Nope.
Talwyn's good.
Aethon is good as well.
Aethon and Talwyn tend to their affairs and then set out for the City of Thieves.
After a brief, uneventful journey, the two arrive at the gates to the city, and are stopped by a slovenly-looking guard carrying a pack.
"It'll be five coppers to enter the city, good sir," he slurs, as if half-drunk. His breath stinks of alcohol and failure.
Talwyn whispers aside to Aethon, his nose wrinkling slightly, "We'd best not do anything to draw attention to ourselves. He's likely lying to us, but it's a small price to pay."
Talwyn will nod expectantly to Aethon and produce 5 copper, as the guard requested.
Aethon also produces 5 copper and hands it over, smiling brightly.
"And I hate to bother you, sir, but do you know a nice, safe place to spend the night?"
"Anywhere off the streets is better than anywhere on the street. A temple might cut it, in a pinch. Now get moving!"
We get moving. Talwyn mutters aside, "Aethon, I think it would be best if we search for a reputable inn as quickly as possible. If we wait too long, such a place might fill up without us. We should ask around, but I'll let you handle the talking."
Aethon, at some point, someone lifted eight gold from you.
As the sun sinks from the sky, Talwyn and Aethon arrive at an inn that is supposed to be actually rather safe - the Mithril Gauntlet. You have heard that it is pricey, but that the owner - a duergar - takes pride in running one of the safest public inns in town.
The establishment is made of heavy stone, disconnected from the surrounding buildings and with heavy iron bars over the windows. The door opens with a loud ding, alerting the brutish duergar behind the bar.
"Welcome ta the Mithril Gauntlet, safes' place in town if ya're lookin' for a place ta stay. How can I assis' ya?" The musclebound duergar wears padded clothes over heavy leather armor, and has a cudgel at his side - as well as a knife or two. He bears the calloused hands and broken nose of a long-time brawler, yet the age of his scars indicates that it has been a long while since he has lost a fight.
The other patrons are quiet, and mostly focused on their food or drink. The inn itself is clean, and well-maintained, if rather sparsely and plainly furnished.
Talwyn smiles pleasantly, "We would like a room for the night, and food."
He turns aside to Aethon.
"Be sure to ask around - cautiously - as to the whereabouts of our client's friend. Also, dismiss your friend - he draws unwanted attention."
"Agreed, Talwyn, if not said with the vigor I feel for a good meal right now!"
Aethon will smile widely and rub his hands together hungrily. He looks at the Duergar.
"And as we eat, I may have some questions to ask; if you can be discreet, as some may not take kindly to our poking around. If you would be willing to help, I'll discuss the details later, over our meal."
Aethon eyes the Duergar questioningly.
Goods and services. Give this a read.
"I'm alway' glad to help a payin' customer, though some things are jest not talked about, if ye catch my drift."
"Speaking of payin' customers, a room is 3 scepters per night, plus 1 scepter per person beyon' the firs' un. Assumin' ya gents are fine with lodgin' in the same room. Meals are three silver pieces each, breakfast is free if ya stayed the night."
"But where are my manners? Name's Jurgen Dunkholf, and you would be... ?"
"My name is Talwyn, and this is my associate, whom I will let introduce himself. This is our money - bed for the night and dinner as well."
He places both his and Aethon's fares into innkeep's hands. (4 scepters and 6 silver? Scepters are silver or gold?)
Aethon extends a friendly hand.
"Aethon Thekitos. A mouthful I know, but just call me whatever suits your fancy- it's no skin off my back. Nice to meet you, Jurgen."
Grinning as he pockets your payment, Jurgen guides you to your seats - a relatively isolated table away from the door, but close to the bar. "Glad ta meet ya and glad to help. I'll see to me other customers and return wit' ya food in a moment."
A few minutes later - after refilling the drinks of a few customers, giving another a second bowl of stew, and so on - he sits down. An elderly hobbit woman comes bustling out of the kitchen to drop off your stew.
"Thank ye, Marge. That'll be all for these two - assumin' they not be needin' some ale. Keep tabs on the other customers."
"Now," Jurgen says, turning to you, "It's a slow night and things are windin' down, so I can direc' my full attention ta ya'll. What can I help ya with?"
"A simple matter, I hope. Our client needs the assistance of a cruormancer in discovering the culprit in a recent magical riot. His name is Silas Cross. If you know where we might find him, we'd be quite grateful if you'd tell us."
At the word 'cruormancer', the smile leaves his eyes - and when you say the name, his incessant grin vanishes.
"Ah. I see."
Jurgen hesitates, and scratches his scraggly black beard. "Now that's a bad crowd if I've ever heard of one. After he was basically banish'd, he stayed here for the three days it took for him to establis' that he was not one to anger."
A look almost like fear enters his eyes. "I've seen some brutality. I've had ta hurt some people pretty bad. Never seen anythin' like the way he kill'd the one guy who tried to come for him here, and never want to agin."
