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Lia circles around behind the bar, then grabs the strongbox if she finds it. "No reason we can't turn this poisoned money to better purposes. His share will probably go to whatever defense he can muster, or to make his last days easier. We turn the rest to finding the Lady, and possibly to purchasing her freedom. We'll find Pildapush, and possibly Lady Salhar, in Misery Row. We should hurry."
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The group seeing that handing over Fredrik would only trouble them and the guards, and that the man is going to die within hours leave him and head off to Misery Row.
Moving north from Puddles, they cut through the Docks District, and into the great bizarre. Eventually after moving through the thronging vibrant humanity, with every conceivable item seemingly available for purchase, as well as several that nobody could conceive of.
Forming a great wall between Coins and the Merchants District Misery Row is a huge elevated platform with slave cages sunk along its great length that allow people to view the goods on offer. The bars are thick, the crowds are heavy, and there are no locks to pick. These horrible sunken pits are the reason almost everyone refers to Misery Row as The Slave Pits of Absalom.
The only way to access Misery Row is via sets of guarded stairs located every couple of hundred feet along its length. You see people being let past after speaking with the guards, while many more are turned away. Those that pass are more often the better dressed, and frequently those who give coin to the guards.
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Putting on her most noble bearing, Alafair approaches the guardsmen. "My retinue and I want access to the slave market. They must help replace our slaves who have sickened lately."
She slips a handful of gold coins, taken from the Grit peddlers, to the soldier.
{ooc]Modify as you will, and perhaps the others can throw an aid or two in there.[/ooc]
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The coins disappear into the guards pocket and he looks the group over dubiously,
"That's as maybe, but you don't look like you can afford the wares. And I don't know why you'd bring an armed mob to buy slaves in anycase. Of course we are reasonable men aren't we Jethrik?"
The other guard grins and replies, "Reasonable men. Open minded even Tomwin."
"Exactly. And as reasonable, open minded individuals, we could be open to further persuasion. And do you know Jethrik I heard a most illuminating phrase the other day!"
"Did you by the gods Tomwin, what a happy chance. And may I inquire as to the nature of this quite possibly divinely inspired phrase?"
"Of course you may Jethrik. It was "actions speak louder than words.""
"Good god how positively pertinent to our very situation!"
Both guards grin at Alafair, Tomwin's palm casually extended.
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Lia shoos away the others for a moment, then leans in close to the guards and puts one hand on each of their arms. "My friends, we have a delicate situation on our hands. Now, my friend and I are both, shall we say, in the employ of that gentleman there," and she gestures to Rogar. "Now he's rather an important man, being, shall we say, a man of some standing in the Taldan government. He's in the market for something to keep him occupied during his stay in the city, but he needs to do so discretely, and can't be seen to buy himself. That's what the rest of us are for. Fronts for him, so he can claim innocence if spotted. Now," and Lia pulls out a small pouch of coin. "I have a bag here with your names on it, but you'll need to do two things for me to get it. First, we need access to the market. Second, I'd like your silence. We wouldn't want the information to get into the wrong hands about the ambass-, about him, would we? So, what do you say? Maybe he'd let me have some free time after we're finished here so he can enjoy his new acquisition." She winks.
Lia reaches into the bag, and produces a gold coin. Then, she flips it into the air, and catches it, slipping it into the pouch where it clinks against a dozen or so other coins. Then, she reaches around and puts it on the belt of the first man as she runs her fingers down the arm of the second. The hand attaching the pouch deftly retrieves his bribe money (or half if too many coins) as she does so and slips it behind her.
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The guards exchange glances, but motion for you to pass, seeming more interested in the coin than the story.
Moving up onto Misery Row, the street packed with the rich, guards, and slaves, it is not hard to locate Pildapush's establishment, Pildapush Chattel. But once you reach it you see a closed sign hanging upon the door, which when tried proves to be locked.
Looking around no guards are observing you and nobody on the street seems to think you of particular note.
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Rogar glances left and right, ten whispers:"Mmmmh... is there anyone here with some skill with locks? The plan is simple, we enter trying not to alert anyone and we make this fellow give us that poor woman. Then we teach him a lesson. Pretty simple, as long as we can do it wothout alerting the guards".
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Its relatively easy for the group to conceal Lia's work and seeing no traps she easily opens the lock with a single twist of a pick.
Moving inside the group find Pildapush's Chattel to be tastefully appointed: colourful Katapeshi rugs adorn the stone floor, while water trickles delicately from a decorative mosaic fountain. Simple rosewood chairs surround a round table through which the shiny top of a hookah pokes, one braided and ebony tipped smoking arm per chair. Beyond stands a large ornate mahogany desk. Two man sized oval cages, bolted to the stone floor, sit behind the desk.
A middle-aged Vudrani man also sits behind the desk reviewing his accounts. As the group enter he looks up brow furrowing,
"What in the hells? What is the meaning of this?"
