As Vim, Flann & Adran spend the night out, Vim makes sure to learn as much as he can about the Dwarven City & culture, and does his level best to bring back the information Connor requested (maps, brochures, pamphlets, etc) in whatever form is available.
Vim is able to find some maps, but they are mostly of the trade compound that the dwarves set aside for outsiders. Beyond that, he can't find any maps of the rest of the dwarven city or the underground.
The information he's able to gather on the dwarves indicates they are taciturn under most circumstances, at least to outsiders. They are also grim and stoic, but then, this is as described by gnomes who tend to be rather jovial and the description may not be accurate.
Vim makes casual conversation with Adran via telepathy as the night goes on.
<Truthfully, I've always been fascinated by Astral Suits, but they're less subtle than a good old fashioned Inertial Armor, you know? Sure, you can do more with your suit, but try wearing one into a dinner party... You stand out a bit more than I've been comfortable with. Still, no denying they're a powerfully useful skill.>
Oils of Skate x4: 100 gp
Oils of Psionic Lock x4: 600 gp
Potion of Detect Hostile Intent x4: 600 gp
"Oh it's handy alright. Got me in a few predicaments and out of a few as well. I don't mind standing out much. I mean the wings help but often get overlooked still being all small and stuff."
The next morning, the group of spies (or is that double agents since they are now spying for the Gnomish company, while spying on the Gnomish country?) head to town early in the morning, and grab a ride on the train to the Dwarven mountains.
The ride is more jerky and jiggly than the ship is, but it's also much more interesting, as the train races down the wooden tracks 20 meters above the forest floor, swooping from grove of trees to the next, occasionally swooping past a skybroom tree that stands five times the height of the other trees above.
Given that it's autumn, the trees are a mixture of riotous colors, with evergreens mixed in. Unlike the trams around the city, the long range 'trains' move at a much faster clip, and use engine technology similar to the steam powered engines of the flying ships. Rather than harness two elementals though, the trains seem to only use one, a fire elemental, and then take on water to fill it's steam chamber. Given the abundance of water on the surface, that's not a surprise, as it's a much cheaper resource than caging powerful elementals.
After several hours of travel at a speed that would beat any wind powered ship, the elevated trackway eventually reaches the mountains, and drives strait into a massive cave entrance. Within the cave, small brass fittings in the cars are opened as the car steward pulls a lever, allowing small fireless torches to shed light in a cheery yellow glow that fills the cabin. Outside the windows, the black darkness is penetrated by random beams of light from the cars ahead, giving the outside a spooky atmosphere.
The train suddenly takes a dive down, at a steepish 17 degree grade, and begins to pick up speed. The high pitched 'WOOO WOOO' of the engines whistle pierces the darkness periodically. Then the train straightens up out of it's dive, and suddenly outside the windows can be seen stone buildings that vanish above and below, massive edifications of dwarven construction in the underground cavern.
With a long drawn out screetching sound, the engine slows dramatically, making everyone grab hold of their seats (which for winged folk, were not too terribly uncomfortable, as they apparently get enough draconic folk travelling on the train to provide seats that have foldable backs!) armrests, and then the train slows to a stop outside a stone station.
The gnome in charge of your car grins. "Bet that beats any ride ye've had anywhere else in the world, I betcha." On the ride out, you determined her name was 'Greta Wrenchbender', and she wears the livery of the train company. Her dark hair and yellowish eyes indicate a not-pure blood gnome, although what else is in her background is difficult to say. She carries a sword and pistol, as all the train stewards do, although given that you had the entire car to yourselves, it's not sure who she'd use them against. "Now remember, after today, we're switching to only every three days on a run. So you can't leave before a horn and six bells three days from now. That's six in the evening, not that you can tell below ground here. Bells means morning, bells and a horn mean evening. One bell at one, two bells at two, and so on." She then opens the door to allow you all to leave. "Luggage will be available on carousel #1, soon as those lazy gits in the baggage car get woken up with sword tip by Master Lornis."
Vim, at this point growing quite familiar with the way in which the Gnomes deflect questions about the Dwarves, tries his best to pick out anything new by asking about Greta's experiences in particular.
