With the help of Doodle and Taerle, Varian is able to track down another source of information.
The most helpful person he finds so far this morning is "Miss Feathers", who, despite the name, is a human male prostitute. Dressed in a glittery silver shirt and a bright pink feather boa, (s)he answers Varian's questions with a deep booming voice that matches his large, well-muscled frame.
"Ha! I remember seeing him the other day, after that new idiot client. The guy asked for something with leathers, and showed up in full studded armor! How gleefully naive. Anyway, you're not here for my client list. Ardoc ... let's see now ... he was walking that-a-way with his golems.
"Those Ardocs aren’t stupid. They run the best golem-making factory since Thassilon, and when you run something like that, you have an obvious source of guards. I ain’t never seen Besel without at least six of those iron things stomping around behind him. If you’re trying to find him and put a hurt on him, you best change your mind, friend.”
After a bit of legwork, Varian is able to find an unexpected source with partial answers.
Varian catches a small human girl human girl trying to reach into his money purse. She's a bit defiant, but volunteers that she'll share some information about Besel Ardoc if you let her go. She then ups the ante and asks for a hot meal too.
“Oh yeah, I seen Besel drinkin’ in Downmarket a bunch. I'm in and out of so many pubs looking for marks that I don' remember which one.”
You've been at this for eight hours so far today, and the day is getting long.
It's late in the evening when you happen across an old friend.
"Oh, hey! Fancy meeting you here. Just passing through visiting a merchant's daughter, if you know what I mean."
The gnome eyes Doodle. "Aren't you a nice fresh slice of pie! I've got a room nearby if you have some time later this evening."
"Anyways, I hear you've been asking about Besel Ardoc. I saw him this morning down by that disgusting troll Augur temple—called Augur’s Entrails, I think. Nothing wrong with trolls, mind, if you can get past the smell. The women have ... well, let's just say that description isn't fit for polite company."
"Finding Augur's Entrails is easy enough. There’s a troll on the sign pullin’ his own damn entrails out on the sign. You won’t catch me drinking there, but I saw Besel and his iron monsters there this morning.”
"Wish I could tell you more, but I have a liaison to get to, if you catch my meaning. And don't forget, dear gnome," (he winks again at Doodle), "I'm just down the street if you're interested."
You find an inn, and rest for the night, figuring your best sources are likely to also be sleeping.
The next morning is clear, and you don't seem to be being hunted for the murder the goons accused you of. Yet, you're only a little bit closer to finding Ardoc.
Your best bet—obviously—is Downmarket, so you head there bright and early. Varian manages to sweet talk a fruit merchant (Jorda) into sharing some more information.
Jorda is tall for a human, and skeletally thin as a result of a wasting disease in his childhood. His face is pockmarked with scars and he speaks stiffly, as though his lips don’t fully work. He’s serious, business-like, and willing to share information, especially once Varian promises to buy some of his "fresh" fruit. “I was in the Augur’s Entrails over in Downmarket this morning and heard Besel say he’d be back there again this afternoon for something. That’s probably your best bet for finding him, friend.”
You find Besel right where you expected: at the Augur's Entrails, surrounded, just as was described, by six large golems. The form protectively around him as the well-armed party approaches.
While you are still a respectable distance away, Besel calls out to you "What is it you want?"
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"Cah we talk to you in private? Your golems can come too. We don't want any trouble. But I'd prefer to talk outside of all these ears.". If he seems open, Doodle tells him everything. She mentions the mission, the mirder they happened upon, and any clues they happened upon along the way. She tries to be honest in the conversation.
Diplomacy
Besel seems surprised to see you, and even more surprised to learn that you're neither the people who killed Collgardie nor a part of the Shadow Lodge. When you express confusion at the mention of the Shadow Lodge, Besel informs you that he thought it was just a code word the Pathfinders were using to set up a lodge in Kaer Maga and that when they started causing trouble, he had Collgardie send a letter to his friend at the Grand Lodge in Absalom before a bunch of Pathfinders in Kaer Maga turned up dead.
Beyond that, Besel says, "I ain't got nothin' more to do with the whole situation. I only hired them goons to kill Collgardie’s assassins because Dakar said he would owe me a favor if I did this. He being the head of the Commerce League, that's a good favor to be owed. Worth all the gold in your vaults in Absalom, that is.”
When you ask about Dakar, Besel laughs uncomfortably, perhaps rudely, for a long time. When he’s done he says, [b]“Dakar is the most secretive man in Kaer Maga, and that’s saying something. If you want to talk to him, you might as well climb to the top of the walls and shout for him all day. You don’t find him, Pathfinders, he finds you.”
It's difficult to get more information out of him.
As you are ready to depart, Besel, leaves you with this warning: “Be careful who you make deals with here, Pathfinders. Kaer Maga is a city brimming with politics—play the wrong kind and you’ll end up dead. Hell, play the right kind and you’ll end up dead. The point is, be careful who you make an enemy of here—or worse, who you end up owing a favor to.”
As you leave the meeting with Besel, you ponder your next move, and decide your best bet is to find Dakar.
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Sense Motive
Diplomacy/Gather Info
Doodle looks closely at the man's face, and thinks he is being trustworthy. Alas, she insulted a Varisian in a bar without realizing it, and got nothing but a cold shoulder in return. "I'm sure your wife is a handsome woman," she yells over her shoulder as she scampers out of the bar.
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Taerel is apparently so socially awkward, he has no clue what is going on.
"Well, I guess this Dakar guy needs to find us. Should we actually shout from rooftops? It seems so... childish. But if we cannot convince the man to share more, I fear we are out of luck. Still, those golems were impressive."
