|
I'm from Antler Rock, doubt you've heard of it as there's not much to hear of. But I've been to the Segang Jungle in Jalmeray and the Bandu Hills of Sargava. Definitely a lot there to hold your interest.
The dwarf smiles and scratches his pet dinosaur under the chin.
As to why we're here--we've business to conduct in this grand city of yours. We're looking for a fellow--I'm bad with names but, Kishara, what did the lad look like again?
The fellow half laughs at Agraics comment, adding "But the sand will get in that armour and chafe, so I suppose you pick your discomforts and go with the less bedevilling"
Magrim equally is noted, and the man looks on with interest, not seeing a problem so far...
The man isn't sure iof Agraic is kidding or not, and just smiles benignly - he appears to be at least appreciative of the fact that Agraic is polite.
Hwe continues inspecting kit and gear, and notices the communications Geode - "This is an Osiriani item, looks historic, there's a tax on that, thirty gold" he declares, noting his journal "Who will be paying and requiring the customs receipt?"
The man examines Magrims papers and shows some appreciation at Margrims professionalism "Seems everything is in order then. Welcome to Eto, should you require anything else you may seek me out later"
With that, you are now in the city proper.
It doesn't take too long to get to the bottom of where you need to go - an Inn called The House of the White Uraeus.
The House of the White Uraeus is a two-story, whitewashed stone structure located in one of Eto’s more upscale districts. A large brass plaque above its door depicts a snake with two “necks” that split from its body, each with its own head.
The servants that manage the inn wear immaculately clean clothing and maintain a quiet but cheerful facility. inside, Grandmaster Torch is nowhere to be seen, but one
burly half-orc sits in the common area and constantly scans the room.
He stands and approaches the party as you all arrive, looks you all over, and with a grunt waves for you to follow him further into the building.
Although its exterior is unassuming, the interior of the White Uraeus is richly decorated with panels of gold-veined marble and bubbling fountains in secluded courtyards.
Cool breezes carry the scent of blooming desert flowers throughout the clean halls. Two half-orcs keep watch outside one set of closed doors. After a moment inspecting the visitors, they pull open the doors to reveal a tiled bathing chamber beyond.
“Welcome to Eto, Pathfinders,” rasps Grandmaster Torch as he lounges in a steaming tub. “I didn’t imagine we would meet again under such heart-warming circumstances, yet the White Uraeus certainly knows how to make a traveler comfortable. What can a humble secret monger such as I do for you?” he asks as he leans forward in the tub and flashes a knowing smile.
|
What Agraic WAS going to say was "We're looking for some Diamond guy's family jewels". Fortunately for everyone involved, Henrick spoke up first and spared EVERYONE that imagery.
Instead, his feeble attempts at being charismatic thwarted for now, he considers the stances of the posted half-orc guards warily, trying to get a feel for how much of a fight one of them would be without trying to pick a fight.
He nods amenably as he listens to Henricks request.
“Amenopheus may have overlooked the fact that he owed me several favors before I ever asked for his help, but I don’t mind extending a discount to repeat customers,” he remarks with a rasping chuckle as he snaps his fingers to summon one of his bodyguards, who arrives carrying a folded piece of paper. “Let’s see what’s on today’s schedule,” he murmurs as he examines the paper’s contents. “Yes, all of this will do. Consider this my price—all of these tasks completed to my satisfaction in return for what I know of the sages’ jewels. Do we have a deal?”
Magrim simply gets the impression Torch is a shrewd and particular negotiator.
|
|
"Okay, before we take a look at anything, you have more information than 'nothing', right? Because that'd really be an ass kind of move, have us do all this scut-work for you, and we get a one-word response from you?"
Agraic may or may not have had a contract or two in the past that went that way, and 'nothing' doesn't pay the bills at the end of the month.
"That would be a stunt one could pull off once in a career - I'll save playing that hand for a more worthwhile occasion" Torch answers Agraic directly, and without offence at the suggestion.
You move out through the local bazaars and stalls that inhabit every nook and cranny of this great trade town...
More than a dozen camels are tethered outside a large pavilion tent while a score of porters pack supplies for what looks to be a grand archeological expedition. Crates of tools, coils of rope, and sacks of dried food lie in piles waiting to divided up among the beasts of burden. Within the sumptuously appointed pavilion, stacks of scrolls and hand-drawn maps lie strewn across a canopied bed.
A tall, dark haired northerner with a thick eastern accent and persistent scowl supervises the storm of activity while checking over an inventory scrawled in a well-worn ledger. “Where are those amphorae of water? This expedition won’t last a week in the Pillars of the Sun without water!”
Plying the streets for information, the travelling adventurers manage to glean some tales...
***
Madame Zelekhati recently began hiring more workers at the Dancing Dunes, though she sends away most who don’t have at least some elven blood. Also, most merchants recommend avoiding Beggar’s Alley, which is home to a gang of pickpockets known as the Hundredfingers
***
The Osirionologist Ionacu Lozar is in a terrible rush to get his expedition underway, but he is exceedingly stingy and has no patience for haggling. As a result, the few merchants who are willing to do business with him are taking their time delivering supplies to his caravan’s marshaling area
***
You are now looking at Lozars caravan...
|
|
Stingy is easy to work with.
Agraic will suggest to the *more social and sneaky* members of the expedition that they work up a 'dummy' delivery, and under the cover of that delivery make the book drop into Ionacu's gear.
He's not feeling he could pull off that kind of subterfuge, but he could act as grunt labor to carry such a delivery in.
|
|
Agraic glances to the others, out of earshot of the forming caravan. "Okay, expeditions need heavy things. When we're about to make the drop, someone needs to speak for me because I suck at social things, and I'll be the dumb peon that drops th' huge supply box making a huge mess and forcing attention to us, to give Belmont th' time he needs. That's my thought, any other ideas?"
|
|
Magrim tries to recollect the style of official documents in Eto, relaying the information to Kishara to see what she can mimic with a steady hand.
I have no clue how to do this, Kishara says, frowning. Just let me do it my way.
She approaches the ornery scholar, but not too closely, as Agraic transports the "goods".
Just making a delivery, she says, trying to sound official and busy.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the camp, Magrim issues a command for his pet to go grab something from the caravan, hoping to create a diversion.
Psst, Gertie. Fetch!
The strange behaviour of the 'odd men' throws off even the most suspicious eyes.
However a large argument breaks out and Lozar is unhappy at these odd people (Rogelio, Agraic, and Henrick "Will never work in this town again!" apparently)
Kish manages to plant and scoot unobserved...!
***
With that you make your way outside the gates, and through some of the older campsites popular when this city was not even constructed to the well outside Sunrise Gate.
Wild grasses hug the low walls surrounding the wide mouth of the well. The opening is 15 feet wide at the top but narrows to a width of about 5 feet at the bottom 30
feet below to the top of sediment-laden water.
|
Due to a shipment catastrophe with his tavern, Kel spends most of the day signing documents and working out budgets. Luckily, he finishes up just in time to catch the group as they make their way out of the city.
Sorry about that, mates. Dire emergency came up. A transporter crashed his cart into the side of my tavern, wrecking quite a good bit of elven whiskey. Cost me a fortune, it did.
He looks around at the commotion behind the group and chuckles.
Aye, there has to be a story for that... What'd I miss?