So this is the infamous 'Stirge'. Elsie keeps her expression neutral as she calculates what his appearance here meant. This is no coincidence...yet how did he learn of Mahaas? Still many unanswered questions of this one.
"It seems you know our purpose here Stirge. I am sure you know of myself as well. I am Elsie, a troubleshooter of sorts. Anything more detailed would be...improper. What say we work together here. An alliance borne of need?" She smile charmingly at the darkly cloaked man.
Darc eyes Elise, his face questioning her offer of friendship, he whispers to her "But how can we trust one in the shadows, that spies on us and offers an alliance that is too good to be true." He looks the stranger up and down, the hair on back of his neck bristles, as he coolly states, "Those who have betrayed Elise's faith, have found the cold waters of the Lyme their last resting place. I hope you understand." Darc shifts his feet as though the soles of his boots burn, like a cat ready to pounce, but he waits for others to unleash his distrust.
The Stirge stares coolly at "the Changer," betraying no effect from her interrogation, his cloaked face remaining expressionless. "Following you? You are the one who approached me and interrupted my work." The Stirge had been following them, but attempts, not all that convincingly, to suggest otherwise.
.
Elise, on the other hand, seems to draw him out. "So you have heard of me, Elise? Then perhaps you should enlighten your muscle there"--the Stirge points to Darc--"that if I were your enemy, you would not have seen me. I am here for one reason and one reason only: to bring an end to this so-called burning death that infests this city. If that is your purpose, then we are, as you say, allies. Get in the way of that mission, and we are enemies. Agreed?"
"Then how do you know for certain who we are looking for," Tella says, her voice still cold, but not as hostile.
"Not that it seems to matter. At least two of us don't mind you around," she adds before he can answer, "If you are as skilled as you say you are, then I'm glad to have the help, assuming that's what you are doing."
Darc remains ready on his toes, silent but watching the stranger through half-closed eyes that never leave the Stirge.
The Stirge looks to the assembled group. Knowing that Elise, Ruby and Tella were on board would be enough. Darc would follow Elise's lead, even if he remained extremely suspicious. "Excellent. Then it's time knock on some doors. I haven't seen Mahaas or his friend come in or out yet, so we'll just have to hope to catch them at home."
"Tips, rumors, luck, that's the currency of our trade, isn't it? Not sure what you think the difference is between them all. Suffice it to say that I have my sources." Not wanting to incriminate himself, the Stirge remains intentionally vague about any additional details.
Oh yes. Skill and knowledge have nothing to do with it, Tella thinks to herself as she can't quite stop herself from rolling her eyes at The Stirge's answer.
Naturally you do, my feathered 'friend'. Elsie thinks to herself as the group approaches the dwelling. Your meeting here is no coincidence...still any chance to learn more of you and what truly drives you can only prove useful to my employers.
These people are too curious and too clever. Perhaps it was a mistake to reveal myself to them so soon. Ordinarily, the Stirge would have never worked so closely with a group, knowing the risks of revealing his secret. But thanks to their strange introduction by the Guild of Crematoria Masters, he felt a certain responsibility to ensure their well-being. And in that regard, the Stirge would be far more effective than Lord Varian could ever hope to be.
Darc casts his eyes to Elise, for just a few seconds he catches her knowing look, before he returns his suspicions and gaze on 'The Stirge'.
"So how we approaching this pawn-broker then?" Darc asks, now an interloper has joined Elise and this band of females.
Mean’s river-barge is of the type commonly used by river-gypsies here in the city; it has an upper deck that is little more than a flat outer level built around the central cabin whose own floor - from the height of the roof - must be some 3 feet below the surrounding deck... a broad wooden plank leads out onto the moored barge.
Upon the barge, the air smells of damp and rot, the miasma of the vessel’s own decrepitude... The deck of the mouldering boat is cluttered with countless mundane or strange objects, but pathways along the sides are clear to allow passage. A small ramp enters the barge’s cabin and beyond, in the murk inside, the place looks even more cluttered than the outer deck... as the group, one by one, board the barge a voice calls out from behind a collection of poorly stacked furniture, "It's late in the day for custom... you're luck I'm taking stock otherwise you'd not have been allowed on board... what're you after?"
...the voice, hoarse and slightly obsequious in its deference, comes from an ugly old gnome with withered, useless legs and bushy white eyebrows that prop up a faded old sea captain’s cap. Slumped in a rusted bath-chair resting on squeaking wheels, a harnessed boar with tiny, bloodshot eyes, coarse grey fur and yellow tusks pulls the contraption into view.
