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"Ah. I see," Salbus says, his lips twitching downward into a slight grimace. He spreads his hands to admit defeat. “Ordinarily I would not speak of privately executed contracts with an unaffiliated third party,” he says, patting a folded paper on his desk. “However, Lady Silviana had a letter delivered to me prior to her departure for Taldor, authorizing me to disclose to the deputized agents of Lady Darchana--that'd be you?--the identity of the chattel merchant. Mahjub Mahdi is the purveyor in question and can be found at the northern end of Misery Row. His private shop is called Mahdi’s Chattel. It’s a step up from the Slave Pits to be sure—a much more orderly experience, a very fine display parlor with excellent lighting, and he always keeps excellent wines on hand. I trust you will treat him with the respect that he deserves.”
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"Thank you for the information, Sir," Amut replies smoothly. "We'll follow the trail and talk with this Mr. Mahdi. Or Mr. Mahjub. I'm not so good with foreign names." She gives Raijan a quick smile, and echoes the tengu's words. "We're fair people, and will him his proper dues. Depending on his role in all this, of course."
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Amut feels a need to warn her companions when they have left the solicitor's office and are on their way to Misery Row. "Now, we should remember that this Mahdi-fellow is running a legitimate business in Absalom, despite our feelings on the matter. We don't have any indication yet on how he treat his slaves, and on whether he's responsible for using them as unwitting spies. All I'm saying, we can't just start tearing the place apart..."
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Salbus eyes Quintillus's familiar with distaste. "I'm afraid I don't have anything that your...rodent...would find appealing. Now, if there's nothing else I can do for you, I must bid you all good day." He returns to copying out the contract, clearly finding your presence in his office distasteful.
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Leaving the Red Letter, you make your way through the Coins to the eastern edge of the district, where you find your goal: Misery Row. The long, elevated platform is the only place in Absalom where it is legal to buy or sell slaves, and the site of the slave market--many of the slaves are kept in cages set into the floor of the elevated platform, giving the place the nickname "the slave pits"--is enough to turn a stomach.
As you make your way south along the platform, though, you find the building about which you've been told. The single-story building with large, full-length windows has a hanging sign identifying it as "Mahdi's Chattel - Absalom's Finest!" in flowing script. Heavy curtains are drawn over all of the windows. As you approach, you see that one of those windows is smashed, and that there's a small painted sign hanging over the latch of the door reading, "Closed." The door's not fully shut, though, and there are some scratches and other signs of damage around the handle and latch...
You can faintly hear low, threatening speech from inside the building, punctuated repeatedly by the sound of something heavy being slammed against wood.
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Amut tilts her head, but doesn't hear anything. "I don't hear it," she says. "But from that smashed window, it's reasonable to expect trouble. Maybe someone is already tearing apart the place? By the way, what was up with that rabbit of your at Salbus's?" she asks Quintillus. "For a second I thought it might have been some Chelaxian code, to show another a rabbit. But Salbus didn't seem in on the secret, if that were the case." There's a very thin smile around Amut's mouth, and it's difficult to figure out if she's joking. "So, should we go in?"
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Sometimes a rabbit is just a rabbit, or is it, Amut. Since you seem to have a distrust of those from Cheliax.
In response to the Tian's question I am
As he reaches into a pouch and begins to cast a spell. The manuevering of fingers and the spidery language of magic come together as a shiny form of armor appears and then fades
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Roscoe, lifting the curtain aside, sees a well-appointed sitting room, but no evidence of people. There is, however, a door in the room that might lead to another chamber. None of the ground-floor windows seem arranged to point into that other room.
Mahdi's Chattel is pleasantly decorated. An Andorran rug lies over the polished wooden floor of the entryway, and a small decorative table holds a curious stone statue. The eastern half of the room is in slight disarray, apparently from light renovations that are nearly complete.
There is a door in the eastern wall, and now that you're inside you can more clearly identify the sounds as coming from the area beyond that door.
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Deep and guttural: "You've had more'n enough time t'figure this out, Mahdi! You know the Sanguine Beast don't make exceptions or grant favors. You're gonna have to come up with this month's money, today."
Refined tenor (slightly panicked): "Mezuk, my friend, can we not be reasonable about this?! I have done good business lately, yes, but I have also had to undertake renovations--you saw them when you came through--and I'm sure that the Beast could survive for a few days without--"
*sound of something glass smashing, the tenor voice yells*
Deep and guttural: "That's not good enough! Come on now, count out this month's money or my friends an' I will just take whatever you've got to feed the beast. And you won't like how we take it, neither!"
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Raijan throws open the door, revealing a large parlor that doubles as an office for Mahjub Mahdi to conduct his objectionable but legal business. The room's furnishings consist of a round table with two comfortable chairs, a desk with a metal-banded strongbox beneath it, and a refreshment cart. Two paintings hanging on the north wall both depict the bustling port city of Katheer.
At the moment, though, the room is occupied, even crowded: two lanky, rough-looking human men are leaning against the walls next to and across from the door as Amut enters, and they spring up, drawing short swords, as she makes her declaration. Over near the desk, a large half-orc with a greatsword strapped to his back is pinning a Keleshite man with facial tattoos and a luxurious, forked beard up against the wall, the handle of a mace keeping his victim in place. The half-orc turns toward you slowly, keeping the struggling man pinned to the wall.
"Oh, I think we can deal with a fight if it happens," he snarls toward Amut (identifying him as the man with the guttural voice), "But I don't know that you want that. This here is a business negotiation, see. So if I were you, I'd leave and learn to mind my own f#$~ing business! You can have at him when we're done."
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The half-orc sneers at Amut, but as the rest of you speak up his look turns calculating.
