stepping on people."
"Where do you want to take him, Uro? I don't think we should do it anywhere associated with our benefactor, nor any of our homes. Unless someone has a better idea, I think we should head to Parrot Island."
The orc nods. "Good thinking. It sounded like he knew how dangerous it was. Maybe the threat of the place will get him talking. Anyone remember where we left that rowboat?"
Your boat, this time loaded with an extra crate, is safely beached at the shore. You know from prior experience you can climb the steep slope to the clearing where the trapdoor is -- but hauling a person-filled crate up that slope may take some more ingenuity. Alternatively, a good enough swimmer can dive into the ocean, negotiate the tunnels, and get into the dungeon that way -- but that's an even worse route to take while hauling a crate.
'No need to haul it all the way up there. If he knows he's on Parrot Island, he'll talk here on the beach. We can always frog-march him later if he is uncooperative."
Uro nods to Gwl. "Agreed. Let's pop him out of this crate and see what he knows."
Elebrin offers a shrug to the others, this was her first kidnapping. As with all such lessons the elf thought it best for her to pay attention and to stay quiet.
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"So how do you guys want to do this? Good cop, bad cop? Obviously, you guys would be the good cop," Jym's eyes narrow and his voice drops an octave, "and I would be the bad cop."
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Jym asks for Uro's crowbar. If he's given it, he will wedge it into the crate lid and pull down on the bar. When the crate refuses to open, he'll jerk down on the crowbar harder and harder until eventually he's literally hanging from it, trying to rock his weight up and down to get enough leverage to open the crate.
Finally, he drops down from the hanging crowbar and sheepishly indicates that someone else should open the crate.
"Oops, sorry." Uro will casually put a bit of weight on the crowbar, popping the lid right off. He'll then overturn the crate, dumping the prisoner out on the ground.
Guildmaster Roblach falls to the ground in a heap, his hat lying bent and disheveled next to him. Trying to dust off his coat, he looks around, squinting at the sun, and starts, "Don't tell me, we're..."
"That's right!" Jym says cheerily. Then, he'll fall silent and just look at him kindly brontosaurus style, waiting to see if Roblach volunteers anything.
Elebrin nods when Jym speaks and takes the moment to languidly pull the component pouch from before and catalog its contents, taking an occasional moment to look up from her task and fix her eyes on the guildmaster before continuing to look through the odd collection of esoterica.
"Um, well, I see. Of course, I have little desire to be fed to the zombies; still less to have my spells fed to them as well. Yet, here we are. I trust there is some means of accommodation?"
Jym nods his head vigorously. "I certainly hope so! What do you have in mind? I sure hope, at the least, it involves a lot of information about The Lotus Dragon Club!"
He nods. "They are very good customers; I'd hate to see them put out of business! See, they smuggle exotic animals, which is, of course, technically some kind of misdemeanor or something, but nothing to get too worked up about. I mention this openly because you seem to be a fellow who knows his way around town. In any event, it's especially nice for the Guild to know people with that kind of hobby, because exotic animals often don't do well in captivity and have a tendency to die, and one can often fetch a very attractive price for, say, a stuffed and mounted rhagodessa, or a leopard-skin rug, or what have you."
"Sorry, I wasn't listening! We're not really interested in your taxidermy at all! In fact, if this conversation goes well, I expect that you'll go back to sell many more giraffe genitalia... heh.
"Giraffitalia! Hey, guys did you hear what I just--ahem!"
Jym turns back to Roblach.
"What we are interested in is your downstairs neighbors' business. Specifically, why they are stirring up troubles with the noble houses. Their recent activities involving Vanthus Vandorboren is bringing them a lot of unwanted attention. To be honest, we're not actually interested in the Lotus Dragon Club. If we get what we want, nothing about them will change aside from maybe a few bruised egos. But if Vanthus gets what he wants, the nobles won't be happy. Nobody wants that sort of attention, right?"
You can see Roblach is still recovering from being knocked out and dragged around in a box, so his negotiating skills (negligible to begin with) are even worse off.
Wearily, he says, "Of course I want to keep the nobles happy, because a lot of them are high-dollar customers. I have to keep the Lotus Dragon happy, because they'll kill me if I don't." He pauses to spit.
"Vanthus, personally, I owe nothing and would just as soon give him to you. So here you have it: he's not in the Lotus Dragon headquarters, nor even in Sasserine right now. From your idiotic choice of hostage coming out, I'm assuming you never came anywhere near the actual sanctum, so you'll have to take my word for it. Yesterday Vanthus headed east along the coast to Pirate's Cove, with that artist doxy of his."
Holding up a hand he says, "I have no idea what he's doing there; I would assume that's between him and the Lotus Queen alone. But if someone who didn't like him 'just happened' to run into him there and do him mischief, well, certainly she cannot hold me responsible?"
Uro nods. "Good. It sounds like we don't have to go back into that maze." The orc looks to his friends. "Anyone know about this place? Pirates cove?"
"And his girlfriend? What's she like?"
A person of less street savvy than Jym, or with less of a talent for rumor-mongering, would have totally misunderstood the reference. But Jym needs only a moment to realize that "Pirate's Cove" can only mean Kraken's Cove, a purported smugglers' hideout on the eastern shore of Blood Bay, about 60 miles along the marshy coast of the Amedio Jungle.
Regarding the girlfriend, Brissa Santos*, Roblach sneers. "A former pickpocket, turned angsty goth artist. All the boys like Young Brannagan and his ilk drool over her, but she's got eyes only for Vanthus, does she. She's otherwise of no great interest..."
"...unless your interest runs to tattoos. Say, I wouldn't mind using her as a taxidermy exhibit!"
----
"Vanthus? Thar's a scary one. My guess'd be he's with that art-house hussy Brissa. A right Suicide Girl, there, I'm fit to tell ye. He's got her all pantin' after 'im, not realizing he's doing the one-two pretty regular with the Lotus Queen when 'er back is turned. Ah, it's a fine life that Vanthus leads. He gets every good-looker in Sasserine, exceptin' the only one the sick bastard really wants... Say, you'se got any rum? There's a good gnome!"
"That's weird, but okay! When did Vanthus head out?"
"Not sure to the hour -- last night sometime, I'd assume."
Elebrin stands by but says nothing, she was new to the hunt and had nothing to ask...
"Sound like we might still be able to catch up then." Uro turns back to Roblach. "Want a ride back to the mainland? Hope in the boat and grab an oar."
Roblach looks startled as hell at Uro's remark, then looks at him carefully, hoping to notice if the orc is planting false hope in him:
The orc tosses an oar to Roblach and motions toward the boat. "C'mon, get in. This place gives me the creeps."
Roblach gets in the canoe. He nearly drops the oars as his hands start shaking, then he swallows, fully realizes that Uro isn't going to split his skull or (worse) feed him to the zombies, and steadies himself.
"It should come as no surprise that I shall be departing Sasserine as soon as it can be managed," he announces, as he starts rowing. "However, I can hardly show my face at the taxidermy shop, given that I was last seen leaving with you lot. Which of course puts me in something of a quandary..."
As it turns out, he's pretty useless on the oars even when his hands aren't shaking -- Roblach is clearly no bodybuilder.