<Maybe her personal concerns will break free some hint or clue, though at this point I wouldn't be surprised if nobody up here really knows what's going on down there...>
"I suppose with the lack of trade, the powers that be decided to cut back on routes, eh? That's a pity; this might be the most exhilarating craft I've ever had the pleasure of riding. And what will you do to pass the time until the runs pick back up? You won't be out of a job, will you? That's a shame, Greta."
"Yep, until and unless trade picks back up, the train is shutting on reduced runs. We used to run 3 trips a day, both directions. Remember those switch tracks I pointed out? That's where the trains would switch off to wait for the return train to pass by. Don't want to do a header." She grins, smashing both fists together enthusiastically. "But no, I'm ok. I get reduced pay while we're on layover, but I get free room and board to, and I can do odd jobs. I usually do maintenance in the Trade Quarter, the dwarves love someone with small dextrous hands who can do the really delicate work on the clockwork and such. Even if they're not trading or talking, they still need stuff to work, so I make good pay. Especially since there aren't as many of us tinkerers coming down to visit with the trade shut down."
Flann was fine with the overground travel. He even left his seat to get a better look out of the window. This changed as they approached the mountain. "We're going to hit the mountain. We're going to hit the mountain and explode." In the moments before impact, the halvavian is desperately clawing at the lock on his storage chest.
By the time they arrive at their destination, Flann is clutching his armrests and breathing heavily. It had been one thing to be in a sprawling multidimensional temple underground. For some reason, seeing the exterior of buildings, the narrow stretches of stale air, and the dual pitch black, yawning chasms above and below... it sets Flann's stomach turning.
"Flann! Calm down." Connor urged his countryman. He chuckled. "You should have been with us in the North with a certain underground city. Being chased by monsters, hoping there's a turn in the corridor ahead. Or at least no traps." Connor felt the mountain slide around them inside the tunnel.
-------------------
Connor knew Greta Wrenchbender could also be a source of information, theirs or Iskara's. "Have you been able to see any other countries coming or going here to Barda-Koxka, Miss Wrenchbender?" he asked politely after Vim's discussion. "Any new people in town? I'm expecting the Dwarves to stare at our wings, at least." Still seated, Connor kept one hand holding his psicrystal staff, the Diplomacy stone orbiting in a tight circle under Hero topping the translucent material. He also reached deep inside himself to stroke that core of white-hot otherness, to add to his effort.
Vim watches Greta intently as she takes in Connor's question.
The halfling looks confused for a moment, before responding to Connor. "No, I have only seen Iska and Gand while working this line. It only travels through those two countries. I've worked the Elishtru line, which goes up into Elishtru Siva several times, and seen that country as well, but not from this line." She says tentatively, not quite sure if Connor understands how the train works. "As to strangers, no, you are the first. And no, the dwarves will not stare at your wings. They may comment on them, or tell you they are useless, or tell you to use them to go home, but they would not stare."
Flann exits the train carrying his locked chest over one shoulder. He's still a little green--greener than usual, at least--and it's obvious by his stature and posture that he should not be able to carry the chest. As should be the case with the rest of the party, he gives off no magical aura to those with the talent and curiosity to check.
"I'll pay from my own share to find lodgings that aren't a sepulcher- notthathere'sanothingwrongwiththeaestheticorcultureofasubterrarianrace." Flann's mouth clicks shut and he grows occupied with his the top of his boots.
The halfling looks confused for a moment, before responding to Connor. "No, I have only seen Iska and Gand while working this line. It only travels through those two countries. I've worked the Elishtru line, which goes up into Elishtru Siva several times, and seen that country as well, but not from this line." She says tentatively, not quite sure if Connor understands how the train works. "As to strangers, no, you are the first. And no, the dwarves will not stare at your wings. They may comment on them, or tell you they are useless, or tell you to use them to go home, but they would not stare."
"Are the dwarves especially hostile, or is it just limited to words? I have heard they are not well disposed to outsiders at the moment."
"I'd say they're more grouchy than normal, not really hostile. I wouldn't suggest trying any of the dwarven hostels around here, I'd go for either The Spider's Nest, which is a drow run establishment, or The Golden Goat, which is a gnome run inn." She gives Connor and Kotsi and Vim an apologetic look. "Afraid it's not really designed to accomodate those of high outlook."
"Drow." Connor repeated uncertainly. He hefted his backpack. "Well! The Golden Goat it is then!" The young man looked at the others.
"No arguments here, Cap. And I expect we'll be quite welcome given the impending decrease in business they're expecting given the train schedule changes."
