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Oz shakes his head for a moment realizing that the whole kissing the ring thing kind of didn't really make a lick of sense from any perspective whatsoever. He's not really sure what's going on anymore at this point and then the people prior come back into the room.
Looking at the items in his hand, he only has 2, and last time he checked, there were 4. Right?
Placing the Garnet and ring on the table, he placed the dagger down too, merely saying "Quiet. Aloof. ... Curious." With that, he amorphously bends over to the bookshelf again, seemingly flowing through the air as he does it. "Four things. Two found. Search again."
With that, he begins to check this thing thoroughly. Ridiculously thoroughly. More thoroughly than the only detective on mystery island.
As he fumbles around like a fool, completely incapable of noticing the other 2 things, he applies his trusty fist to his ceramic mask in a glorious palm that no one can see as he's under the bookshelf entirely at this point.
This is outrageous, and it doesn't take a clown like himself to realize such.
Perhaps the lady of the manor would be willing to share information with us on what she knows or does not know of this box in light of our discoveries and the appearance of these strange creatures, dwarf not counted?
As soon as Dareon finishes his explanation of the fight with the pugwampis, the unconscious one in his hand vanishes. Koriah smirks and snickers slightly, before deciding to take her leave, "Well, Sheila, I best be off. I got a lot of preparations to make before my next mission. It was nice talking to you." She turns and bows to the rest of you, "Good luck in your endeavors as Pathfinders. It's always nice to meet a new generation of agents." Sheila bids farewell to Koriah; and once she has left, Sheila asks you all to take your seats again.
“First, allow me to apologize for that unpleasantness regarding the gremlins—but it does provide an excellent object lesson. The life of an adventurer is not one for the weak-hearted. That you not only took care of the gremlins but also got the box open in the first place is all the confirmation I need that my gut was right—you’re the perfect group for the job I have in mind. You may help yourselves to the contents of the box as my way of compensating you for any trouble caused by my little test."
She wrings her hands a little in frustration as she steps over to the window and looks out as she speaks. “You see, I’ve recently had trouble with one of my informants here in Magnimar, Natalya Vancaskerkin. She’s a half-Varisian who recently approached the Pathfinder Society with an offer to serve as a street informant. She runs with the Sczarni, although I’m not exactly sure with which group. A week ago, Natalya sent me a cryptic hint that her gang was on the verge of uncovering an item that would be of great interest to the Society. Since the Sczarnis’ methods of uncovering something often involves an armed robbery or breaking into somebody’s personal chambers, we thought it prudent not to press for further details and instead wait to see what it would produce. Suffice it to say, she hinted strongly that it pertained to Thassilon, and promised to meet with me to discuss this find three days ago." She then turns to the group, irritation evident on her features.
“She never kept that promise. Instead, she seems to have simply vanished. Initially, I assumed that the acquisition of this item was simply taking longer than expected, but now I’m hearing rumors that the Sczarni are looking for her as well.
By this point she stands over the table where you are all seated, her bearing rather imposing, “It seems likely that Natalya has absconded with this item she’s discovered. And this is where you enter, my friends. I want to know what it was that Natalya and the Sczarni found. In fact, I’m more interested in that than in what happened to Natalya herself. For now, I’d like to keep all of this quiet—if you can find out what happened to Natalya without letting a lot of people know she was also working for me as an informant, that would be preferable—that’s a big part of why I’m coming to you, as new members of the Pathfinder Society, with this task. You don’t yet have a reputation in Magnimar, and as such, the lowlifes and criminals you are likely to encounter may be more likely to talk."
Her demeanor once again returns to that of friendly hostess, “So... go out there and look for Natalya. Find out what happened to her, and to this item she and her gang discovered. If you can secure the item, all the better bring it back to me and I’ll have a reward of a hundred gold apiece for you. And if you can bring Natalya back alive for me to speak to, I’ll double that! If there aren't any questions, I would appreciate if you could begin your investigation as soon as possible.”
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Having entirely given up on finding whatever that fourth item is, Oz huffed, but didn't really much care for it. He'd found 2 garnets, a ring, and a dagger, which he made a point to conceal on his person with his other weapons without saying much. He figured opening his vestments to reveal the 10 other daggers was obvious reason enough for him to add one to his collection.
