The party is seen to a small and private room where Panrick has some food and drink brought so the party may refresh themselves. While here Rilka is contacted by Drosil who says he received her message loud and clear and is already working on getting the "references" setup.
Several hours later, Panrick returns with a complete information dump, mostly in written form.
A map of the city is first. While incredibly large, the map is surprisingly simple. The entire west side of the city is open to a massive waterfall and lake where the airships come in and go out from. The rest of the city is surrounded by steep mountains. The northwestern portion (where the party is currently) houses government buildings and other official buildings, as well as the docks for the airships. The north-central and northeastern portions are primarily industry, the largest buildings in the city save for the current one. The central-western, central, and south-central portions of the city are all a mix of smaller businesses and merchants and shops and entertainment; all the purchasable goods of the city and a huge portion of the culture is found here. There are also a fair number of residences. The central-eastern and south-eastern portions are primarily residences, as well as housing for workers in the mountains. The southwestern portion houses visitors (full of inns) and is also where docks are for non-flying ships.
The crime is primarily located in the more business centered areas. They don't touch upon the big industries much, although they do drift into government and residences when the occasion calls for it. As for an actual location or base of operations, that is unknown. Panrick has also taken the liberty of marking out particular assets and businesses and people that the government would prefer they avoided pissing off.
The party is also given the complete crime record for the city. Everything from Villichi (disappointingly useless information) to pickpockets is in here. If the party gets a name and consults the list, they know what the person has done.
They are also given information on all of the guards. Name, rank, history, and where they are on a day-to-day basis. Evading them should be easy, as should be using them for other purposes.
The party is also provided their war chest of 3000 gold, a literal chest filled with gold that is hefted by four burly-looking gnomes.
Finally Panrick leaves the room momentarily and comes back with another gnome. He walks with a careful sort of confidence, eyes flicking about the room sharply. He has high cheekbones and a cleanly shaven face, and his green eyes rest above a somewhat crooked nose. He is wearing an impressive-looking set of full plate adorned with blue and white colors with gold trimmings, and on his back is a small wooden shield and a masterfully crafted lance. He strides up to the party and offers a hand. "Fosco Tosscobble. Guard captain and paladin of Iomadae. I was told I needed to meet with you on a matter of security." He doesn't appear to know much about the situation and is being very up front about it.
Dalton scours the maps, referencing them with the crime information to determine an underlying pattern.
Oh, dear. So much to consider...
Toramin pulls out a blank sheet of paper and starts doing some complex figures as he studies the map.
Ianna smiles winningly at Fosco. He is quite handsome and a good size.
"Hello, my name is Ziza Dibh Muileta. The fine and upstanding councilman, Panrick, has hired us to infiltrate and eliminate the elements of organized crime that has recently plagued your fair city. We asked to have a trustworthy and high ranking member of the watch be informed of our goals and help us secretly coordinate with the constables. We have reason to believe that members of the government and the watch have been compromised by these criminals. It is essential to our survival that our connection to the government never make itself known. Our current plan is to find some of this criminal element and defeat and replace them. From there we will try to take over the rest of the organized criminal element until we have achieved market dominance and then flip those elements to the watch and return all stolen government property."
Fosco silently listens to Ianna, his brows rising in surprise at what he is told. At the end he blinks and shakes his head, then turns to councilman Panrick. "I am honored you would entrust me with this." he looks back at Ianna. "Ziza Dibh Muileta. I am very glad to have some more help in controlling the sudden crime spree going on, but I must admit I'm not very enthusiastic about the idea of fighting fire with fire. It seems wrong to stoop to their level."
"Paladin Tosscobble, I empathize with your distress. But, may I suggest an alternative interpretation? 'Fighting fire with fire' suggests that we would be doing the same thing they are doing: victimizing the population of this wondrous city. You have sworn to uphold this city and provide succor for its citizens. 'Fighting fire with fire' should distress you.
That my good sir is not what we will be doing. All targets of our 'criminal' activities will either be the criminal element itself or the government. In the latter case, we will work together to prevent any injure and loss of life, and anything stolen would be returned once we succeed.
Rather than that upsetting metaphor, think of us as surgeons who are doing a diagnostic to determine the spread of a cancer before we excise it."
None of Ianna's words or body language is overtly sexual, but her tone, her body language, even her word choice is intended to put Fosco at his ease and make him more sympathetic to her. She was not trained as the priestess of a goddess of love, lust, and beauty for nothing.