It depends. Connor sent through Flann's network. Miss Gearloose undoubtedly has contacts among the local gnomes here as well. If they had any clue as to what was making the dwarves close their stores, it would be the locals. They would have told her already. We need to find an even higher, or in this case, deeper, source.
If anything they should be hiking up their prices to make up for the demand offset. Even a compassionate businesswoman cannot spare her own expenses. This last comment comes through in what must be Flann's mother's voice.
Vim laughs over the network, 'Come on boys, I know that. Trained Accountant, remember? Of course they'll try and screw us, but they'll be happy we showed up nonetheless. One customer is better than none, which is what they'll be worried about happening eventually...
Plus it's not like we can't afford it. And it's not like I've never overpaid for a hotel room, that's half the fun of it, he adds, laughing at the last bit.
Flann looks up at Vim, eyes narrow. There is a moment of deep and silent scrutiny before he performs a laugh, out loud, apropos of nothing. Well we've got to keep them in business for the next three days. Hopefully we can make the best of it.
It isn't too hard to track down the two establishments. The halfling establishment is indeed built for halflings, with the doors about 4 feet high, and the ceilings topping out at 4.5 feet. This lets the inn fit in many more rooms as the other inns, as they can fit 1.5 floors per normal floor.
The inn itself is made of stone, and is the most festooned with lights of any of the inns around, although the other inn, with a spider on it's sign, is festooned with almost as many lights, obviously aimed at the more light sensitive races from the surface.
Pushing into the halfling inn through the double wide front door is not too hard, although the taller of the group need to either squat low or crawl to get around. However, the group has to keep tight control over their wings to avoid slamming them into others in the tight spaces.
There's a portly halfling man behind the counter, who looks at the taller members of the party as if they are nuts for trying to squeeze in. "Gentlefolk, I strongly suggest you try the Spider's Nest a few doors down, our rooms are not designed for you." Looking to Adlan and Flann, the halfling smiles. "Welcome, never seen anyone with wings like those at our height before. Not sure if our beds work for you? But we have rooms."
Flann, Adran, Connor sent over Flann's network, I hate to split our group, but the situation is being forced upon us. Kotsi, due to your...complexion, you may get a similar familiarity at the other inn. Outwardly, his shoulders tense with the effort of keeping his wings folded as small as possible, Connor stated "Well, honorable innkeep, we were warned, but we had hoped to stay together. Vitalist Swallowtail, I'll contact you after we've made...other arrangements." He began to awkwardly turn back to the double doors.
I just hope it's Southern Drow at this inn, and not the half-psionic, half-magical Northern tribe. Connor told Hero. There's no way I can hide our psicrystal staff, or our universal items.
********
As they leave the halfling-hotel in search of the taller accommodations, Vim laments the loss of Flann’s network, which he’d grown used to over the last however-many weeks. In maybe not so weird way (but relatively unexpected to him, at least) it reminds Vim of being home with the many vitalists in his immediate family, something he hasn’t done for quite a while.
As they get out of range and he feels the sensation of the network closing off to them, Vim connects with Val and reaches out to Connor, Hero, and Kotsi, telepathically: ”Not as good as a Flann’s network Captain, but it’ll do in a pinch if we need to stay silent and still talk while we’re separated. We can address everyone, but you won’t be able to talk to anyone but me...and it can get a bit confusing if you all talk at once, so I tend not to keep the lines ‘open’ unless I have to, you know?”
<Understood. I am interested to see these 'Drow' in any case.>
Kotsi makes her goodbyes to her companions and the friendly innkeeper, and heads to check out the place with whoever accompanies her.
Flann greets the halfling innkeper with a hand-stitched pouch of gold. "Yes, wings. I imagine they seem a thing of lunacy here, what with the walls pressing in from all angles. My companion will want a list of your least scrupulous evening companions... followed by a list of your most scrupulous evening companions. Daytime companions as well, ifthatmakesanysensegiven-" Flann clears his throat. "Two rooms. Three days." He fumbles for a moment for his hip flask and takes a sip of water.
The Spider's Nest is easy to identify, the inn is made of stone, like most other buildings, but has a big metal sign bolted to the stone that has a spider sitting on a web holding a mug of ale in one hand and a turkey leg in the other, with a demented but endearing smile on it's face. Needless to say the spider doesn't look much like a real spider other than the eight legs and the bulbous body with a red hour glass on the back. The inn is also very well lit both externally and internally.