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"We had a recommendation to come and see you regarding your wares. Somebody said that you had good stock, and so we made haste to come and see. The door was unlocked, so we let ourselves in." Lia also scans the room as she speaks to the man, finishing with her eyes on his. Her expression changes to appear innocent. "Were you closed for business? We were so hoping that you would be able to help us."
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"I see, well we are closed, but I suppose I could help you - if your business can be concluded swiftly I am a busy man," Pildapush says, his expression softening somewhat.
"Now, what was it you wanted?"
Rogar seems only the two slaves in the cages behind the desk, cowed looking men, who lower there eyes whenever anyone gazes in their direction.
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Taking Rogar's arm and winking lasciviously at the man, Alafair nudges him.
"We are looking for someone a little cleaner than you're usual workplace chattel as they might share a little nocturnal recreation with his lordship and I. Not just any will do, only the finest and the best." She nuzzles close to Rogar, hamming it up a little for the audience.
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Unsure of a good physical description of the missing Lady, Alafair covers as best she can. "His Lordship will want someone fine and refined, perhaps of noble birth or bearing. If he had his preference, a Chelish background would kindle his fire more than others, if you take my meaning...Do you have any..."she lowers her voice to a whisper "...noblewomen about?"
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Rogar tries his best to look like the stereotypical effete taldan noble dandy searching for extreme entertainments, an irate taldan noble dandy to be more specific:"We have been told you might have something of nobler stock than the usual... were we misinformed??? Cause if that's so we are going to tear you down, my cousing, the Grand Prince himself will know your name, but for all the wrong reasons, peasant!!! Now speak up, and don't lie: do you have a noble among your slaves or not??? I want her, or failing that a very convincing explanation of the reason why you would dare deny me what was promised me!!!"
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The slaver seller coughs and adjusts his collar, "Trading in nobles is most certainly illegal, and you must know I would never countenance such a thing. I may have had a slave of noble bearing who made some claims, but of course slaves often claim fanciful things seeking their freedom - it is only to be expected. One cannot believe all the nonsense they spout. I sold one who made such claims to a Katapeshi slave ship at the docks by the name of the No Return. Perhaps they would be willing to part with her if you buy her tale of woe."
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Possibly caught in the act of mimiking those he despises, Rogar carries on:"Oh, drop the act please! Everyone knows, and you were trusting a smelling Andoran junkie with your secrets, which by the way was most unseemly! But back Am I to understand you already sold the merchandise I was promised?!?!?!?! This is outrageous! Pray we can get her before the Katapeshi depart... otherwise you'll be hearing of us again!" then having had a devious idea he adds:"The name is Baron Jaquo Dalsine! Hope you never hear it again or it will be the whisper of death!!!!"
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To Rogar: "My lord, please. You know I have moved in the circles of merchants and the like. I know how they prefer to negotiate. If I may speak to this man privily?"
"Sir, if I may. My master has become very frustrated over the course of today. We have been obstructed at many turns on our journey to you. First, a certain man who we were told would be able to guide us to a man of your prestige was not forthcoming, and even attacked us before we could get him to speak with us. Then we had difficulty getting a straight answer on where this place was, followed by issues with the guards on one of the gates. His temper has grown rather short. Do you have any other women of, perhaps, a noble bearing and demeanor? Not noble-born, I might clarify, but a woman who, if cleaned up and dressed properly, might present as such? What of this slave you sold to the Katapeshi? Could you tell us more about that one? If it meets the description I gave you, perhaps it will do."
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Alafair scurries the others off and out of the slave markets. "It seems we are now looking for a Katapeshi slaver at The Docks. Let us head over there and see what there is to see."
See asks a few contacts at the docks about seeing this ship and if that fails starts asking sailors and the like at the The Docks.
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The group hurry to the docks passing through the heaving Bizarre, and through the rougher docks District. Thye make their way along the docks themselves, and Alafair questions some dock workers who point them in the direction of the No Return.
Moving through the crowded docks they eventually see the ungainly huge slave vessel, a crude but sturdy looking ship. As they approach Tromos spots a number of hidden halflings wielding bows and knives seemingly ready to pounce upon the Pathfinders!
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A halfling leaps out from behind a crate and trips swinging his shortsword wildly over his head and looking embarrassed and then worried. Four more halflings emerge firing shortbows at the party, two from atop the roof of a nearby Inn! But thankfully for the Pathfinders their aims are nearly as poor as those of their companion and only Tromos even feels an impact, which is deflected by his armour.
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"Why do these little folk always strike in crowds," Tromos grumbles, recalling his first Society assignment when an axe-wielding halfing mugger almost decapitated a druid. Recognizing the need to quickly dispatch the rooftop snipers, he draws, uncorks, and tosses back a pungent concoction designed for short bursts of enhanced muscular control and visual accuity.