Listening to the conversation with his feet propped up on the table, Oz took interest in this. This was what he was surprisingly good at. Information was something he was good at keening, and even if the sczarni were involved, he didn't much care. Hell, they were looking for him too.
"Sczarni?" Oz simple shook his head rather drastically. "Findable. Immediately. Have informants. See soon." He said, pushing his chair back and walking straight out of the doors before anyone had any time to object.
He was just about to take another step outside when he realized he was in the middle of a team now. His mask seemed to turn a complete 180 as the rest of his vestments barely moved. They seemed rather loose-fitting, as if he were able to turn around inside them without moving the clothes, but that was just preposterous.. "Objections?"
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Gaileyon looks towards the Masked man with a Raised eyebrow, still seated in his seat and leaning forward, one elbow on his knee while his chin rests upon a balled fist. After the Masked man asks if there's questions, he looks back to Koriah and leans back into his chair. "Who runs the Sczarni in this group - and where's their best known hang-out?!"
"No objections to a prompt departure here, but for a question or two." Dareon says, but it appears Gaileyon's beaten him to the punch (so to speak).
"Yes, where was she known to spend her time?" Dareon adds. They aren't likely to find anyone if they don't have any leads, as "The Sczarni" isn't a terribly specific starting point. They had to have somewhere to at least start looking.
"Were there any people that she regularly saw that might know where she is, too?"
When they leave, Dareon stands up quickly and follows Oz. He seems to know what he's doing, and Dareon doubts any of the rest of them are as good at finding things out as he is. Maybe Elrawien, actually, but only if she gets to ask someone...male. He's surprisingly able to keep up, despite the breastplate that he wears.
I will be more than happy to investigate what ever we need to investigate with my brother. Perhaps we can join the Masked One?
Ask the group asks questions concerning any more guidance about how to find the woman, Sheila offers a shrug and informs them, Unfortunately, I don’t know much about Natalya, other than that she approached the Pathfinders and offered to be a sort of double agent among the Sczarni. As the Pathfinders have recently forged alliances with the Sczarni in many cities throughout the Inner Sea region, I knew that having a member of a Sczarni gang as a double agent could be useful. The Sczarni have yet to fully earn the trust of the Pathfinder Society, after all."
"One of Natalya’s conditions for entering this alliance with us was that she wanted to retain a good amount of anonymity and autonomy, so she’d be free to handle things as she saw fit. I now realize too late that agreeing to these terms may have been a mistake, but until I know more, I'm not willing to write her off as a traitor."
She seems to perk up as she remembers a bit of information that may help, "When Natalya initially approached me with the offer of serving the Pathfinders as an informant, she engaged the aid of a man known as the Amazing Zograthy, a Varisian who keeps a permanent tent and fortune-telling business in Washers’ Row in Dockway."
A look of concern crosses her features, "One of the things I'm worried about is the rumors of Nidalese slavers prowling the streets of late, and if these are true, being abducted by a slaver in the middle of the night would certainly explain Natalya’s absence. She might even have been picked up by the city guard for some reason, in which case a visit to the Arvensoar, the garrison for the city’s watch, might yield some clues. Beyond this, I can offer nothing more than wishes for luck."
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The dwarf slaps his hands against his knee's and stands, "Well then. I do believe we have a fortune teller to visit." He rotates his back as he stands, doing some in-place calisthenics to work out his muscles from both the earlier fight, and the journey.
He rotates his head and shoulders lastly, looking around at the group with an enthusiastic grin and a nod afterward. "Shall we get to it then?!"
"So we've got a fortune-teller and the Arvensoar to visit. Better than nothing, thank you, Mrs. Heidmarch." says Dareon, as he follows Oz out of the building.
"So...which should we go to first? My vote is the fortune-teller, as he's a known associate, and not simply a guesstimated lead based on speculation."
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Having realized that he may actually want to wait, Oz figured it was a pretty good opportunity to commit some things to memory.
The woman's name was Natalya Vancaskerkin.
She ran the streets with the Sczarni.
She was half-varisian.
Her gang apparently uncovered some Thassilonian thing a week back.
She's been missing for 3 days.
Possible situations she'd gotten herselves into:
Nidalese slavers have been skulking around, so she may have been abducted.
The Sczarni may have found her.
She may have just absconded and considered the item too valuable.
Oz merely looked around, remembering his awful run-ins with the Sczarni. He hated to admit it, but he was rather savvy about the local area, especially when things came to them. Going so far as to know Zograthy like the back of his hand, he also knew that the sly bastard happened to expect payment.