The inn has a handful of humans and elves in it, seated at tables, apparently eating and drinking ale. There's a pair of, oddly, dark haired drow who appear to be busy serving.
The first one appears to be the 'tavern wench' of the tavern. She's dressed a bit more revealing than the other one, and has half her head shaved and sports what look like tribal tattoo's of some kind. She's carrying a wooden platter that looks solid enough to use as a shield, and has a mace on her hip oddly enough.
The other drow is behind the bar, leaning against it and playing with a dagger while waiting for orders. She's sports short cut hair, and no tattoo's. Her outfit is more conservative, tight black leather that only bares a bit of shoulder and upper chest, complemented with a dark purple half-cape.
When the crew enters, the wench nods. "Greetings Travelers, if you're here for food, take a seat. You can look, but if you touch, I break your hand with Silvessthea here." She pats the mace, and it glows a sickly purple as her fingers touch it. "If you're looking for rooms, talk to my sister, Alfaerisca." She nods at the woman behind the bar, who stops playing 'flip the knife in the air and catch it by the blade' and looks at the group expectantly, as if to see which one they will go for.
The wood panneling and the wood used in the bar and the tables is Darkwood, making the interior of the inn a very expensive design choice, but also meaning that the wood is hard enough to survive quite a few bar fights with no damage.
Connor recognized the majority of wood paneling present was the lighter Darkwood. Outlawed automatically on Atalantia, Connor considered eating at the magic-imbued tables as appetizing as using barrels of gunpowder for furniture. Someone had this much Darkwood? Hero, he sent to his other self, tell Vim to pass on to the others we're surrounded by Darkwood in here.
Connor looked expectantly at Kotsi for introductions.
You got it boss.
Dear, this place is much nicer than I anticipated. Too bad you couldn't stay at the other place. We could have tested their locks...
YO! Listen up you frackin' wastrels, Connor says to tell you that your dumb arses are surrounded by darkwood. Not lightwood, darkwood. So.. whatever that means. He's never very good at explaining stuff. That one with the tattoo's is cute, I wonder if she likes gems around her neck and tucked in where it's warm and... The voice in your heads suddenly cuts off.
"Thank you, miss...?" Kotsi waits long enough for the mace-wielding Drow to respond, and goes to Alfaerisca.
"We're looking for accommodations in the city, as you may have guessed. This establishment was specifically recommended to us as friendly to outsiders."
The drow flicks the knife over her shoulder and sticks it into a target on the wall, near the center, and nods. "Sure wings, we're friendly enough, just as long as you and your friends can keep your hands to yourself unless invited or paying." She says coolly, and reaches under the bar to pull out a large tome. "Single room is 1 gold per night, and it's a single room, no doubling up or trading off sleeping shifts. Double room is 2 gold per night, or 3 if you want to let up to 4 people stay in shifts. A suite is 4 gold per night, and has two bedrooms and a common area, and you can put as many people in there as you can fit comfortably. If you want long term rates, we can work those out. Talinea's time is 2 gold an hour, or 10 gold for overnight. My rate is 3 gold an hour, or 15 overnight. If you want anything special, you can make requests and we'll see if we can come to an arrangement. If you have an 'outside guest' in overnight, there's an additional gold piece charge. What rooms do you want? And I'll need names, the dwarves require us to keep track of who's staying and when in case they need to track anyone down and chop their body parts off."
Flann greets the halfling innkeper with a hand-stitched pouch of gold. "Yes, wings. I imagine they seem a thing of lunacy here, what with the walls pressing in from all angles. My companion will want a list of your least scrupulous evening companions... followed by a list of your most scrupulous evening companions. Daytime companions as well, ifthatmakesanysensegiven-" Flann clears his throat. "Two rooms. Three days." He fumbles for a moment for his hip flask and takes a sip of water.
The halfling shakes his head. "Sorry my friends, but all the 'companions' have gone back to Kotsi. There's not enough business down here. The ladies over at the Spider's Nest are somewhat accommodating, but expensive as I am told by those who have used their services. Now, rooms are 1 gold per night, single rooms I assume. So that would be 6 gold. Meals not included in the room rate, although the water is complementary."