Upon getting a glimpse of the mangy gnome, the Stirge can't help but wonder if they had gone, far, far astray from their goal. Leaving the talking to the others, he tries to sneak around the place to investigate further into the hold of the cabin. Perhaps he could find evidence of Mahaas, or better yet some sort of connection to this burning death. Given the stacks of strange objects throughout, he hopefully has some good places to hide without being noticed.
Elsie glances around her at the surroundings, making sure nothing else unpleasant is lurking out of sight. Once satisfied the gnome and his pet boar are the only occupants in sight. Seeing the Stirge taking the initiative here, she attempts to draw the gnome's attention to herself.
"A pleasant evening to you Master Mean. You are the one known as Mean. We have business with your tenant, Mahaas. Is he available?" She lets her hand stray to her money pouch while keeping a pleasant smile upon her face.
You will owe me dearly for this, Stirge.
Here we go Elise, landing in it again... Darc shrugs as nods to the gnome, "I'm with my friend here." he growls making sure the ugly pawn-broker can see he has no weapons drawn. He looks uneasy, knowing that a stranger is trying to aid them by disappearing into the shadows.
Tella considers adding to Elise's introduction, but decides it might be prudent of her to just observe.
The Stirge is careful to keep as much distance as possible from the boar, as it occurs to him that many boars have a good sense of smell. Hopefully this one wasn't any good at sniffing out truffles . . . or rather trouble. If he thinks the boar might be catching on, he'll stop skulking and try to act like he was with the group all along.
There is a tinge of disappointment in Mean's voice as it becomes clear that the group are not here to browse through the gnome's collection of junk but when the discussion turns towards Mahaas, the chair-bound 'merchant' leers at Eliseera, "Mahaas? What business have you with him? It might be that I could tell you of his whereabouts... but I'd need to know what reason you would have with him?"
...as Uriah talks, the boar restlessly scratches at the floors ahead of it and from above them, a vicious looking crow peels off from the wheeling murder and comes to roost upon Mean's chair.
- Uriah Mean certainly hasn't noticed the figure skulking around the deck... and the boar seems quite disinterested.
"Nothing that concerns you my good sir. We just merely wish to ask him some questions." Elsie responds smoothly, her eyes glittering with disgust at the gnome's mannerisms. "If he is not here now, we can wait for him to return. Perhaps we could be persuaded to examine your wares further..."
Let's see how he reacts here...
Believing that he had not been detected, Varian tries to make his way to Uriah's private office or a similar place while he is distracted, and take a look around for anything interesting, incriminating, or the like.
Patience, Tella. Patience.
The young investigator tries not to cause any issues as Eliseera handles the talking.
Though she was finding it harder to listen to herself.
Darc eyes the crow suspiciously. The spy in the sky, black is their colour, black is their heart. he thinks as his lip curls with disgust at the bird and slowly, very slowly his hand edges closer to his crossbow.
Uriah shuffles uncomfortably in his bathchair whilst he ponders Eliseera's response to his question about Mahaas, "Okay... okay... let me see, what would folks like you want? What treasures have I here for you... Aha!!! I know..." Uriah flicks the reins of the harnessed boar causing it to shuffle forwards with a series of bad-tempered grunts...
Reaching over into a particularly precarious pile, the gnome pulls out a glass orb containing a diorama that, if one were to squint and use a healthy dose of imagination, might be the island of Festival, "This... I can sell ya this memento of your time here on the island... I'm doing you a favour for selling it to you for five gold pieces - hang on to it long enough and it'll be an antique!!! Got to accumulate before you can speculate - that's what I always say"... and it is clear, from the heaped junk across the boat, that Uriah Mean has accumulated rather a lot over the years...
"Now... you wanna know something about my tenant? Could be that I could direct you in his direction", the gnome looks expectantly between the globe in his hand and Eliseera...
Meanwhile, unnoticed by Uriah Mean, the Stirge slips through the hatch and down a steep ramp into the gnome's 'office' - even more junk clutters the tight space within the cabin with the only clear space being against the far wall where a hefty oak counter houses a small iron safe... and a small door leads further into the boat...
- Countless objects from rattraps to wedding dresses, hatpins to grandfather clocks clutter the deck... it is obvious that Mean fancies himself as an antiques dealer of a sort... yet his wares are generally little more than bric-a-brac and junk.
Elsie glances behind her, noting the absence of the mysterious figure who calls himself the Stirge. I still need to buy him some time here... Taking the glass object in her hand, she brings it up to the lantern slowly and eyes it critically. "This...diorama, as you so eloquently put it, does not seem to be particularly accurate in its appraisal of the Festival Island...but the quality is nevertheless well-made. Perhaps I could relieve you of this fine antique for a sum of four gold coins...unless you can convince me of the true worth of your...globe."