Perking up at his name, he almost immediately said' "Zograthy? Will expect penance." he thought for a while. The fact that he knew that was plenty of reason for the others to go off and investigate the man there. He himself however would do far better investigating personally.
"Perhaps... Go alone? You seek Zograthy. Myself? Other leads. No?"
While Oz did in fact enjoy the idea of a team, he felt as though the group might miss something or be far too noticeable if they, well, acted as a group. The Sczarni were rather privy to information, almost as much as he. Goofball as he was.
"Do you mean to say that you will investigate Zograthy by yourself, or that one or all of us should find Zograthy while you investigate other leads yourself? While I think that a group of six looking for someone is indeed a bit conspicuous, we're dealing with dangerous folk here. It'll be safer to stick together."
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Oz chuckled under his mask at that. He quickly glided over to the group, making it a point to get away from the door way. "Stealthy" he said as he approached, then fluidly seemed to wrap around Dareon as he stood beside him. "Careful. Silent. Safe."
"Myself" he said as he pressed a hand against his chest. "Meet up soon. Check leads. Worry not." he cocked his head to the side. "Worry not."
Oh Masked One, I would love to travel down the roads you trod as I am not really comfortable traveling with a boy, I would rather travel with a man.
Dareon cocks his head in return at the strange masked man. "Do you...not speak Common well? Is it a second or third language for you? I mean, I'm not worried about you remaining unseen, I'm just confused about what you want to be doing."
Faedrin sighs from his seat at the table, bored almost as soon as Sheila and Koriah depart. His mind wanders over to the bookcase and on a whim he hops up and runs the blade of his rapier underneath, hoping to catch any loose trinkets and sweep them out into the open.
Though seemingly focused on anything but the conversation going on behind him, the elf follows along well enough to add his opinion, "Washer's Row? That wretched place? Ugh. Surely we can try calling upon the authorities at Arvensoar before resorting to visiting such an unseemly neighborhood?"
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Oz shakes his head and curses his bad speech patterns under his breathe. "Investigate Slavers. Ask around. Leave Zograthy to you. Simple."
At that point, oz simply placed his hand on his mask in frustration. As much as he enjoyed the idea of company along his trip, the woman would no doubt ruin any attempts at stealth he made. However, he certainly enjoyed the idea... at least later.
"Courteous. Tempting. But later." he said, taking a bow, and turning to walk beneath the door. "Report here. Soon?"
Sighing as the Masked One leaves and giving a little pout and then a smile.
In Elven to Fade, Perhaps we should split off from the smelly dwarf and the other to see what we can find. It seems like they will hinder more than help
Faedrin chuckles at his sister's remark and replies in kind, "I'm inclined to agree with you, dearest sister, but it seems as if Sheila intends for our varied band to work together beyond this simple task. Best we stick together, I think, such as it is. Besides, Dareon and Tanj should at the least prove to be passable company."
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Oz makes it a point to separate from the group. While he didn't particularly worry that much for their safety, or his, for that matter, he didn't think he could handle what was eventually going to be a racial slur festival.
Deciding to look into things of his own accord, he took to the streets, and rather enjoyed the casual side-ways glances that people would give him. It was certainly strange to see a man with a mask in full black in public, but, that wasn't anything he wasn't used to. He enjoyed his enigma-like qualities.
He had bid the group farewell for just a moment, hoping to report back to the woman with ample news of the person she'd been so interested in.
As he slank through alleyways he couldn't help but wonder where he should start. There were plenty of Sczarni cells in the area, and quite a few would have plenty of good information.
Finally finding one of the darker alleys, he whisked himself into one and enjoyed the idea of traveling through such dark confines.
Zograthy would likely have been a wonderful place to begin, but he would most likely not have any know-how about the slavers, which was something Oz was more concerned with. That and he was flat broke. As far as he knew, the Goose-chase everyone was on only spanned the city itself, but she could very well have ended up in Nidale. He didn't have to think of what those kind of people would do with a supple varisian.
Knowing that, he perused the various alleys, trying to regather where he should probably begin.
Faedrin, what fun is practicality when we have to deal with the obvious faux paus these two will bring? Give the dwarf something worthwhile to do like drink himself into oblivion and give the boy his bottle and blankie so he can take a nape. Let those who can do what needs to be done do it.