Fosco frowns. "Trying to justify something by changing how it's worded means nothing for the actual action." He looks down and folds his arms. "You do have a point with the comparison though. While it may be...less than legal, it doesn't sound like it's going to be anything nearly as horrendous as what's going on now." He grimaces. "It just feels slimy to me." He works his jaw back and forth, thinking it over. Panrick stands in expectant silence.
"Bah, to the winds with it! The fact that I was approached before anything was put into motion shows a great deal to me. Anybody intending real harm would not be so foolish as to let a paladin know of their actions; at least not without an incredibly complicated plan. Let us...uh..." He pauses and looks around at the party. "Let us fight this evil together. Tell me what you need of me."
"Though it pains me to disagree with you, paladin Tosscoble; I think it is important that you know exactly from where I come. Intent matters. How we understand ourselves and the world around us matters. A priest of Asmodeus and a noble paladin Iomadae both support the law. In fact, they might both dispense justice to a city. However, I assert the differing whys of their support for the law matters. The actions may be the same, but there is a vast chasm between their intent. With so ephemeral of changes, souls are saved or lost.
That seems like a great matter to me."
Ianna speaks sincerely with quiet dignity. Her defense is not strident; rather, it comes across as extremely earnest. The ring may shield her thoughts, but her gentle soul is apparent in other ways.
She then gives a self-deprecating chuckle. "Indeed our actions will also be different. First, in so far as we will not target civilians. Second, that by signing the contract with the city our actions become legal for the purposes of this mission."
Ianna's gentle smile flits across her face again. "I would not want to trouble so noble a heart, and you are wise to listen to its council. But the wisdom of the heart flowers not in solitude."
Her limpid eyes meet his. "Of course, let me show you what my brother is doing. Perhaps you have advice on where and with whom we should start . . ."
She then explain the math her brother is doing and what their theories and assumptions are.
Fosco crosses his arms. "We're not here to discuss philosophies, we're here to get Villichi and his band of murdering thugs brought to justice. As long as that's your goal, you have my support." He walks over and takes a look at the map. "I would definitely look in the market districts first, if I had to guess. Beyond that I'm afraid I won't be much help."
Ianna keeps a pleasant face, but she is surprised to find a paladin who would rather not think, but she is less surprised that he doesn't know anything useful that could help their mission. It seemed to be a recurring theme.
Perhaps he is flustered.
While the semi-useless information from Fosco is not a surprise, Ianna gets the feeling that he is a very straitforward gnome who doesn't like to banter words or play games. He's not stupid by any means, but he likes to keep things simple where he can. Definitely the kind of person who would absolutely hate politics.
Of course, being flustered is certainly not helping.
The map and detailed reports bring a smile to Chibi’s face. He notices Dalton and Toramin begin to look for patterns. Chibi drags a finger across the map, trying to get a feel for the city. Most crime is opportunistic, so we’ll have to behave similarly, at least in the beginning. We’ll also need to do our own digging to see how accurate this information is. He spares a glance to the gnome paladin as Ziza introduces herself then continues studying the map.
Rilka follows the conversation between Ziza and Fosco Tosscobble closely.
”Not much help?” Chibi says. He chuckles. ”I doubt you’d be standing here if you weren’t very capable.” Sticking out his right hand, he points with his left to his companions, ”The half-elf is Lopa. That’s Ragnar. Azan Dibh Muileta. You had an interesting discussion with Ziza. And I’m Chibi Kerchiechoo. I come from a long line of sneezers.” He laughs at his joke.
”The market district...” he looks down at the map. ”What was the criminal situation here before Villichi rose to power?“
Fosco greets each person in turn, then looks at the map. "When Alziver was in charge, crime was a misnomer for what they did. When a murder or robbery or something else happened and the guard was unable to solve it, they did their own investigation and within a few weeks had the culprit dropped at our feet with a mountain of evidence. Imagine how certain underground crime enterprises scare local businesses into paying "protection money". Now imagine that it's totally optional, half the price, and is actually effective. Practically legit insurance. Plus they were vigilantes in their own right, but at the end always turned over power to the guard."
"Whatever the motives, if the Market District is the center of the apparent crimes, it would be prudent to pay it a visit. Captain Tossocobble, though I am here for this mission, I am a merchant by the moonlight. Knowing which goods may draw the criminals into the light would be a beneficial bit of information to have on our side." The disguised man thumbed his bulbous nose to scratch an itch. "Are there any specialized wares of particular rarity in this city, and is there a shortage of any good at this time?"
