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When the Pathfinders arrive at Gold Street, there’s not much to see. The jagged cobblestone street is lined with storefronts looted to the buildings’ bones. Entire walls have been hauled away, stripped not just of stone and wood but also the nails that secured them, and anything remotely valuable was picked clean years ago. One shop stands relatively intact, however—Torandril’s Finery. Its windows are boarded shut, though lights inside appear to shine between the planks. When Arisha starts asking questions to passersby, they point her toward the still standing shop.
Inside, two things are readily noticeable. One is the apparent proprietor: a dark-haired Chelish woman in her mid-30’s with a genial and professional manner. The other is the eight, obviously armed guards packed into the small shop with her: these men and women appear just as professional, but not nearly as friendly. The woman grins as the Pathfinders enter her store (unfortunately the goat must stay outside; there’s simply not enough room) and she nods. “Welcome, I am Cessia Florianthus. I sell information. What can I do for you?” she asks briskly.
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Arisha takes in the guards with wide eyes. "I can see why this one is still standing."
Breaking her gaze from the imposing octet of mercenaries, she smiles at Cessia. "My pleasure, I'm sure," she says, "We're looking for a man that sells magical trinkets. I heard that his name was Jacks... something. There are a surprising number of Jacks in this town, but he does ship work in addition to pawning arcane do-dads. We were hoping someone could direct us to him, and just about everyone directed us to you."
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Despite the armed mean looking guards, this place felt familiar. A shop. This woman dealt in information. Her father was in general goods. But buying and selling were the same.
She'll step up next to Arisha and add simply, We'd like to trade with this man, and wish to trade with you for his location. What would be the price?
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Once inside the building, Arthur can't help but shake his head when Arisha and Niome immediately declare the group's priority. Now if this woman is half as though as she seems, we might be in trouble...
"This Jacks...", adds Arthur, his eyes apparently busy in lingering on details of the room, "he has come into possession of a particular item we would like to buy."
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Cessia raises an eyebrow at Arisha, apparently skeptical of her honeyed words. She smiles as Niome and Lord Arthur address her, though, charmed by their polite requests. “Ah, yes, Jax Telandril. Information about him, for you, would run…” She does a quick calculation in her head. “Let’s say half a pound. I must be upfront with you, though: I do not know his location. I can tell you some other things about him, though.”
She folds her hands together on the table in front of her. “Are you still interested in Telandril? Or would you like to purchase information about someone else?” she asks with a courteous smile.
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Till notes the massive presence of guards, and gives them a cordial tip of his hat. She must be running a good business, to afford so many. Her information must be good. Hopefully, she's a bit discreet as well.
After Arisha has asked about Jax, Till adds his questions. "If you have any information on Amalia Wraxton, we might also be interested. She hasn't been seen recently, I heard. Also, is Habar Curl up to anything these days?" He thinks he could pass off these questions to his companions as if he were merely trying to cover up the true object of their interest.
Cessia gestures to the table in front of her, as if to indicate that she will provide information once payment is provided.
Till’s hat tip to the guards is met with stony silence. Their eyes flit to his motion, but they otherwise remain fairly motionless, watching the group with the well trained focus of well-paid mercenaries. Cessia’s reaction to Till’s questions is certainly more animated. Both of her eyebrows raise, and she leans forward with an elbow on the table in front of her and holds her chin in the palm of her hand, grinning, as she addresses him. “Amalia Wraxton? Habar Curl? Really? You’re willing to barter just to ask me about them? You must be new here. Why, that itself is quite interesting,” she notes with a grin.