Faedrin pauses and turns around to meet his sister's gaze, "El, it's not that I think we'll need them, but the other way round. It behooves us to work as a group in this respect, as off-putting and tasteless as it might seem. Trust me, Wasp, we'll be better positioned to make our fortune by cooperating than we would be if we split off on our own." He smiles warmly, an expression his sister recognizes as a lie, as it masks the cold regard reflected in his eyes as they subtly bounce from hers to each of the others in the room.
What Faedrin is actually saying is that he doesn't trust these people he's just met and it'd be better to keep an eye on them than let them all run off on their own like that masked fellow. While it's true it is expedient to travel together and cooperate, he's more concerned with being fleeced by these strangers than anything.
With a big smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes, Elwarein responds, There is some wisdom in that and perhaps we can turn youth to our advantage as well as gruff? In Sylvan
Dareon crosses his arms at the Elven pair before chiming in in Elven.
Switching back to Common, he continues. "That said, I believe that we ought to go together to Zograthy's tent. Our individual skills may be needed there, and he's the only solid lead that we have. If we are to split up, I believe that the Elves ought to go to the Arvensoar while the rest of us go to Zograthy. Is there a preference that the four of you have? My vote goes towards staying together, but I will bend to majority rule."
The only thing Dareon does not understand is the last statement Elrawien says, and honestly he's fine with that. He's heard enough from her, and Dareon approaches the lithe Elven woman with a scowl on his face. "I'll have you know, Elf, that I am no BOY. I have earned my spurs as a knight and I am a learned scholar and swordsman. If you must know, and you obviously haven't figured it out by yourself, elves mature much slower than men do. The reason you live longer is simply because you are children much longer, and then adults much longer, and then elderly much longer. I am no more a youth than you are, by the standards of our races. Remember, too, that I am what will be standing between you and physical harm while we are together. Before you insult me, think about how much my role in the party means I am accepting danger instead of you."
Faedrin glances at Dareon, then nods in acquiescence once the man finishes his even-tempered rebuke of his sister. "Ah, you are too right, Dareon. I had presumed the others understood Elven in light of your understanding. It was not my intent to keep secrets, but just the contrary. And, I confess, I find it more pleasing to both the tongue and ear. Nevertheless, I shall strive to be more inclusive in my speaking, as you suggest."
He drapes his arm around his sister's shoulder before she has an opportunity to lash back at Dareon, and begins to walk toward the exit. "Well? Aren't we off to dreadful Washer's Row? The sooner we're done there the better."
Dareon nods in thanks at the elven man. "I appreciate your ability to concede points to others."
Dareon will follow Faedrin out of the room when everybody is ready to go.
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Gaileyon's face turns a bit red, not necessarily of anger or annoyance, but embarrassment at not understanding what the group is saying. Once Dareon's verbal bout transitions back into common, he smiles warmly at the last portion of his statement. He nods in agreement with his assessment of the Elves maturity level versus the realm of Men.
He keeps to himself - trying to nonchalantly sniff at himself, as he thoroughly bathed that morning. He was a Noble, after all... He just didn't handle politics as well as the rest of his family. As they all depart, he'll follow behind Dareon as he walks out next to last, and pat him on the back, speaking in a quieter voice, "Well said laddy... Well said!"
He'll follow them along, deciding to let them make the call as he's slowly realizing he's overextended his personality too quickly for these people - that he may not have given the best first impression. 'Temperament is the key for the warrior of madness. Best to work the metal slowly and patiently, than to pound it to shape all at once.' he recollects his great-uncle telling him. 'Perhaps this wisdom applies to more than just metal' he things.
in elven The nerve of the man child speaking to me that way to tell us not to speak in Elven. This would be like us telling him to not speak in his common language which only meets the necessary sounds when used in elven canter. This boy has a high opinion of himself, after all, if he is a knight it is only of a HUMAN knighthood which would make it about as old as he himself is. We elves deal in centuries, he in decades. Ah, the benefit of being of a race that can blend both blade and spell and to know that there is another here who I work well together with.
As she walks away with her brother.
Faedrin responds to his sister's retort in Common, though a grin plays at the edge of his lips. "He wasn't telling, Wasp, he was simply asking on behalf of the others. It's a reasonable request, don't you think, especially considering how closely it seems we'll be working with them? As for his opinion of himself... perhaps he's earned it. Let's give him a chance, dearest sister, at the very least. To his credit, he did learn Elven after all." He playfully bumps his sister with his hip then turns around to face the group.
