"Do we all go after him then?"
"Cast your spell changeling and lead the way."
Gil nods, "I can link three and myself for about an hour and a half. I will cast when we are closer to the shipping company. Do you want to keep our association a secret?"
The group head back to the Blue Suns Warehouse. The new band of "persuaders" peel off and head inside. They find the bugbear inside, talking with a foreman. As they approach, the bugbear looks incredulous at another band of adventurers that wants to talk to him in half-an-hour. The foreman, a swarthy human, asks, "Trouble, Gral?"
“Jeebo,” Rolund growls as he places one hand on his blade.
"Where is the little runt? Tell us, and there will be no trouble." Janosz glares daggers at the foreman.
Things go quiet in the warehouse. Gral Muut just stares but the foreman steps foreward. "What is it with you people?" he asks angrily, fists balled, "Can't you leave a guy alone?" A few other scowling warehousemen begin walking over, one slapping a crowbar in his palm menacingly. They form a loose circle around the adventurers. The workers at the Blue Suns warehouses clearly stick together.
Gral Muut sighs. "Guys, it's OK," he says to his colleagues. He cautiously eyes Rolund and Janosz. "Don't know why everyone is so interested in Jeeboo right now. But you'll find him in his shop. It's in Dragonseyes. There's no sign outside but it's the first door down the alley next to the Hot House. And if you don't know where the Hot House is, ask a grown-up. Now can I get back to work?"
“For your sake, you better be telling the truth,” Rolund looks at the circle of workers menacingly. “Otherwise…”
"You might want to put your box-opener away before I jam it so far up your ass that it'll tickle your tonsils every time you swallow", Janosz tells the crowbar-wielder matter-of-factly as the party walks out. "I won't be in this good a mood if we have to come back."
"Good work, guys. The Hot House is probably a goblin whorehouse; I'm sure Rod knows where it is."
The foreman spits on the floor as the adventurers leave, but no one tries to stop them.
Nevharath will diplomacize, playing the part of a foreigner looking for some directions.
Gil tags along, looking similar to the kalashtar, maybe a sister. Hearing his knack for words, she just smiles and nods encouragingly.
I'll help too
diplo
+2 to Nev's check.
Ezreal's encyclopaedic knowledge of the whorehouses in Sharn quickly leads them to the place. It is in Dragoneyes, the red-light district that greets travellers coming into Sharn by road or lightning rail, lurking about the lower levels of Tavick's Landing like a nasty rash - hot, clammy and prone to occasional violent eruptions. The Hot House is a pretty blatant establishment, with a big sign of a "tasteful" female human nude illuminated and animated by illusion magic. It's still fairly early, so a few girls are outside trying to grab some passing trade. The bored expressions on their faces are hardly enticing, though, and they are mostly ignored by the passing stevedores, warehousemen and workers from the Cogs.
The alley next to the bordello is deserted, dark and narrow and filled with discarded rubbish. It runs in the tiny gap between the foundations of two skyscrapers, their upper floors disappearing into the gathering twilight. On the opposite side to the Hot House there is a low door, perhaps five feet high, badly-fitting and slightly ajar. Its paint is peeling off, showing the wood undeneath. Above the door there might have been some sort of sign directly daubed onto the bricks, but it has faded to illegibility now.
As the party stands outside the small door, Janosz mutters a quick incantation. "In case he tries to run. Ez, let's put Kadesh up on a gargoyle out in the main street to act as sentinel while we chat up the merchant. Speaking of sentinels... Runzyl, come with me. The rest of you, stay back here." Janosz pulls a wooden pole out of his magical quiver and wanders down the alley, poking the piles of trash.
Looking at way the trash is kicked about and piled up, Janosz can see that a group of medium-sized humanoids have been down this alley in the reasonably recent past. But there is no one hiding here now.
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Runzyl nods and follows the Shadow Marcher's lead, adopting a guarded and careful stance while remaining vigilant for hidden dangers. He takes Falla Caesenri into his hands, the weapon's enchantment pulsing softly, but he keeps it low and to the side. While he certainly wanted to be prepared, the elf knew it was unwise to bear open hostility in such matters.
"Huh. Let's hope the recent passers-by weren't Croke's bunch. Now, let's see the man, shall we? I go first, with Runzyl. Rod, you're next, then it's everybody else. Nevharath, you bring up the rear while keeping an eye out for surprises." Janosz pushes open the door and jumps in.
“I will watch our backs,” Rolund interrupts before the kalashtar agrees.
