The leader of the 4-man patrol picks up a coin and turns it over in his hand "There really is nothing you want to tell me?"
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Nemesis decides honesty is the best policy. 'Truth is a Fire that destroys all not of its wick. Let none who Burn with the Queen's Power fear to face it, for its Power and Hers are of the same tallow.' She recites inwardly.
She turns to the guards. "We are here to shed light on the deceits of local politics. Clarity is in our interests and those with whom we affiliate, just as it is yours. This little man, however, has confessed to being a career lie-peddler who sought to tar us with false allegiance. He says he was employed to do so by a tall woman with black and white hair."
"Are you saying that Forest Marhal Gavirk is deceiving someone? That is not an allegation to make lightly!"
"Nagaji, watch your words. Forest Marshal Gavirk is the leader of Nirmathas and Tamran. He is not a tall woman! That red-head aasimar said something about the deceits of local politics. Best explain."
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"We know nothing of Forest Marshal Gavirk, I'm sure whoever we're looking for cannot possibly be that person. The halfling said it was someone with black and white hair that sent him to harass us, certainly a different person than the noble personage you speak of. Long story short, this halfling tried to plant coins on us to mark us as traitors. You want to take him into custody?"
"Ah, oh, so it was all one big misunderstanding! We are sorry for that my dear Nagaji. We will take the halfling into custody, thank you for making our job easier."
You hand over the halfling and they take their leave. You decide to head back to the lodge to check on Fuzzfoot, who was not feeling well when you arrived in town. He is feeling better now and eager to head out to the the Forest Bounty with you to eat something
The interior of this enormous wooden long house is brightly lit and filled with the sounds of laughter, music, and merriment. Food scents mingle with the smoke of cooking fires and tobacco pipes.
Servants carry food and drinks from the open kitchen area to the various wooden benches and tables that fill the hall. Many of the patrons are armed and armored, proudly bearing the insignia of local militia groups on their cloaks and tabards, along with the sword and tree symbol of Nirmathas.
You attract immediate attention upon entering the feast hall, causing all conversation and music to stop momentarily as the patrons turn
to examine the new arrivals... After a few moments the music starts again and conversation picks up again.
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Oleander strides into the tavern and orders a drink.
"It's hot enough to melt bees wax. And when the wind blows the wrong direction is smells like a dwarves rear end." she says offering a loud opinion.
"Surely there is something good in the swamps." she adds hopeful that someone will pipe up, in which case she'll buy them a drink.
"The swamps smell like that dwarf friend of yours!" one militia-man replies to Oleander's statement. He happily accepts a drink.
"So, what brings you people to Tamran?"
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Fuzzfoot orders enough food for 3 people, and starts looking around while he waits. Keep an eye open for Pathfinder glyphs - someone is showing one around to give us a bad name.
Sitting with the interested militia man, he says "Food looks good. Boy, am I hungry! You must get thirsty working as hard as you do. Any news on what's happening around here? Any good stories to tell?"
"A tall woman with black and white hair? Is she hot? Nah, can't remember anyone with that description" the man takes a good long drink of his ale before setting the mug down.
"Good stories, not really. They say that supplies are dwindling, supposedly the Pathfinder Society is behind that but others blame the Molthuni. I couldn't care less one way or the others, I just want a belly full with food and a nice mug of ale to go along with it. So what business are you in?"
"Good luck to you, guiding people when you don't know the way!"
A man walks up to you and your companion, he walks with a noticeable limp and is missing his left arm from the elbow down.
“Now is not a good time for strangers to be asking questions in Tamran. There are rumors that spies walk among us and that Pathfinders are among those spies. I find it a little hard to believe, given Pathfinders helped me out in a time of need,” he remarks, gesturing with his hand to his amputated arm.
He then looks each of you in the eyes "Are you pathfinders?"
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"There is more" says Oleander slowly " to being a quality guide than having walked every trail before." She shurgs at the man "Though it does help."
"These are dangerous times, especially if one were a pathfinder. How did you lose your arm, and what would you want to say to me if I were a pathfinder." asks Oleander
<- extra +2 if he is human (I didn't assume he was)
"I would share my thoughts with a pathfinder, as years ago a pathfinder by the name of Marcos Farabellus saved m. I only miss my arm, instead of being buried in a shallow grave. Alas, I mistook you for members of the Society, good night to you"
He turns around and walks away.
The man sits down alone at a table in a corner, where Oleander approaches him. Fuzzfoot sees plenty of people looking at you, given that you are strangers here. However they give the amputee a lot of breathing room out of respect.
"My question still isn't answered. Are you a pathfinder?" he asks Oleander
"Good, sit down." the man replies
“So here is my offer. I know something of these bandits you seek, and I will tell you, but first one of you must drink this,” he
says, producing a small blue bottle from his pocket.
"Drinking it will ensure my trust. And no, I won't allow you to examine it."
Oleander trusts the man, while looking him deep into his eyes she drinks the potion. Just after she has finished the potion the man fires a question at her, barely waiting for an answer before he asks the next. He holds his hand up if anyone other than Oleander starts speaking.
“How long have you been working for Molthune?”
“Who is your Molthuni contact?”
“Do any of your allies have ties to Molthune?”
After Oleander answers his questions the man seems to drop his guard a bit
"I apologize for that, one can never be too sure as I am sure you understand. Two weeks ago, while my men and I were patrolling along the edge of the Fangwood south of the city, we spotted a group of bandits attacking a smuggler in the woods. We gave chase, and tracked them as they fled west, but lost the trail when they hit the river. I don’t think they simply forded or swam; I’d bet good money your bandits have a ship capable of sailing up the Marideth River. I wish I knew more, but I hope this information can help you.
When you see your Master of Swords, Marcos Farabellus, again can you give him my regards? My name is Imad Sharras."
You stay for a bit in the Forest Bounty and then make your way back to the lodge to get a good night of sleep in. When you are nearly there a small bird drops a letter in front of you.