You've been searching in vain for several hours for any scrap of information. You've had people turn and run at your questions. Doodle almost started a bar fight. It's hopeless work, but you persist in your investigations.
Still, no one talks with you. At best they shrug and turn away. A few back up a few steps, as if you just showed them a virulent disease.
You work your way through the market and the press of people, hoping to find a merchant, a bard, or a beggar to talk to. (Maybe all three at once!)
Suddenly, where a thick crowd of people once stood are now only six burly men carrying cudgels and a seventh with his hand in a pouch at his belt. All seven sets of eyes are on you, while in the distance, the crowds suddenly turn and find another way past this street. “You’ve been asking about Dakar,” says the man with his hand in a pouch. “He wants a word with you.”
"If you want to meet him, you'll follow my instructions to the letter."
If pressed, the man refuses to answer further questions, and only repeats his terms.
The man explains you must agree to having black bags placed over their heads, being put in a wagon, and then being driven around the city in circles for a while. Eventually you’ll meet Dakar, but you cannot know where he is.
You agree, albeit reluctantly.
As promised, a black bag is placed over each of your heads. Once the bag is in place, you can hear no sound at all.
You are stuffed inside a small, dusty wagon, and driven in bumpy, painful circles around the city for at least an hour before being dragged from the wagon, marched through streets or large hallways, and then stopped.
The bags are removed and some silent, nondescript figures take the bags and leave the room. As you look around, and readjust to the light, you find yourself in a nicely furnished room—perhaps a nice club or private residence—with carpeted floors, potted plants, slaves waving fans, and a giant, backlit screen along one wall. A shape, decidedly vague in outline, can be seen behind the screen, and a voice speaks.
“You’ve asked for me and now you have me. What do you wish to know?”
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"We were sent here to find Collingarde. There were rumors someone was building a false Pathfjnder Lodge here. Obviously, we are real Pathfinders and we were sent to get to the bottom of whatever is happening in this city. Then we show up and Collingarde is already been murdered. Don't suppose you have any knowledge about any of these topics do you? We're a bit spun around right now."
Dakar chuckles from behind the screen—a dry, raspy sound. “I don’t give anything away for free, Pathfinders, but I will give you the information you want in exchange for a future favor.”
Dakar tells you that the Shadow Lodge, something the Society hasn’t thought real for a long time, is indeed very real and that they’re using Kaer Maga to start their little war against the Pathfinders. "Normally, I wouldn't involve myself in such things, but let's just say that for now our interests are aligned."
"One of the Shadow Lodge's leaders is, at this very moment, in the Naderi Theater in Bis, where he’s been training and collecting his goblin minions. You may recall being attacked by goblins on your way here? Surely even you are smart enough to make the connection."
“Yes, they were sent by the man in the Naderi Theater. I first began to suspect he wasn’t a Pathfinder when he ordered those goblins to murder you. It has become more clear since.”
... as Dakar is distracted with his exposition, Taerel moves forward and knocks over the screen.
You are surprised to see a dark naga—and he is just as surprised to see you. Drakar's men quickly enter and pull Taerel away. They reset the screen as if nothing happened, then step back into the shadows.
As his men put the screen back up, Dakar laughs. “Tell anyone what you saw,” he says, “And you’ll owe me more than a favor, little Pathfinders.”
"Now for that little stunt, you can be excused without hearing anything else. But do try not to die, Pathfinders. I like cashing in favors that are owed to me.”
The light goes out behind the screen, and the men re-emerge with bags, which are again put over your heads. The travel ritual is performed in reverse, and you are driven around bumpy city streets for a bit more than an hour before being deposited, safely but quite unceremoniously, in the very alley you left earlier that afternoon.
The sun has not yet set, but you can tell from the sun and the traffic on the street that it's around dinner time.
You manage not to break a leg on your way to the theatre ...
Before you stands a run-down, wooden facade with the words “Naderi Theater” painted across the top in faded letters. The painting of a young, pretty woman soaked to the bone with water and carrying a tiny dagger in one fist splashes across the front of the theater beneath the sign, though this mural is as faded as the lettering above. The ticket window is boarded up, the walls are covered in graffiti, and the doors are chained shut and have a sign that reads “Closed for renovation” nailed across them.
As Varian examines the door, he discovers that through a simple, mundane optical illusion the door only appears to be chained and locked. In fact, it can be opened easily.
Varian sees no traps from this side of the door, and hears nothing from inside.
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"Sorry. I just like to know who I am making promises to. Does no one want to even discuss the fact that we are now indebted to a dark naga? Oh, very well then - to the theatre. Perhaps if we succeed here, another audience will be granted and you can ask more questions then."
Even though he doesn't admit it, Taerel does seem embarrassed by his actions.
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"As with this door, perhaps the 'Naga' is not what he seems. Curtains, mistaken identities during our surprise attack, doors with illusions, something is going on. But it might all be above my pay grade.
"Right now I'm interested in this theatre. I'll scout ahead all sneaky like and see what's in store for us, if no one minds."
Mercutio goes through the theatre door with the quietest stealthiness in the land. Sneaky sneaky.
You enter.
A man you assume to be Shadow leader stands near the edge of the stage, looking expectantly toward the front doors, clearly unsurprised by your entrance. Next to him are a pair of fiendish looking wolves. When he sees you, he applauds your entrance theatrically and says, “Vadoma failed to killed you, I see. I’ll have to take over.”
The man gestures the wolves to hold next to him. They tense and get ready to spring. Then the man begins to cast a spell in a sing-song style.