Whiskeyjack stumped along with the others, making no real effort to talk or debate the various clues they had found. There seemed to be some circumstantial evidence that someone or something else was involved in the Morast disappearances, but nothing solid. The face disturbed him, though. Someone that would do that wasn't your average ghoul or bloodthirsty killer. This spoke of someone with seriously deep seated psychological problems. Hopefully the blood caiman had taken care of him, but if not...
The shopkeeper folds his hands, looking at all of you expectanctly.
"You hev your information, is there anything else?"
"Ken ye be tellin' us where, t' find th' auction houses here? We be new t' th' town, an' havenae found aur way around ye'."
"Hmm, Vladka Kostel. I don't recognise the name. There are quite a few auction houses in town though. I can take us over to them but I wouldn't know which one to start in unless anyone has any ideas?"
"Oh, and would you be so kind to write the name down? Have a hard time understanding your accent."
Arval adds with no notion as to the rudeness of what he just said.
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"Ah, Vladka! Yes, she's a colorful personality!" Eldon says with a laugh.
"She works for a specialty medical auctioneer named Ledov's Chirurgery Merchants. And now I think about it, the 'chirurgery' part sounds like the kind of thing we're looking for."
Zbraslav nods assertively. "Da, zat is correct. Now leave me be."
The cramped, twisting streets of Lepidstadt are difficult to navigate, but thankfully the businesses are not far from one another. The group make their way to the auctioneer, trying to beat the eventual closure of all the business for the night.
The party finds themselves in a dingy warehouse that's been well-decorated and converted into an auctioneer's. The auctions for the day are over and you see two people making their way around, cleaning up. One is a balding, pretentious-looking man with tufts of hair above his ears, the other a red-haired woman in green silk. The man walks over.
"Hmph. I am Master Otto Klud, who are you and what do you want? We are closing up for the day."
Arval nudges Eldon to get his attention and whispers in his ear.
"You do the talking!"
Eldon immediately starts babbling to Otto about the tools. Vladka looks up from across the room.
"I remember that man, strange fellow. High hat with green glasses."
Otto silences her with a glare before fixing his gaze on Eldon.
"I appreciate your deference and courtesy but we do not reveal the names of our buyers to anyone who happens to walk in the door."
"A very wise policy Sir, but we are not just anybody. Please allow me to introduce myself"
Iozif will walk up and shake the man's hand, while attempting to muster all of the prestige and authority his (admittedly minor) position gives him.
"I am Dr Iozif Drabardi, researcher in defensive magics at the university of Lepidstadt and assistant to the city judiciary. My companions and I are here on rather unfortunate business I'm afraid. I trust you have heard about the capture of the beast that has been terrorising the area?"
Iozif won't wait for an answer but will plough on regardless:
"Well our investigations have turned up a link between the owner of these tools and the beast itself. We, and the city of Lepidstadt itself, would much appreciate it if you could assist us in our investigations. If not I'm afraid we will have to contact the judges to meet with you in person"
How dare he!
Eldon's quite offended when HE is referred to as 'anyone who happens to walk in the door,' but manages to calm himself while Iozif tries to convince the man.
"It's of utmost importance we get the information we desire," Eldon adds when Iozif is done talking. "These tools have likely been used from practices of an impure nature. The kind of practices that shouldn't be allowed to continue."
Whiskeyjack elbows Eldon out of the way, the halfling's tongue for once not opening every door. "Wha' th' wee fellow means t' say is this here buyer's a frien' o' ours, 'n we ain't seen 'im in a long time. Dinnae know where he be these days, an' i' be kinda important tha' we talk t' 'im, ye see?" As he was talking, Firebeard pulled a handful of gold from his pouch, and counted out five gold pieces into an outstretched hand.
Otto looks at the group for moment, and nods slowly at Iozif, focusing on the dignified academic.
"Fine, your short friends, that weird bird, and you will have to leave though. The man Vladka impertinently pointed out is a shopkeeper named Radniche. His shop is in Surgeon's Flats and is called - Radniche's. Good luck with him though, he takes great pride in confidentiality."
With that, Otto waves you off.