Toramin gives a dubious ear to the other paladin. Sounds like he is kept in the dark and fed b+$@*~&&; just like a mushroom.
He did not notice Ianna's aborted flirtation with Fosco. He rarely recognized such things, but Fosco's poor defense of his beliefs grated on Toramin. Ours is a sacred vocation: all who serve the gods in this way are called to be thoughtful. Ianna maybe wrong, but his response is an embarrassment to his order. Perhaps the Inheritor expects different things from her followers . . .
Silently he continues his figures.
Ragnar watches in dutiful silence as the coin arrives along with the city's intelligence. Looking at the contents of the cache he's not sure if they'd been cheated or not.
He greets the bovine grunt and a nod and then watches as Ianna makes introductions. Being well-versed in the sometimes subtle art of getting others to invite him to their bed, he catches wind of the priestess's flirtations. Ultimately he doesn't know what's more surprising, how casually Ianna brings the power of her sex to bear or the fact that the halfling doesn't reciprocate.
"What about contraband, drugs and the like? What's big here in the Hollow?"
Panrick chimes in at Dalton's question. "Yes, as a matter of fact. We create a lot of technical goods that nobody else does. However there has been a significant dip in adamantium trading. It's been very painful to our trade income, as we're one of the major suppliers. "
The paladin frowns at Bjorkus's question. "One thing I've never liked about them is the drug trade. Flayleaf, opium, pesh, and zerk are the big ones."
"Lopa" turns his gaze towards Panrick. "A lack of adamantium, eh? That must be a tough shortage to overcome!"
The large man had a chuckle at his shallow jest as he slapped his eyes, brought back around by Fosco's mention of drugs. "Flayleaf? Zerk? I've never heard of them before."
Under the conversation though, he was innately curious; what are these technical goods? Are these the guns we saw with the specter before? He made a note to speak with Rilka later.
Chibi asks, ”Do you think the adamantium situation is related to the underworld’s activities? Are your trading partners no longer interested in what you’re offering? As for the narcotics, is there a district where most of the distribution occurs?” He looks at the map, eyes lingering over the manufacturing area.
For a full week, the party is squirreled away inside a large tavern room, piling up dishes and papers as they tear through all the information. It's a huge montage of plotting and estimating and the like, eventually coating every surface of the room except the ceiling and half the floor in papers and maps and numbers and statistics and names. While the party gets a much greater insight of how crime in the city works, they narrow down on three distinct leads.
Rilka found a missing link in the drug trail through a combination of several supposedly unaffiliated crimes that actually end up all to be linked. Judging by the reaction time of the guard and how long it took for the smugglers to hide away, she's almost entirely certain whoever runs the drugs in Grastle Hollow runs their business out of a restaurant called Mama Getrude's House of Pasta. She's also sure they import by hiding the drugs inside massive crates of food where the spices overwhelm the smell of the drugs.
Toramin's research goes just as well as he tracks the trade of adamantium, finding that Tosscobble was indeed right that massive amounts of it have been disappearing. In fact, 70-80% of it. There has only been enough coming in to keep the major industries from suffering, but every single small-time trader (which makes up over 90% of the market) is practically running out. Toramin finds these resources are disappearing long before they come to town, so whatever is happening must be in the mines outside of the city.
Dalton finds out the small reclusive home of the former guard captain who he learns had a secret relationship with the criminal underground. If there's anybody who actually knows anything about the crime scene here without actually being a part of it, it must be him. However he's a grumpy old gnome and it's going to be quite a pain to get him to help.
"I could try to speak to the ex-guard captain?"
Toramin knows that the mines are far from a monopoly. There have to be at least a dozen big names out there as well as quite a few more smaller ones. They form their own security, mostly through private contracts and mercenaries (no official or government guards). The distance from the city would be quite a while on foot (especially through the harsh terrain), but since the gnomes quickly mined out the adamantium around Grastle Hollow and kept expanding, there are mining shafts with carts that branch out far through the mountains. By these carts (open to the public with a purchasable ticket) the various mines are anywhere from an hour to a few days away.
"Rilka, I think you should explore the northern station. That seems like a good place to divert the shipments."
"Bah! It would have to be the pasta house." Dalton's tummy grumbled as he was put to cross purposes. If their front is well-disguised, they must make a decent dish...
"Certainly, Ianna. You are a better reader of people than I. However, I must say I am intrigued by this adamantium shortage. Either the major recipients are in on shorting-out the rest of their competition, or the force at hand causing the scarcity must have deep pockets and powers indeed." Dalton thought a moment.
