Taking the lead for a change, Colvare knocks, politely, and waits.
"Do y'all think that we should have some of the heavily armored or..." Benedetto says, glancing at Shaagrat, "...um, scarier types hang back? Just, y'know, so's we don't scare the students witless."
Just then, three students pass by, dressed in rough leathers, in an animated discussion about the ramifications of some basic points of necromantic theory.
"Or maybe it's not so much a problem."
Shagraat favors Ben with another toothy grin. "I'll do my best not to scare the pups."
Urthona also looks like he's trying to blend in with the surroundings, but actually failing to da that.
After a short pause, the door opens and a huge, middle-aged shifter woman, well over six feet tall, emerges. She wears a floral dress and an apron, her beefy arms are covered in shaggy brown hair, and in a flour-dusted hand she carries a rolling pin which she disconcertingly hits gently on the palm of the other hand as if daring anyone to take her on.
She gazes down at the party disdainfully, her gaze lingering for a moment on Urthona, before seeming to decide (doubtless correctly) that they could not possibly pose her any threat. “Yes?” she grunts.
After a short pause, the door opens and a huge, middle-aged shifter woman, well over six feet tall, emerges. She wears a floral dress and an apron, her beefy arms are covered in shaggy brown hair, and in a flour-dusted hand she carries a rolling pin which she disconcertingly hits gently on the palm of the other hand as if daring anyone to take her on.
She gazes down at the party disdainfully, her gaze lingering for a moment on Urthona, before seeming to decide (doubtless correctly) that they could not possibly pose her any threat. “Yes?” she grunts.
"Hello, we are looking for a man named Varen, who we were told lives at this address. We have some important business to discuss that could be very financially beneficial to him. Is he at home?"
"You friends of his? I'd like to know where the little sod is too - he owes me this month's rent. I haven't seen him for the last couple of days - don't think he's been in. Not that it is easy to tell, state of his room...."
Mirra steps forward "Could we take a look at his room? Any money we find you can have for his rent."
"Who in Kyber are you? I don't let just anyone swan into my tenants' rooms. Get off my steps before they have to carry you off!"
She snarls, revealing pointed teeth, and the hair on her arms bristles.
Rayne sighed at the spectacle unfolding. "We're actually working on behalf of Varen's employer. It has become an interest of ours to see to his well-being since we have not had contact with him lately. My associate here," he gestured to Mirra "is an Inquisitive who is aiding us in our efforts. Any assistance you can offer would be greatly appreciated. Also, how much does master Varen owe you? I would be happy to level his debt with you personally in exchange for your cooperation."
"Who in Kyber are you? I don't let just anyone swan into my tenants' rooms. Get off my steps before they have to carry you off!"
She snarls, revealing pointed teeth, and the hair on her arms bristles.
Mirra reaches into her belt pouch and pulls out her Id papers, "My name is Mirra d'Medani and I am an Medani inquisitive and as Rayne told you I am conducting an investigation for your tenants employer. We believe that Varen is mixed up with something that could lead him to harm and we need to find him."
"Sorry, ma'am. We didn't catch your name. Is this your boardin' house, then?"
The shifter seems mollified by Rayne's calm demeanor , though she peers suspiciously at Mirra's papers before grunting noncommitally.
"Year, this is my house - I'm Gora. Medani, huh? I didn't know the little creep had any employment, just thought he hung about the university. What's he mixed up in?" she asks, betraying a certain morbid curiosity.
"We have reason to believe he may be involved, perhaps unwittingly, in the smuggling of Xen'drik artifacts. We would like to search his room for any clues regarding his current whereabouts or activities. Would you be so kind?"
A calculating look crosses Gora's face. "He owes me a hundred gold in back rent." She folds her arms and glares, daring someone to challenge her blatant lie.
A calculating look crosses Gora's face. "He owes me a hundred gold in back rent." She folds her arms and glares, daring someone to challenge her blatant lie.
"I think we can manage that. After all, this is and awfully nice place," Colvare grins, "the money on the way out though I think."
Gora looks annoyed (probably thinking she should have asked for more, given how easily the money was agreed) and shows the group into the house and up a flight of stairs. The room is small, with little more than a bed and a desk with some bookshelves above it. There is barely enough room for the party to all get in. Gora watches them from the doorway.
Shagraat waits in the hall for the others to search the room. He's keeping his eyes peeled for flying camouflaged elven assassins wielding knives of death. Or anything else that looks threatening.
Benedetto suffles through some stuff, trying to be helpful, but not really knowing where to look.
"Mirra, does this look important to you?"
Urthona looks through all this written stuff. He clearly has no notion, what it is all about. "Perhaps you should look here. If Ah'd place anythin' important in this mess, would be there."
The volumes seem to be fairly standard textbooks. There are a few scraps of paper shoved inside with scribbles on, but these seem to be mundane - shopping lists, the address of a pawn shop, and so on. There appears to be no notebook like that which might contain the Professor's translation of the obelisk.