---
The walk to Radniche's takes around ten minutes as you move thorugh the streets, and the group manages to get to the shop as the door is closing for the evening. Radniche stops the door as you all walk up to him. He is an eccentric-looking man, dressed in green with green spectacles. You can see through the open door a shop piled with skeletons, pickled things in jars, and alchemical components.
"Well hello there," he smiles. "As you can see I am juuust about to close. So if you'd like to come back tomorrow morning that would be spleendid."
"We do not have the time to wait till tomorrow."
Arval says as the shopkeeper stands in the doorway.
"We need some information, which is best discussed in private I think."
He glances at Eldon and Iozif while he says his last sentence.
Kawrock who has stayed silent most of the way suddenly blurts out. "Is green your favorite color?"
Eldon shows the man one of the tools. "Dear man, we should really talk. And I think you know why. Shall we do it inside, or do you want to cause a scene?"
The man glances in bewilderment at Kawrock.
"Did a giant bird just ask me my favorite colour?" He then looks over at Eldon and sighs.
"Fine, but there had better be some profit in this."
He opens the door and lets the party into the shop, extremely annoyed.
Kawrock whispers to Eldon. "Give him something green. I am sure he will like it."
Arval looks confused but follows the group inside.
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"Let me first introduce myself," Eldon says as he follows the man inside the shop. "I'm the famous Eldon Appleton, storyteller of the epic adventures of yours truly."
Eldon produces a green candle from his backpack. "This candle was made by the nephew of a beautiful young lass by the name of little green riding hood. It was she who composed the song Greensleeves when she was around my age. Do you like the candle? I could give it to you. I'm positive it'd make others green with envy if they'd see this pretty candle is yours."
But! he says as he raises his index finger, moving the pretty green candle slowly away from the man with his other hand. "You may only have it if you tell us what we want to know. Do you understand?"
"What kind of information do you want?" he looks at the candle curiously.
Arval looks utterly confused now. He looks at Lena to see if she understands what is going on.
"These tools were purchased by Vladka Kostel," Eldon tells the man. "Is Vladka around? And before you call her to join us, if she's around, do you happen to know why she purchased the tools?"
Eldon again shows the tools to the man. He also makes sure the pretty green candle stays within sight, to ensure the man's reminded of his reward for cooperating.
The man shakes his head at Eldon.
"I know the tools. Vladka Kostel's auction house -sold- me those tools, who were then sold to another buyer. And I do not give out my customer names - people shop here because I keep their information confidential. You'd have to have a very good reason for me to give you the information."
It's pretty clear he's looking for a bribe, and not a small one.
"Let me discuss this with my comrades," Eldon tells Otto, and takes some distance from the man.
He beckons the other party members to approach, and explains in a whisper that Otto's expecting a very big bribe. "I don't think the candle's going to cut it. Arval, why don't you do that dazzling display thing you did once before to intimidate him a bit? I know of a cheaper way to get the information from him."
Hoping that Arval was able to demoralize Otto, Eldon casts suggestion on the shop owner.
"Write down the name of the person you sold the tools to on a piece of paper, and hand the paper over to me," Eldon suggests as a course of activity.
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we could tell him that the person who has brought these tools is wanted for grave robbing, murder, vandalism, interfering with a corpse, molesting wild life (a blood caiman) and swearing in a public place. And that if he can't show who these tools went to, he would be an accomplice after the fact. That should work. lena gives the party a bright smile. if it doesn't, then arval can scare him.
"Perhaps if we paint the gold green he might lower the price." Kawrock adds thinking it might be helpful.
"I will try"
He responds to Eldon.
Arval move from the back of the group to the front. When he is in front of the trader he loosens his sword from its scabbard.
"How about we leave your head on your body you greedy bastard."
He looks him up and down with a hard look.
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Lena's eyes goggle. This could be very bad. Better support the big lunk.
Excuse my friend, but he is over wrought. You see the owner of those tools is responsible for crimes that would make the beast cringe. Murder, grave robbing, unnatural acts with corpses...and you are impeding our pursuit. We tried to do this quietly, but your actions...you are either greedy or an accomplice. My friend here has sworn an oath to the great god bloddy, lord of righting wrongs, to find this, this...fiend.