"Speaking of deep pockets, I'm sure those for whom the resources are drying-up would be ... very indebted to those restoring means of production again. It could shore-up that settlement that was a bit light on gold to some of us." He cast a look to Bjorkus and Toramin. "Care for a run at banding the small metallurgists together for a recompense pact before we dispel these criminals?"
”I’d be happy too,” Rilka says. While in their hotel rooms, she’s back to her normal appearance. ”Do you think the metal is being taken to other manufacturers outside the city? Ahhh, best for me to keep an open mind and not bias myself with speculation. It’s hard not to speculate sometimes though.”
She laces her fingers behind her head, as she paces along one wall, thinking of a plan.
"Is there anything in our contracts that forbids side agreements? It could be argued that we cannot be rewarded twice for doing our job. However, if we found where the thieves were taking the adamantium, then we could let them steal it and claim it for ourselves once we defeated them. The metal is not a government possession and once it has be stolen, we can claim it as part of our reward.
Dalton, I suspect collusion between the major interests and whomever is doing the stealing, since the independent sellers are being targetted. There are a couple scenarios to consider:
1. The major interests are colluding with the thieves to drive the smaller interests out of the market.
2. The thieves are not yet powerful enough to take on major interests. Someone in power in the main station is helping target which shipments to hit.
I think Rilka should appear to be a gnome and scout out what is happening in that station without drawing attention to herself."
Rilka nods, ”I was thinking a gnome would be appropriate too.” She pauses and changes into a female gnome. She inspects her hands and then changes back to her normal self. ”It is perplexing, whether it’s the major companies or thieves not powerful enough to steal from the major companies. Did you learn if the ore is smelted before transport to Grastle Hollow? Are the miners independent or are there mining companies? Hmmm. I wonder if the metal is being hoarded to raise the price.”
"I believe it is smelted here."
Oh sorry for any confusion. I wasn’t planning on having Rilka impersonate a Bleaching gnome. As you say, it would draw unwanted attention. I simply used Bleaching as a point of reference.
Rilka changes into a female gnome again. ”Gnomes are known for being obsessed with all manner of things. I thought that could be used in this endeavor. My name is Majet...Majet Tarcobble.” Rilka’s voice becomes a bit more frenetic. ”I am compelled to write poetry about the wonder of tunnel echoes...write that poetry in tunnels, on the tunnel walls. Or maybe I’m taking a census. My own census, complete with seventeen questions, for the inhabitants of Grastle Hollow and environs.” She shrugs and chuckles.
Toramin laughs.
"I was going to suggest that you get hired on as a janitor. Few people in power actually pay attention to service workers. But you are the person who knows about sneaking. It's important that you only gather facts. Don't draw attention to yourself. If you find out where it is being diverted and where it goes we can disrupt them."
"The first scenario you suggest, Toramin, would make this a rather straightforward operation; we strike the power feeding the crimes, and the brigands with no backing disperse. However, I suspect it's a bit beyond that. Rilka is correct Gnomes are known for their obsessions, but I am sure they have detectives obsessed with finding answers. The fact they're coming-up emptyhanded means a subplot is afoot to me."
As motives and disguises were discussed, an idea came to Dalton.
"It is also possible we could bait-out the criminals ourselves without too much effort. Posing as adamantium suppliers would be a surefire way to go about it to prove your first premise."
”I’d be a janitor if the position is open. My first thought was to be a miner,” Rilka says, nodding. She takes a sip of ale as Dalton speaks.
”That’s an interesting idea, Dalton. Does anyone know the nearest adamantine mine? Though I guess it doesn’t have to be the nearest…of course wouldn’t the people we approach want to test our samples? We’d need adamantine for that.”
"For greater legitimacy, yes. However, if the shortage is truly pronounced, it makes sense to be wary of robbers and the like, letting words speak to truth when none other voice them. Absconding with a few pieces from a mine during our investigation could prove useful in supporting our disguise."
The not-quite-as-old-looking man coughed. "Given the opportunity, Tormain, this could be a profitable long-term endeavor for your family. I'm sure they could pull a lever or three to resupply production and trade once things are taken care of here."
”I don’t know if using the Trealamhgabha clan — well it could be done, if you wanted,” Rilka looks at the Trealamhgabba siblings. ”I’m sure they’ve had trusted agents, not family, negotiate contracts in their name. It’s skirting the boundary of anonymity we want to maintain. That’s my main concern.
“We can pretend to represent a mine as well; say a new lode discovered recently. Fenrick can help create references that establish we are looking to sell adamantine.