"I hear your concerns, folks. And no one wants violence now, certainly not me." He belies his claim by maintaining his grip on Mahjub Mahdi. "Try to see my position, though, folks. The Sanguine Beast, now--it's got to be fed. Not a good thing if it's not. And it loves the taste of gold more than damn near anything else in the world.
"Now normally with a fool like this 'un, I'd break his kneecaps, wreck his store, and take anything valuable. But you folks seem reasonable and I'm willing to extend some reason in return. I get a down payment--say, 50 measures--and I'd be happy to take that back to the Beast and follow up at some unspecified day in the future. But I just can't go back to her empty handed, see."
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Amut smirks at Jinny's remark. "Somehow, I doubt he has such a delicate taste." She then turns to the half-orc. "Done," she says with a dashing smile. "Seems like a bargain to me." She turns to the left to reach in her coin pouch, which conveniently shields her face from the others in the room. "I guess he'll be amenable to talking, if we spare him a wrecked shop - and his kneecaps."
She digs out a small pouch. "Here. Fifty measure. Tell the Beast not to spend it all in once place..."
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The half-orc smiles, though he still looks slightly uneasy. "Rolf, count it." The nearest thug grabs the pouch and digs through it for a few seconds. "Yeh, looks right to me." The half-orc lets out a long breath and lets Mahdi down, brushing him off for a few seconds.
"Well then. Well then, well then." He stows the mace and nods cordially to you all, heading toward the door with his two thugs. "Pleasure doing business with you folks. Thanks for the down payment. Mahdi--you'd best get your books in order. Soon. And remember, folks: no one messes with the Sanguine Beast!"
And they're gone.
Mahjub Mahdi catches his breath, then turns to you all, breaking into a wide, beaming smile. "THANK YOU! My friends, I cannot thank you enough for your help with that...horrible...terrible man! A complete, utter, total misunderstanding!" He runs his hand nervously over his tightly pulled-back hair. "Well, that's behind us. Thank goodness, thank goodness. What are you all looking for? What brings you to my humble shop? How can Mahjub Mahdi help you?"
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Amut watches the thugs leave, then strides up close to the shop owner. She puts her Suli charms to work and gives him a mysterious smile. "Good master Mahdi - Can I call you Muhjab? - we're here for some information regarding a transaction that you made recently, with a solicitor named Solvius Salbus on behalf of Lady Silviana Dimora. It's about a woman named Atlag. Surely you remember...? It was found the the woman wore an arcane mark used for spying. Quite distressing for Lady Dimora. Obviously, you had nothing to do with that. We're just trying to find out who did. Since we just saved your shop from a terrible fate - and your kneecaps as well - I'm sure you can do us a favor and tell us what you know about the woman."
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"Mahjub! Mah-jub," the Keleshite corrects Amut gently. "And yes, of course you may call me by my given name! Atlag...yes, I remember her!" He snaps his fingers. "I'm so sorry to hear that she's been found to be flawed in some way! Well, ordinarily I might request a fee for such information, but in light of all that you've done for me, well, how could I possibly refuse you? I obtained Atlag through a somewhat infrequent supplier, a Captain Waheeda Wardak. She sails on a ship called the At Sea, and the last several times she's been in port the ship has had the yellow sails that denote its origin in Okeno. It's been some time since I saw Captain Wardak, but I'm actually expecting another shipment from her tomorrow! Fortuitous timing. The At Sea should be docking tonight, if it's not done so already!"
Mahjub Mahdi glances at the wayfinder hanging from Amut's belt and clears his throat, before adding, "I, er...would not ordinarily volunteer this information, but it seems that you might want to know...I was told to expect an enslaved member of the Pathfinder Society in tomorrow's shipment from Captain Wardak. No idea how that came to happen of course, but Pathfinders do tend to get into unfortunate scrapes all over the world! The information might be of use to you, I imagine." He beams at you all, clapping his hands. "Now! Is there anything else I can do for you? Some refreshments, perhaps?"
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Thank you so much for your cooperation.
Now I am very sorry to inform you that the Lady Silviana Dimora's distress can scarcely be enumerated. However, she has, despite the difficulty and her distress, managed to do just that. While she would certainly hope to patronize you in the future, and would love for your good name to remain untarnished, she is gravely concerned that neither of those things can happen unless you are able to effect pecuniary redress for the Atlag error. Rumors have already begun to swirl, and she fears she cannot work with you to dispel them on your behalf otherwise.
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Mahdi pales and runs his hands over his chestnut hair again. "Oh dear, oh dear! I'm very sorry to hear that the Atlag situation has upset Lady Silviana...well, I wouldn't ordinarily do this, but I suppose that I can cancel the sale order on Atlag, yes? That would make her a...gift, if you will. And of course it would refund Lady Silviana's purchase! Then she can help dispel all these nasty rumors and whatnot, yes? Wouldn't want any nonsense like that attached to my name, no, not at all! I'll have the paperwork sent over to her solicitor post-haste."
The slaver smiles eagerly at you all. "Was there anything else?"
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Amut is suddenly a lot cooler towards Mahdi when she has all the information she needs. "Sorry, I've never been good with names. Thanks for the cooperation, very smart choice." She nods at Raijin. "And very 'generous' of you as well, to reimburse Lady Silviana. I'm sure she'll appreciate it." Could we spin this somehow into setting Arlag free? Lady Silviana gets her money back, and Mahdi doesn't 'own' her anymore.
Mahdi's news about an enslaved Pathfinder troubles Amut, and her milky white eyes tighten for a moment. "What? How could that happen? How could a Pathfinder just find himself enslaved? Was he in debt, or was he just rounded up somewhere on the streets?" Her voice makes it clear what she thinks of the last possibility. "This captain Wardak is from Oseko, you say? I don't think I'm familiar with that place. Anything we should know?"