Seeing the animal markings and noticing the odor, the Stirge checks to see whether the scratch marks look like they're coming from a pig or a dog, and tries to tell if the dog smell seems like it's emanating from the sealed-off room. He also listens at the door for the sound of occupants on the other side of it.
If he doesn't hear anyone (and why would he with that roll?), he will try to quietly open the door.
"Five gold miss...", the gnome sneers in a poor imitation of exasperation, "and in ten years when folks are clamouring for such well made relics, you'll thank me for it. Look, do you want it or not? And... while we are about it, you folks want to know about Mahaas then it's..."
Mean's protestations are cut short by a sudden outburst of growling and barking from within the cabins, "Wait... hey!!! You folks trying to scam me or something? What's going on down there?!?!?!"
...in the excitement, the crow takes to the air once more.
As soon as the barking begins, the Stirge realizes he had gone too far. Closing the door again, he grabs a curio and decides to break for the way he came, hoping he could slip away undetected.
As he goes up the stairs, if it's pretty obvious that there's no way to go undetected, he will just step out as if he belonged in the inside of the cabin, and try to talk his way out of it.
It is a testament of Tella's willpower that she does not give away the lie by groaning or covering her face with her hand.
"Dreadfully sorry about that, my friend here is a inveterate packrat and collector of oddities. He really can't help himself. I apologize on his behalf and he'll pay twenty gold pieces for the item and your troubles. Now, would you mind directing us to Mahaas so we can be out of your way," Tella says, speaking pleasantly, if rapidly, as she tries to fast talk the man and whack him with an offer of enough gold to keep him from getting too suspicious.
C'mon, take the bait!
Darc quickly gets across to 'The Stirge' and makes it clear his wanderings off have nothing to do with the group. He makes to grab the stranger coming out of the cabin, holding his arms locked behind his back. "Let me deal with him, he's not one of us, he only joined with us moments before we came aboard your establishment." He roughly starts to take 'The Stirge' off the barge and to the street. "I can punish him for his misdemeanour, have no fear Mr Mean. My good friend with you, still has business to conclude."
There are no escape routes available to the Stirge that don't lead straight past the ill-tempered gnome and his boar... and so, with a hastily grabbed piece of junk, he comes out of the cabin with his 'excuse' prepared. It is obvious from Mean's body language and his foul demeanour that he is considering loosing his boar against the Stirge as he, with his obviously mock apologies, emerges from the cabin... but the quick words of Ruby and Tella alongside the way in which Darc roughly handles the 'miscreant' give him cause to stop.
Obviously lying and barely caring whether anyone believes it, Mean seizes the opportunity for more money, "That drinking bird toy is from my regal collection... you must be a collector to see it for what it is... and I do believe that I can part with it for twenty gold". Mean licks his scabrous lips, "So... let me see, twenty for the bird toy and another five for the snow-globe... I'm selling myself short here but it's good to see them go to a good home".
"Now... Mahaas then... he's been lodging in my tenements for the last few months - poor fellow couldn't get the references to lodge many other places - it was an act of charity for me to let him stay here. Whatever business you have with him... keep it legitimate, I don't want no shenanigans on my property"
"I think I saw him come back home a few hours back", Mean gestures towards the ramshackle building on the shore next to the barge, "That's my tenement... Mahaas rents the garret from me - you'll need to climb the ladder to get in" - a rusting ladder, clumsily anchored to the powdery and crumbling outer walls of the tenement, climbs 60 feet up the side to a balcony and a small door...
"A pleasure doing business with you, Master Mean." Elsie responds with a smile that does not reach her eyes as she hands over the twenty-five gold coins. "Perhaps we will do business again soon..." She adds as an afterthought. I shall definitely remember this, my friend.
She then heads out of the dwelling, moving with a purpose now that their elusive quarry is in reach.
The Stirge tries to break free from Darc's grasp, but realizing Darc's strength means it would not be easy. Instead, he endures the embarrassment until he's back on the street. Things were so much messier now that he had a group. Had he been alone, he would've just threatened the gnome for the information.
"Alright, do you mind letting go of me now, Darc? I owe your Eliseera some repayment." Should Darc let go, the Stirge flips two platinum pieces to Eliseera (20 gp). "I made a mistake back there, shouldn't have pressed on once I smelled dog. Can't really hide when those things just sniff you out." He shakes his head, angry for having made a dumb mistake.
He takes a look at the trinket he got in exchange for the money. A drinking bird. Kind of like a stirge. Despite how poorly things went down, he views it as a good omen.
Uriah Mean smiles coldly at Eliseera as the exchange of money for goods and information is carried out... and, as the group make their way back on to dry land, the belligerent gnome can hardly help himself, "Mind how you go... don't fall into the Lyme will you".
The ladder up to the roofspace of the tenement, where Mean had pointed out the small door, looks far from secure but there are no other obvious routes up to Mahaas' supposed abode.