You are too trusting, Shadowmarcher. Rolund sends his thoughts through the changeling's spell to Frogshanks and Farlowe. We have only just met him. He may break at the first sign of violence.
"At what point in the order do you want me, then?" Nevharath asks.
"Stick by me. Then Rolund will know I'm staying out of trouble."
When they get in the alley and out of sight of the street, Matilda's clothes and face shift and change, revealing a cleaner version of the bugbear visage from before. May not help, but if you lot will travel with a goblinoid, maybe that will convince him to hear you out. If you see the inspector, sing out. I'll shift the goblin, too.
"I think we'd seem less obvious if we went into the cathouse, guys,.....I mean, what are we doing, standing around out here?..."
Nevharath will shift his appearance to that of a nondescript human warrior once more.
Janosz opens the door. Inside it is pitch-dark. With his night vision he can make out a passage, perhaps ten feet wide and thirty feet long. There are wooden shelves running down the sides, heavy with tomes, scrolls, potion vials and other curios, and a table and another door at the end.
It looks like there has been a fight. Several of the shelves have been tipped over on to the floor, scattering paper and glass. A foot, shod in a sturdy leather boot, pokes out from under the nearest but the room is otherwise deserted. There is a smell of scorched hair.
"Aw, f!%& it. Looks like the baddies got here first." Janosz motions to Runzyl to follow him. "We'll look at the door. Rod, check out the owner of the foot."
Rod, with some assistance, pulls the shelves aside. The body underneath is a bulky-looking human dressed in worker's clothes, very dead. He has a cudgel and a long dagger concealed in his jacket. No one recognises him.
The door opens on to a small, box-like room, kitted out as a basic living quarters for someone about the size of a goblin and with the expected level of cleanliness. It is also uninhabited. There are no other exits.
"Blood and a dead thug. Guess we don't need to warn him that he's in danger. Think he escaped?"
"There is a trap door under that table" Nevharath says, pointing.
Bugbear-Gil looks a bit annoyed that she overlooked such an obvious escape hatch, but she gets down to look at it more closely, checking for traps that might be on it before trying to open it.
Bugbear-Gil looks around at the others to see if they are prepared or if there is something else they wish to check first.
If they are ready, knock on the trap door and say in Goblin, "Jeebo? You there? You OK?" If there is no response or at least no violent response, Gil will pull the door open using the door as cover against any possible threats awaiting within.
Heal
"The dead man was electrocuted. I've seen this before."
The trapdoor opens to show a shaft leading down into the dark with a rusty iron ladder bolted to the wall. From the smell, it probably leads to the sewers.
"Rod - do you need more than the head for your speak with dead trick? If not, take it with you. Use his knife - it'll serve the bastard right. I'll give tracking these punks a shot. It should be easier in the sewers than up on the streets..." Janosz climbs down the rungs and starts looking for footprints or other signs of recent passage.
"I think that I need the whole corpse, to give the best answers. The head alone,.....might give me something though.
We could.....stow him in the tent,...."
I'll stick him in the tent, unless somebody doesn't like the idea enough to argue.
Janosz can see that the ladder has been traversed recently. Climbing down, he finds himself in one of the main sewers below Tavick's Landing. Sewage flows thickly down the channel, with a raised walkway running alongside where the ladder comes down. Intricate brickwork arches overhead with vaults, arches and pillars - quite decorative considering hardly anyone is going to see it apart from rats.
There is no light, but with his night vision Janosz can see another human corpse sprawled face down in the flow, the body bumping gently against a pile of accumulated solid filth. A crossbow bolt projects from his back. Looking about, he can see where the crossbow was wedged and the tripwire set up to shoot anyone coming down the ladder. He also see footprints in the muck on the walkway - one small set and probably two more larger sets, both heading in the same direction.
"Hehe. He's ahead of the pursuers, so far. Let's go, slowpokes!"
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Nevharath buries his mouth and nose in the crook of his elbow when met with the noxious sewer environment. An audible UGH escapes his otherwise careful demeanor.
Ezreal scowls at the open trap door. "Delightful. A good fence should be expected to have a bolt hole I imagine. A Cultist of the Dragon Below would probably also have an access point to places where they might perform their foul rites. The sewers descending into the goblinoid pre-history below Sharn certainly fit the bill."
The mage grasps one of the finger bones on his necklace and with a word invokes it to light his path. Then he shimmies down the ladder to pursue Croke and his men before they can cut off the last lead to recovering the khyber shards.
Rolund is the last to enter and follow the group; carrying his everburning torch high.
"Eeeew. More dead dudes."
Stickem both in the tent.