“They’re well known enough figures here. Common enough knowledge that I won’t charge you anything for them. Amalia is of course a talented writer, the idealist leader of the White Thistles, and the provocateur of the second time Cheliax burned down the city when everyone saw the debut of her play, Abrogail I. It was certainly dangerous enough that she’s gone into hiding, though she still has many fans.” Cessia shifts back to standing up as she continues. “Habar Curl is from Galt - a grey gardener - and he never leaves that makeshift fort they’ve set up. He’s a freedom fighter, willing to spill whatever Loyalist blood it takes to win that freedom. And despite the amount of blood spilled on both sides, it’s been a bit of a stalemate overall.” Cessia crosses her arms, but she’s still got a cunning smile on. “Very interesting…” she adds quietly, thinking out loud as she surveys the group of Pathfinders.
Till realizes that he might have made a mistake, but tries to hide it as best as he can. Which is not really well. He shrugs off the woman's interest, over-acting his indifference. "Psh. Anyone could have hold us that, indeed. I was hoping for some actually interesting information. No clue as to where Amalia is hiding?"
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"Well thank you, milady. As my friends here says, we were expecting a little more, especially on Jax. We need to find him out if we want to buy his item. But if that's all you know..." Arthur turns and makes a gesture, suggesting he's about to leave.
If the woman does not add anything, Lord Arthur will excuse himself out of the building. "Well, as for the others, they are personal interests of my friend, here. He's one of her fans, although he will never admit it. Perhaps you can give him a few tips on how to date the girl properly, milady. What she likes, what she doesn't like, her favoured color or something along that line. In the meantime, I think I will wait on the outside."
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Cessia continues to grin at Till, watching him stumble over his bluff. “True, just about anyone could have told you that - provided they’ve been trapped here for the past five years like everyone else,” she teases. “As far as Amalia Wraxton goes: if I did know where she was hiding, that kind of information would be far more than the likes of you could afford, I’m sure,” she adds, casting an appraising eye over the group.
Seeing Lord Arthur’s attempt to leave and recognizing it for a bargaining ploy, she responds courteously, “I apologize if my explanation was too cryptic for your tastes. I could not point you to a precise house in which the man lives, but your friend indicated that you all know that he works on the ships in Docktown. It would be rather opportunistic of me to ask you to pay for something you already know,” she explains. “With payment, I could tell you a little more about his recent activities, though.”
Cessia smiles at Arisha. “Now that I believe I would be able to help you with. Half a pound sounds fair.”
Lastly, Cessia tries to soothe the irritated Aggie. “I assure you, my information comes from reliable sources and can be quite valuable. But I would no more sell common knowledge than I would charge you to breathe the air in my shop,” she explains cooly. “If you’d like more than common answers, you should ask more than common questions,” she concludes with a smile.
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Arthur prefers not to ask about Olandril's other alter egos, in order not to suggest dangerous associations of ideas to Cessia's mind. Instead, the Taldan lord grins at the woman with a mischievous smile. "Well, now...Seems like we've come to an agreement. Tell us more about him milady. His recent activities, you said? I'm listening".
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Glad that others are covering for his bungling of the situation, Till fades into the background. He gives one of the guard another nod, just to have something to do.
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Arthur prefers not to ask about Olandril's other alter egos, in order not to suggest dangerous associations of ideas to Cessia's mind. Instead, the Taldan lord grins at the woman with a mischievous smile. "Well, now...Seems like we've come to an agreement. Tell us more about him milady. His recent activities, you said? I'm listening".
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Cessia utters a smugly polite one-syllable laugh hearing Arisha’s plan. “Good luck getting in touch. It’s unlikely that you’ll be able to see him without an appointment - and that could take weeks. Unless you’ve got a particularly juicy business proposition, of course,” the information broker adds. She bids goodbye to the Pathfinders as they head out.
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The trapdoor in the warehouse leads down an old but sturdy metal ladder into the dark belly of the Guts. The dank tunnels reek of musty seawater that oozes from the stone ceiling and leaves the walls coated with a wet sheen. A few fresh torches suggest the derelict tunnel is still in use. It is cramped and labyrinthine, requiring single file as the Pathfinders find their way through the tunnels. They soon come to a fork, torches illuminating two divergent paths that look equally damp.