“Putting both plans into action, me as a janitor, you as ore dealers will approach the situation from two different paths.”
"The Airgidcasúr have a monopoly on mining. The Trealamhgabha are one of their main customers. I believe it is one of my grandmother's hopes to secure some of the mining rights in Akropash in repayment for her investment in building infrastructure and financial services to lessen our resource dependence on the Airgidcasúr. However, given the demand for ore here, there might be a profit in buying wholesale from the Airgidcasúr and selling it at a mark up here. Since the Airgidcasúr are loathe to sell directly to outsiders."
"Rilka is right. We need would need to maintain our cover. However, it would not be odd for the Trealamhgabha to set up a small banking concern here. The technology here is the only competitor we have to our magi-tech. It would make sense for our clan to get a foothold by providing our other services. The Dibh Muileta, who we are pretending to be, are the trading concern. I could use my current alias."
I could use my current alias."
"Perfect! It seems Desna has not forsaken us just yet."
Rilka has no trouble finding and getting to the station. It's underground but well lit by various light sources of different colors. The station is very loud and busy, full of moving bodies and yelling people and screeching trains and the smells of food. It's also interesting to be amongst a crowd mostly her size.
Lacking any sort of direction, Rilka goes to one of the booths and waits a solid hour before reaching the front of the line. Once there a chunky gnome with balding hair and a colorful outfit greets her with a smile and twitch of his nose. "Aherm, yes, welcome. What is it you need today?"
Toramin contacts his grandmother with no problem. She is drinking a mug of thin ale and looking over a spread of scrolls in front of her. With a smile she looks up. "Hello grandson. I'm happy to hear from you. How are things going?"
Ianna sets out to find the old gnome, but after asking for directions she quickly finds that nobody is of any help. Clearly the man valued his privacy. Some creative alternate route will have to be thought of to find the willy old gnome...
~~~
Lopa saunters about the city, dipping into the delves of various vendors.
"What could I give you to part with this fine vintage?"
"Might I interest you in a scroll or three?"
"Have you any stabler silks for sale? They do always seem to tear."
"Have you any adamantium? I need a few bits to round off a guilding on a book"
In each of the instances, he buried his true interest in other questions. Some shops he visited wouldn't even have the substance, and there he didn't ask. To all, he looked as a general buyer and seller of goods.
Though he might have done a good job hiding his true intentions, he did walk away with more cheese and bread than he should have, indicating his truer vices. But the cheddar is so sharp!
Dalton takes his time to both enjoy the wares of the city as well as subtly ask about adamantium.
Dalton spends 15 gold during his adventure, partly to keep his cover by actually purchasing goods, but mostly to sample the foods of the city.
However, the time and money were both well spent. The only adamantium he does find is marked up at a ridiculous rate, and the rest of the stores simply don't have it. With some subtle prying, Dalton learns that the shopkeepers all are getting the same answer from their suppliers.
"Our current adamantium mines have run dry. We're trying to find new ones, we don't know how long it will take. Be patient."
However, a shortage such as this is unprecedented, and the shop keepers are getting agitated and fearful that the entire market for the rare sky metal may dry up soon.
Rilka, disguised as a female gnome, gives the clerk a smile. ”What can you do for me? It’s more like what I can do for you! I’m Majet Tarcobble. Master janitor! I can start today.”
The fluffy gnome laughs loudly, slapping his knee and jiggling with a dangerous groaning of his chair. "Master janitor, ha! Well take this and go over to that big door over there, ask for Lusheo and tell him what you told me." Rilka acquires a visitors badge and walks off as the gnome continues chuckling. "Master janitor, oh by my life..."
Rilka follow the instructions and within ten minutes a tall female gnome with short, spiky green and purple hair walks up to Rilka. She is dressed in a very sharp looking business suit that matches her hair, somehow making the bright and flamboyant colors look very professional. She greets Rilka calmly and listens to her pitch, nodding with a very slight grin. "I see. Well our operation is massive and there is always a need for manual labor. We will be happy to have you aboard. The secretary will get you some paperwork, you can start tomorrow. Do you have any questions?"
Like Lopa, Ragnar walks Grastle Hollow's streets in search of information but search takes him through decidedly darker alleys. He plies the surface of the seedier parts of town, from it's dive bars to its brothels, looking for word on the city's drug trade, what's popular, what's not, and who's supplying it all. Along the way the ogreish brute doesn't make a huge effort to mask his allegiance with the other members of the party.