Behind the desk is a sheet of paper, which looks like it slipped behind and was forgotten. It looks like the last page of a letter and starts abruptly in mid-sentence:
“your way to the Lyrandar tower for embarkation. In the meantime, lie low and see no one – enclosed is a Kundarak promissory note which should tide you over the intervening day and night, and allow you to purchase any items you might need. Our mutual benefactor will need you on hand in Stormreach. If we are to ensure that credit is given its proper due, absolute secrecy must be maintained.
“Good flying!
“Harmal”
Mirra looks around the small apartment trying to see if she can get a time line on when the last time anyone was here.
"It seems we are heading to Stormreach."
Despite Gora's comment, the amount of dust (or lack of it) suggests someone was there at most a day or two ago.
"So it's at least possible that he's still 'lying low' and has not left yet. We might stake out Lyrandar tower as well, or seek more information from Harmal. Our employer may have an opinion of this as well."
How far to the address we have for Harmal? Is there still time before nightfall to check that address out before meeting back up with Alidaber?
Harmal's address is in Lower Central, in an area called North Towers. It should be a few minutes ride to get there.
"How frequent are the flights to Stormreach? maybe we can work out which one he will be on, or was on, if they are infrequent enough?
Mirra looks around the small apartment trying to see if she can get a time line on when the last time anyone was here.
Also, separately, Mirra knows that Lyrandar flying ships don't fly according to a schedule - they are chartered on an individual basis and at extraordinary expense.
Rayne simply stood, arms crossed, just inside the doorway as the others searched the room. He kept his back to the shifter woman (and undoubtedly obscured her view of the room significantly) and took in the information as it was presented.
"I agree that determining the frequency of departures to Stormreach is a fine idea. I also believe that swinging by Harmal's place before dark is another fine idea. It's possible that we will intercept the boy there and, if not, at least we might learn more about Harmal and his involvement in this whole ordeal."
Nodding at Rayne, "Shall we go pay a visit to this Harmal character? We can reassess our options once we find out if he's met a grim fate at the end of an elven blade. The presence of the killer at the gambling hall makes me think this fellow is probably very exposed right now. When we go, we should go with caution." Shagraat idly rubs the healed wound in his side as he says this last bit.
Depends on what Mirra found out.
"Great. So the gambling hall was knocked over while we were there, and this place was searched prior to us getting here. That probably means Harmal is getting a dose of dark elf loving right now. Though maybe not, since whoever we're racing against did not get the ledger. Maybe they haven't made the connection to Harmal yet?"
Mirra turns to the shifter women, "So who else has went through your tenants room and how much did they pay you?"
Mirra turns to the shifter women, "So who else has went through your tenants room and how much did they pay you?"
Gora looks shifty (no pun intended) for a moment, and then responds beligerantly, "I don't know what you mean."
(She is a lousy liar - Sense Motive is a formality. CHA is definately her dump stat.)
To Colvare; "Looks like ya get ta keep your hundred gold after all."
"Hey, we had a deal! Look, these guys came by yesterday, thought maybe they were Watch but they had Thrane accents - can always tell those bastards," she adds, with a pointed glare at Colvare. "They gave me some money, like you, poked around, took nothing and left. Didn't know it was important."
"Yes, a deal," Rayne smirked, turning to face the shifter woman. "The curious thing about making deals is that, unless it's on paper, it's hard to provide a burden of proof. I don't suppose you've got a copy of Varen's lease agreement lying around somewhere to explain what sort of price-gouging insanity has lead to a 100 gold piece rent tab, hm? By my estimation, it would take decades to amass that kind of debt renting a place like this."
The changeling's expression turned decidedly hostile, his flesh subtley morphing to lend further darkness to his countenence. "Are you familiar with the term 'obstruction of justice?' It means that you can be thrown in prison for providing false witness during an investigation. You will not get your exorbitant fee from us. Consider it a mercy that we're letting you sleep in a bed tonight, and not in a cell..."
His expression finishes the sentence for him without speaking it. "...or a body bag."
Gora looks like she might rip off Rayne's head and kick it down the stairs, but a flicker of caution crosses her face.
"Get out before I call my brothers," she hisses, rolling pin pounding her palm. She doesn't seem to be bluffing now.
A grin flashed across the changeling's face. "With pleasure." He turned to his companions and motioned to leave. "We have what we need. Let's get going."
He stepped past the scowling shifter and made his way outside.
Benedetto drops ten gold on the table as he leaves. "Much obliged to you tellin' us 'bout the Thrane fellahs, ma'am. And you might just as well clean out Varen's room and put it back on the market. That lad won't be back,"
Back in the street, Shagraat turns to his fellow investigators. "Harmal's?"
"Yepp"
The front door is slammed behind the party with a vengeance.
Another short ride, under the shadow of Skyway and through the glittering towers of Central, and the party are deposited near Harmal’s address in North Towers. The area seems to comprise of various, upscale boutiques and shops, together with a selection of specialist bookshops and sellers of antiquities.
Harmal’s address is one of the latter. Situated in a quiet corner of a tower, a discreet sign above the door says “Sabram Harmal – Dealer in Antiquities”. The shop itself looks closed, with the shutters down, even though other places around appear to be open. The door is locked.
"Well, do we barge right in, look 'round the back, or call the Watch and explain our concerns?"