Vim chuckled at the heads-up from Connor and Hero, having noticed the same thing already himself but pleased he wasn't the only one paying attention. After making sure the relay the info to Kotsi, he watched on as the women discussed the prices and things. He let the others focus on that, and instead gave the rest of the place and its patrons a once-over. Lying to folks was hard, and he was good at it, but telling the truth (or must of it, anyway) he felt comfortable leaving to the Connor & Kotsi.
I know, Tenfa - our first real halfling here on the Surface this time! But I can look for museum/temple workers as we go along. Connor replied. Privately he would hate to "force" himself to be recognized by a priest of Tenfa or other godling. There had been too much of that in Masiaarin. It would blow whatever cover they had here.
Connor inwardly shuddered at the Wingless pricing themselves so blatantly. Would their prices rise or lower if the Dwarves' drought continued? As sisters they had nothing to worry about from him, unless they grew wings. "Do the suites have wider windows, Innkeeper Alfaerisca?" he rumbled, trying to show deference after Kotsi. The accommodations were expensive, either for a room or a suite.
Hero, tell our countryman and woman, politely this time, we're not saving much if we go separate, and we can always use telepathy inside a suite. We'll need three days, could be longer if the Dwarves are mute. Connor sent.
Alfaerisca snorts. "Windows? In this place? No, there's no windows. Nobody wants windows. We got fake ones on the outside, but nobody really wants a way for a thief to sneak into their room while they're out. Each floor has four exits, in case of fire, and all rooms have immediate access to two of them, for safety. Plus the wood is all spelled with anti-fire runes, to help with that. Also a few runes of Null-Silence scattered around, to keep enterprising thieves on their toes. A few squeaky floorboards too, with extra gears under them to make more noise." She actually shows some emotion for the first time, mild amusement. "As a thief myself, I take pride in making my inn as thief unfriendly as possible." She pulls up a small necklace with 3-4 holy symbols on it, and gives a symbol of Tenfa a small buss with her lips. "A good thief always knows how to stop a bad thief. Only the best thieves can come here."
Oooh, I like her Dear. She's got a good head on her shoulders. Are you sure wings are required?
Oooh, yeah boss, quit being so stuffy about wings and such! You know what they say, what happens dirt side stays dirt side!
Vim senses no lying from either sister, they appear to be rather plainly exactly what they portray themselves to be. A bit of an unusual thing in Vim's experience. Most people wear some sort of mask, but the sisters seem bluntly honest about themselves, their inn, and their lives.
Adran laughs.
"I'm not a man whore. Just like a good time from time to time. I will be fine with knowing what's on the menu. Been a bit since I had a proper meal. What do say Flann want to get some grub?"
Flann relaxes visibly. "A dining hall can be a delightful experience, even without partaking in the food. Are there any performers? A house band, perhaps? I can pay if one must be arranged... I just need to put my trunk in the room."
"I prefer to 'spread my wings and fly free'...but there's 'never such a thing as too much humor', especially with talkative floors that refuse to stay quiet." Connor quoted back at the female drow, smiling. "That would involve my third question about this city of Dwarves, Innkeep Alfaerisca. But I would defer to asking two new questions before hearing the answer to my third."
'Val, can you tell Hero and Kotsi the sisters seem sincere?' Vim thinks to his psicrystal. 'Thanks.'
While Connor asked questions, Vim took some steps around the common area, stepping heavily and looking for some is the aforementioned creaky floor boards. When he does find one, he enjoys making it creak a few times, stopping (hopefully) while it's still funny and before it gets annoying. Looking up at the proprietresses, he smiles.
Vim is unable to find a squeaky board in the tavern area, and eventually one of the patrons, a human male with a prodigious mustache finally chuckles while eating bread and cheese and what appears to be meat stew from a bowl, with a huge wooden mug of frothy liquid next to it. "If you're looking for the squeaky boards, you won't find them down here. They'd squeak all the bloody time. Too many boots and such. They're all upstairs, on the stairs, in the hallways, behind the walls in the crawlspaces. Right loud nasties they are too."
"Ah, that makes sense," Vim laughs good-heartedly. "Guess I'm not the 'best' thief' she was talking about, though I don't think any of my colleagues would'd argued that either. Vim the not-thief, at your service. Books and ledgers are more my pace, to be fair. What's your name, friend?" he says in return to the patron.