Lena walks forward and looks at the fat auctioneer. but I sense you want to help. Otherwise...Eldon, what is the penalty for aiding a murderer? And of course everyone would know. I'm certain your fellow townsfolk are a forgiving lot.
Come on Eldon, back us up
"As my companions have pointed out we'd rather not have to harm you, but unless you come clean it's either us or that mob outside. You may think your status here makes you important, but believe me: We have friends in very high places. Few of them look kindly on this sort of thing."
As he says this Iozif will pull his wand out of his sleeve. He'll not point it directly at the man, but will try to make it look as if he's more than ready to use it if needs be.
Now this is how to negotiate!
"Far be i' fer me t' be interruptin' all this nice talk wit' a bi' o' sense, bu' ye see Angradd don' take t' kindly t' those tha' murder people an' such. Tha' be a good way t' end up like this. D' ye know anyone who once looked like this?" Whiskeyjack pulled the skin mask from his pack and waved it at the man.
Radiche steps back, going white in the face as he looks at the now very-menacing group of people. His syrupy, strange voice changes to a high-pitched shriek.
"DON'T HURT ME! PLEASE! I... fine! I sold to tools to a Master Vorkstag of Vorkstag and Grine's Chymic Works! Now please, leave me alone! I just want to go home. Vorkstag is this weird little gnome, respectable merchant who sells alchemical stuff. That's all I know!"
Obviously terrified, the man backs up against once of his shelves, knocking what looks like a pickled fetus to the floor. The room fills with the scent.
Hmm, a rather new tactic of acquiring information. I might have to try this again
Quickly becoming disgusted at both the sight and smell of the man's accident, Iozif speaks quickly before heading out of the door.
"Master Vorkstag you say? That's all we needed thank you. But remember, we've got our eyes on you..."
Iozif will be very glad to get back into the (relatively) fresh air outside.
Iozif recalls that Vorkstag and Grine are well-respected merchants for alchemical goods, having supplied many departments at the University. However, no workers are ever seen going on shift at the chymic works - and the smoke never stops from the chimney. This has spurred more than a few rumours.
Arval slams his sword back into its scabbard and moves out. Once out of the building he grins widely.
"My years of training haven't been for naught it seems"
He glances at Iozif.
"Shall we head there then? Not much choice now I think."
Arval looks confused at Lena.
"Huh...? No? I was trained by a mercenary. One of my first lessons was that looking scary saves you half the work."
He says with a grin.
"Yeah, mercs ain't exactly th' most industrious o' folk. W e ge' paid t' do a job, bu' if'n we ken do i' wi'out actually doin' anything, then we get paid t' do nothin'. It's kind o' ideal, really."
Radiche finally manages to throw all of you out of his shop, where he locks up and bolts down the street away from all of you.
It is now after 6pm and the shops are closing up around town. The first full day of the Trial of the Beast begins at 10am the next morning.
"It's not just mercenaries you know. I get paid to do research, but if I happen to get a student to do it for me as an assignment, I still get paid nonetheless"
"I think you're correct we should head to the... alchemy factory, as you so succinctly put it. The place always seems to have activity going on day or night so I'm sure we'll find someone to talk to. On the other hand, nobody's ever actually seen anyone go in or out of the place. It'd be best to be vigilant, I feel."
The group resolutely decides to head towards Vorkstag & Grime's Chymic Works, which is in the extreme southeast of the city. They make their way over and around a half hour later they find themselves at their destination.
A tall, iron chimney belches yellow clouds into the sky from this small brick factory. Large leaded windows arch in a dozen places on its outer walls, but they are so begrimed as to be opaque. A large gate opens onto an inner courtyard beneath a sign proudly proclaiming “Vorkstag and Grine, Chymic Works.” The building has two floors and a tower, topped by a lightning rod.
Eldon tries to remember anything Iozif didn't tell, but is unable to. He, naturally, decides to keep his mouth shut about his own lack of knowledge on the topic.
He walks up to the gate and into the inner courtyard, where he looks around for anything that's out of the ordinary.
"I don't like the rumors about this place, but I doubt it's any worse than Harrowstone."
"The foul stench alone is foreboding. I do not like this place one bit" Kawrock says before clicking his tongue twice.