The duergar shakes himself from his reverie, and some of his former cheer returns. "Not summat a man is exactly burstin' to talk about, if ye catch my drift."
He wants a bribe. One to five scepters would be standard practice (if giving on the low end, have Aethon do it). Just slide it across the table is the typical way of giving one.
Talwyn merely glances to Aethon.
Aethon slides a full 5 scepters across the table.
"Of course. I wouldn't want to force you to do anything. But we'd be grateful to know what you know."
"We Duergar are a stubborn people. Can't force us to do anything. But I'm always glad to help a customer."
"When Silas arrived, he seemed... weakened. Broken. I've heard from other folks who came looking for him that he tried to replace the Undermage, the lich fellow. He came along geared up ta kill undead, so the Undermage dropped summat powerful magic to prevent all otha magic from workin', before beatin' Silas to a bloody pulp wit' his bare hands."
He hesitates, and then continues - "Heard from some scholarly fellow that he took somethin' called the Greyheart from Silas, made him weakened, forced him to flee. Still seemed bloody strong when he kill'd the guy that game here - whipped out a wand of some sort, flayed the skin clean of his body."
"And?"
Aethon perks up.
"Guy that came here? Care to elaborate?"
"Some guy with a beard. Typical wizard looking gnome, named Bulbo Jobblerodders." He thinks for a moment, and says, "He decided to stay somewhere else, got himself killed."
"Do you know anything about the whereabouts of Silas himself?"
"Well, I don't know off-hand, but I could do some digging, ask my cousins if they know anything. I'll have to see when I can make some time - time is money, after all."
Aethon will slide another two scepters across the table.
"Come on now, Jurgen. Surely you can think of something you haven't mentioned. You seem like an informed man."
Sliding the money into his jacket, he says, "Well, I'll see what I can do for ya. I'm sure one o' my cous'ns will remember where he stays now."
His tone suddenly becomes serious and cautionary. "Fair warning. He's one of the folks I canna guarantee protection from. Not sure what exactly cruormancers are capable of, but if'n you anger him, he might be able to kill ya without even enterin' my inn."
"Anythin' else I can do for ya?"
"Not at the moment. We are most grateful for your hospitality and assistance. Perhaps there is some magical service we could provide to demonstrate our gratitude? You never know when a neighbor may have a need."
Talwyn will lapse into silence, expecting a follow-up from his companion.
Aethon nods in agreement.
"As always, I must agree with Talwyn. We are very grateful for your help with this matter, and will take your warning to heart. I would be very dismayed were I killed."
"And I'd be dismayed to lose such a well-payin' customer. Is there summat else I can do for ya?"
"Nothing else for me, I think. Talwyn?"
Aethon looks at Talwyn.
"Nothing comes to mind."
Talwyn will nod to the others, rising.
As he does so, he looks to the duergar.
"I must confess some curiousity, good sir. How does an honest man - by which I mean one who is not a thief - exist in this town?"
"By passing through, briefly, or getting the protection of someone who is... not an honest man."
Aethon chuckles at Jurgen's answer.
"And would you suggest that two honest men, such as ourselves, passing through, get the aid of such a....dishonest man?"
He gives Jurgen an inquisitive look.
"Well, my cousins are upstandin', loyal to a fault, but ah... involved in the shadier side o' the city. I jus' run this inn. So ya can stay here, for what safety I and my cousins can offer, or ye can go talk wit' someone more dangerous, more dishones'.."
Aethon smiles brightly and puts his hands together happily.
"Just the answer I was hoping to hear, my friend. Now, I suppose I should stop bothering you and let you do your job in peace."
After a relatively uneventful night, Talwyn and Aethon wake to the new dawn.
You go down into the main room of the inn about half an hour after the crack of dawn, which, though not exactly bustling, is lively - several duergar appear to have gathered for a morning drink, and a relatively non-surly one hails Talwyn and Aethon.
"Sit by me, friend of my cousin. I have things to say."
As he gestures to the two empty seats at his table, Marge delivers two plates of eggs on toast to the table before returning to the kitchen.
Talwyn will be seated, and make little fuss about it.
This Duergar, though of the same surface-dwelling breed as Jurgen, speaks immaculate Common. "My name is Lucos. I hear you are looking for Silas Cross, the Bloody. I am also told you are willing to pay for information on him."
Pulling out a pocket-sized black book, he opens to a fresh lined page demarcated by a small cloth bookmark. "For his location, there will be a fee of ten gold pieces. For an additional fifteen, I can arrange a meeting between you and Silas, which will be refunded, less four gold pieces, in the event that he refuses to meet."
As he speaks, he rapidly prints out the details of his offer on the page in his book, leaving a space for his name and two spaces for your names. "These prices are non-negotiable. Should you have any additional requests, they may require additional fees, which must be established now."
Aethon nods, impressed by the Duergar's efficiency. He leans over to Talwyn and speaks.
"I see no problems with this offer. I say we pay the full 25 scepters and not mess about with arranging a meeting ourselves. I say we split the cost, as well. What do you say?"