Approaching the tenement, the Stirge does not like what he sees. "Anyone think this ladder's actually safe?"
"Most definitely not safe. Too much weight and down you go," Tella says quietly before punching The Stirge in the arm.
"That, was for being a damned idiot."
"I would agree with your assessment here." Elsie nods in reply, gazing up thoughtfully at the structure. "There would be a hidden route, undetectable to all but him to scale the building. We just need to find it."
She then slowly walks around the tenement building, eyeing the walls closely while looking for hidden handholds.
A scout around the tenement determines that the ground level structure, whilst it may have once been used as accommodation, has fallen into ruin and is apparently being used by Uriah Mean as overflow storage... and that the only way to the roofspace is indeed the ladder on the shore side of the building.
Darc looks to Elise to get permission to loose the captive 'Stirge', he growls as she nods, his arms slowly, reluctantly easing the pressure. He whispers loudly into the Stirge's ear venomously, "Don't think I'll forget, we've lost one to his own investigations, I'll not let harm come to the others." The Stirge is let go roughly in front of Elise, Darc not moving from behind the man as he offers his gold. Darc's face grim and stern, his eyes follow the Stirge as he moves away and they begin the investigation into the derelict building.
"Climbing up doesn't look a good option, we got any other way to do it?" Darc asks, following the discussion on how unsafe the ladder appears. Darc goes over to the ladder and gives the bottom a good shake, without climbing up any rungs, he feels the movement of the ladder. Even as he does this, he is constantly eyeing the Stirge, making sure the man does not suddenly try something on his own.
"I don't have any climbing gear with me, Elise?" he questions, knowing her previous expeditions often required her to pull a rabbit out of the hat, or in this case climbing equipment. "Unless we can encourage the man to leave the building of his own accord, persuade him with some sort of encouragement." his head is cupped in his dirty hand as he thinks on a solution.
He leaves the others to ponder the question, as he follows Ruby's request to stand sentry to their investigations. He wanders around the shadows of the building looking out for any interested parties and also to see if that pesky spy, the crow is anywhere to be seen. Come here little birdie, that I can wring your neck!
Elsie nods curtly for Darc to release the Stirge. "Always a pleasure to work with the great Stirge!" She adds in a cutting tone.
That fool nearly blew it there...and indeed may have tipped our hand early here...
Turning her attention to the dilapidated ladder, she gives Darc a charming smile, "I am ALWAYS prepared!", reaching into her pack and unfurling a slender coil of rope. "My skeleton key!" She is about to activate the magical rope when the sound of Ruby's murmering catches her ear.
Hmm, interesting. This Ruby is indeed quite talented... she thinks as she watches the young woman.
In a city as dismal as Castorhage, where it is almost constantly damp, foggy, and chilled — except for when it’s unbearably hot and muggy, thick with the smells of decomposing garbage, unwashed bodies, and worse things — and nicknamed for a particularly hazardous strain of fungus (the titular Blight), it’s really not particularly surprising to anyone that even something as pernicious and annoying as termites have their ugly stepbrother. That stepbrother would be the Blight stonemite.
Never confirmed to exist anywhere else beyond the bounds of the city, the Blight stonemite is a horrible, blood-red insect about 6 inches long that make an unsettling grinding noise as it gnaws through solid stone masonry and the softer mortar between. These creatures work much slower than a termite in their destruction but are no easier to remove once an infestation occurs. Stonemites are not only damaging to structures in the long term, they have a tendency to swarm when it gets very hot and humid, resulting in the collapse of major civic buildings on several occasions over the centuries during unusually sultry summers.
Stonemites are not particularly dangerous to humanoids beyond causing itching and annoying welts from bites for those who sleep too close to a nest of the feeding insects...
It is likely the pernicious effects of the stonemite that has so damaged the walls here that the ladder has become a somewhat dubious prospect... how fortunate then, that Ruby possesses the power to shape the stone in such a way that its tenuous grip of the ladder is improved.
- watching out for movement or for signs of approaching folk, Darc acts as a sentry... but sees nothing of note.
"Very impressive, Ruby," says the Stirge, admiring her handiwork. "I appreciate how someone is staying focused on solving our problems here." He subtly expresses annoyance with everyone else's jabs and Darc's relentless observations, a rising anger replacing his prior contrition. Just one irrelevant mistake, which wouldn't even have cost us anything if we just forced the info from that gnome.
Approaching the ladder, he puts some pressure on it to test its newfound stability. "So, since you're worried about me wandering off, who wants to go first?"
Elsie nods in reply to the Stirge, "I am always focused, my friend." Eyeing the ladder closely Elsie waves off the others. "I shall go first. The ladder may still hold surprises in store."