"I don't suppose any of you know where this 'Washer's Row' is, by any chance? I only know it by reputation and I've not the slightest idea where we're going." He laughs then, a genuine laugh that sounds of bells over water. He continues walking with his twin, but slows their pace so one more knowledgeable might lead.
in Sylvan, Let me try something dear brother, perhaps to keep the peace
Turning around to Dareon, with a remorseful look in her eye,
Perhaps we have gotten off to an improper start, Dareon of the House of Niroden, accept my apologies for my earlier outburst, after all, what would I, a silly and sly elven maid, know of human honors? Perhaps we can get to know each other better over a class of wine, a fine meal or the reading of a tome of the history of Cheliax or the fall of Thassilon. History has always fascinated me as she playfully ruffles his hair.
Dareon's eyes widen at her mentioning of being interested in history. What could a crass woman such as this find interesting about history? He never would have thought...but perhaps he underestimated her.
Looking warily at the elf, even letting her ruffle his hair, he says "That...sounds quite lovely, actually. I also have a similar interest in history's nuances, as it's what's shaped our lives as we know them. Your apology is accepted."
Dareon neglects the fact that he likely should be making an apology of his own, but he's satisfied with the way the conversation's gone and it slips his mind. He is, in fact, quite envious of Elrawien's mastery of the arcane, and perhaps a conversation with her would enlighten him on how he had yet to learn even the rudiments of magic, despite his interest. Yes, he was looking forward to that.
Dareon has no idea how to get to Washer's Row. "Perhaps we should ask for directions? It seems silly that none of us know our way around in our home city. Tanjvats? Perhaps you know, you seem the type."
Washers’ Row is a tangle of open-air washhouses, launderers, and Varisian wagons and tents—while the bulk of those who live and toil here do so in the laundry and tailoring industries, there are some who practice other trades, such as the Amazing Zograthy.
At the southern end of Washers’ Row, a tattered banner hanging over the entrance to the small side street advertises “Professor Callivario’s Stupendous Exhibition of the Outrageous and Sublime.” Beyond this overly exuberant advertisement is a squalid setup consisting of little more than a series of rundown sideshow booths and carts with assorted games and amusements of the meaner sort. To one side, urchins pitch pennies at lily pads floating in a small, scum-covered fountain while a bored carnie looks on. Nearby, the sound of cats hissing and fighting arises from behind a cart where a small crowd of ne’er-do-wells has gathered to cheer and place bets. Everywhere lurk faces pinched with suspicion or hunger—expressions worn by carnival workers and visitors alike. This is not the sort of place to be careless with a coin pouch.
Your investigations amongst the seedier portions of lower Magnimar, mostly in the vicinity of the docks where slavers would be gathering the slaves in their holds, reveals a rumor. It is said that a pickup for one of these slave runs has been scheduled for this very midnight at an old, boarded-up shoreline tavern in Dockway. The tavern was once known as the Puffy Pelican.
Elarwein confidenlty approaches the carnie in charge of the fountain game. My what a most interesting game this is. Could you explain to me what this is all about, I see lots of throwing and things getting wet
Bluff check
Tanjvats nervously rubbed his fingers as Elrawien approached the urchins. He wasn't sure how these people would react to her flamboyant, ostentatious nature, and so kept a close eye on the proceedings.
The carnie is somewhat startled by the elven woman addressing him. He stands up a little bit, clears his throat, but it becomes a wet cough. After his red-faced coughing fit, he spits a wad of phlegm to the side an goes on to explain the game the kids are trying at. Namely about tossing coins on the lily pads to see if they can get them to stay. If they get two on the same pad they get double, for three triple.
The game looks like it is set up more as an opportunity than an official event, the carnie taking advantage of the pads that are naturally growing in an old fountain. He asks Elrawein, "Care ta try yer hand lady? You look like you gots enough room in yer purse to risk a lil' game o' chance."
"Erawien, I wouldn't. We should not get distracted from the task at hand. "
Addressing the carnie, Dareon says, "We're looking for a man called 'The Amazing Zograthy'. Would you happen to know where his tent is?"
To the carnie,
You mean little old me try this game? laying the flirt on heavily.