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Aggie's goat does its strange candle-glowing ritual as it floats down beside her as she descends the ladder. Once at the bottom, she draws a well-used, but wicked falchion. She points at the back of line, and her goat Aratare grumpily heads there.
Aggie grins, her little pointed tusks glimmering in the magical lights.
"Well, I'm always right, so let's go left!"
Till acts modest when the time comes to enter the Guts. He lets Lord Ockham lead the way an positions himself in the middle of the pack. "Well, our friend is well-prepared it seems. There's light burning which suggests recent activity here." He draws his shortbow and checks his quiver, despite the cramped quarters making it unlikely he'll get a good shot off.
Aggie's comment on her sense of direction draws a quizzical look from him, but he goes along with it. "If you're always right, does that mean that we should always go left?" He looks as if he remembers something. "Isn't that the best way to get somewhere, in a place like this? Take one direction and stick with it?"
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As the Pathfinders round the corner, they see a huge white grub silently gnashing its circular mouth of teeth on a giant rat. The larva is the size of a human child, and it reacts poorly to the intrusion on its meal, turning toward Lord Arthur with aggressive intent. It rolls off the rat’s corpse, trying to right itself and giving the Pathfinders the first reaction.
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Till
Aggie
Noam
Arisha
Lord Arthur
Niome
Grub
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"What is it?" Niome calls from way way back in the line. If someone answers, "A grub? Can you describe it?"
"Oh!" she breathes in delight. "A Phaenicia Sericata... a maggot, a giant one by the sounds of it!" she's practically bouncing in the back trying to see. "Um... things to know. It will blossom into a fly, oh a giant one, that would be interesting. Not helpful though. It's slow, like most non intelligent creatures it is immune to mind alternating spells. Maggots are commonly used to clean wounds when magical healing isn't available. I wonder if giants might use giant... I'm sorry. It can also spew its last meal out to dissuade predators, which I'd imagine we are considered now."
Till lights up when he learns the nature of what thery're up against. "Oh, what a wonderful plot: Adventurers underground, in a filthy sewer. And then: They encounter a foul creature that is sure to draw a reaction from the audience!" He quickly falls back into character, spewing some lines that could only have come from a play of questionable quality. "Take heart, my fellows! If we stay strong and remember our teachings, such a creature may pose no threat to us, no matter its disgusting nature. Into the breach, fellows. Let us face this foe with steel and wit!"
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Till launches into an inspiring rallying cry as Noam moves up and Niome displays her vast knowledge of insects and their ilk. As Arisha disappears to find a way to get around the creature, Noam simply moves up and takes a swing. Guided by Till’s inspiring oratory, his blade finds its mark. The giant maggot hardly has time to make a chittering sound in protest before Noam slices the grub open and it lies twitching in a growing pool of its own light blue hemolymph.
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With the grub no longer posing any threat, the Pathfinders are free to continue their exploration. The tunnels of the Guts continue to twist and turn, their winding paths and damp walls living up to the name. Arisha’s doubling back leads through some long twisting paths, but they eventually lead back around. It looks like going right would have avoided the maggot, but in the end everything proved to work out anyway.
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"Is it dead?" Arisha peers down the hall as they begin to move again. "Good."
She squeezes past the others for a moment to reach Noam. "Noam," she says, touching the half-orc's shoulder. By the time Noam turns to meet Arisha's penetrating eyes, she's forgotten that Arisha was there and Arisha has slipped back to her position in the line.
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Till's speech is strangely invigorating. Niome feels the strong urge to charge forth and bash something with her staff. Luckily it does not last long because Niome is not particularly good at charging forth or bashing things.
Moving forward, she does stop and spend as much time studying the large severed maggot as her companions will allow. Making mental notes that large versions of any insect allows for much easier examination. Maybe it would be a good use of an enlargement spell? she muses more to herself than to anyone else.