Diplomacy
Looking at the woman, the carnie obviously contrary to his nature, decides to let her in on the trick. He steps aside from the urchins pitching coins to lower his voice to the woman "Yer friend has tha right of it. Yer best off not playin' Lady, they ain't no way them pads gonna hold no two er three coins. Yous best keepin' yer coin, not throwin it awy into a grungy old fountain."
He returns to his slouched posture beside the fountain, and addresses Dareon's question, pointing back around the corner of a larger stall to where they can find the old man's tent.
Following the directions you come to the abode of 'The Amazing Zograthy, Seer of the Dark', a small, well-patched tent crudely painted with mystical symbols and decorated with chicken bones and other oddments.
"Well...man knows his...er...personal taste in style, that's for sure. I remember the Masked Man saying that he'll be expecting money. How much have we got, and how much do you think he'll be expecting? For that matter, who's gonna be talking to him?"
Dareon stands impatiently outside of the tent, not exactly inconspicuous in his shining armor, tapping a foot.
My bad.
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While far off on his own little excursion, Oz remembered rather firmly that Zogarthy enjoyed money for his payments. Thinking back on the elven woman, however, he was sure they'd find... some... way of convincing him.
Regardless, he'd decided to take this part upon himself, and figured it would be best if, somehow, he got some bearings on the place. Rumors were one thing, but he'd much prefer to know more about what they'd potentially get themselves into. If he was correct, and he actually doubted this, he believed that Zograthy's info would no doubt lead them to this place, provided the pickup was the woman in question.
In the meantime, he tried to recollect what he could about the Puffy Pelican. He automatically assumed it was a shady area.
The docks themselves no doubt provided ample way of staying out of sight, and as it was the darker half, he decided that his compatriots would no doubt have their hands full at some point. In light of this, he decided it would be best to merely stay hidden unless an opportunity presented itself until midnight. He was almost certain that no one could find him at night. Arrogantly certain, yet, that didn't matter.
He did what he could to take note of the surroundings as he proceeded, making sure to avoid anyone that looked even remotely thuggish. Information was a currency in these parts, and eyes happened to be good at gaining such. Plus it's kind of hard to not tell tells of a man in a mask at night. Someone at the lodge once informed him that he reminded them of a shae, though even they hardly knew what that actually meant.
He never bothered to ask.
Faedrin is obviously surprised as the group works their way through Washer's Row, a look of incredulity stitched plainly upon his face.
These people *live* like this? Unbelievable! You'd think in place called 'Washers Row' they'd clean their own clothes. What a ghastly place!
Once they are standing before Zograthy's tent, Faedrin glances at Tanj, then the dwarf whose name he still doesn't know, then up to Dareon and offers, "I think perhaps my sister might best serve as our representative in this instance." Turning to his sister, he continues in a whisper, "Remember though, Wasp, he may prove more receptive toward temptations associated with his coin purse rather than your more... ah, typical flirtations."
Do we have any funds that we might be able to use to sweeten our information?
With a confident stance and a quick wink to her brother, Elrawien walks in the tent. Excuse me but I am interested in having my fortune told by the amazing Zograthy
Within the stuffy, cluttered tent is a table covered in blue velvet stitched with moons, stars, and arcane symbols. A dusty crystal ball and a dog-eared harrow deck sit upon it. Behind this table sits an aged, bald, Varisian man with threadbare purple robes and piercing eyes—the one and only Amazing Zograthy
Upon your entrance, he gestures broadly and states in a tremulous voice, “The Amazing Zograthy sees all and knows all. A double fist of silver for a turn of the cards or a vision in the crystal; a treble fist of gold for the secrets of the multiverse.”
Elrawein will hand over 2 gold pieces. Zograthy the Amazing, please tell me what the universe has planned for me. Is there love in my future, is there wealth? Oh please inform
Tanjvats followed Elrawien into the tent, as much to keep an eye on her as to satisfy his own curiosity. Fortune tellers had always fascinated him, and the one in his home town of Sandpoint had always been kind.
His eyes scanned from side to side, and paid special attention to the proprietor.
Tanjvats immediately noticed the salty smell, the stained beard and the milky eyes of Zograthy. He leaned over to Gaileyon and whispered, very softly, "Pesh addict. I don't think he's hallucinating now, however, but keep an eye out...they can get angry fast."