Dvalin & Ali
Dvalin and Ali, for their part, try to seek out Kayama, the lime merchant whose name Eadie managed to wring out of their assailants. Dvalin’s approach is not exactly subtle, going virtually door-to-door to ask about the man. But while his partner starts to barge into his fourth hair salon for answers, Ali manages to guide the dwarf towards a more relevant business: Chima’s Waffle Emporium.
Entering the front door the two find inside a moderately sized restaurant, with tables packed with patrons eating waffles of all shapes and sizes. Atop the counter sits a large gleaming helm with small wings sticking out from it, and behind it stands a tall nagaji with a syrup-covered smock draped over heavy armor. He smiles as you come in. ”Ah, welcome to Chima’s Waffles! Can I interested you in a waffle? We offer a variety of toppings and flavors, even maple syrup straight from Tien Xia!”
So sirrah, where do you keep the good stuff…you know the limes and other things?
Chima frowns (at least as best his scaly mouth can). Oh, unfortunately those are still in the…experimental phase right now. Our kitchen’s last attempt was…what did Vetis call it?” he asks, turning towards the helmet. In response, strange flowing words begin emitting from the helm.
”Well, it did not go over well. And we don’t have a new shipment in right now to tinker with the recipe. But we do have some lovely banana, boysenberry, and garret chip waffles if you would like!”
The helmet starts speaking again.
, but Chima cheerily rebukes it. ”Nonsense Aaelis. These are customers, and Chima’s Waffle Emporium will never turn away a hungry customer!” The nagaji does turn back to face Ali and Dvalin with a concerned look on his face however.
”I don’t know why you would need to find Mr. Ardoc. He’s not a cruel man, but certainly not exactly an exemplar of good. I try not to get too involved in what they’re doing myself – I just set up this branch of the Waffle stand and don’t want any trouble in my place. Luckily its not too hard: from what I hear Besel is more of the pub sort than caring about the most important meal of the day. People like to imply he can’t make it through a day without a pint or six of whatever grog the pub he’s in is selling – all out of an Ardoc man’s earshot of course. If you need to find him I wish you luck, but also caution. The nagaji’s pleasant smile returns as he asks ”But enough of that. How about some waffles?”
Eadie and Yakima
Eadie sets up on another street corner, fake pregnancy and all. Surprisingly, her hysterical act isn’t even the oddest thing she and Yakima pass by on the streets (that honor would likely go to a gnome juggling burning leshys for tips), but the fighter and the tiefling notice that most of the Kaer Magans around them seem to be keeping Eadie – and her sign – at a safe distance.
After several hours of the ‘expectant mothers’’ woeful cries, Yakima turns away from her companion for a moment to find a dwarf standing in front of her. Dressed in a disheveled uniform of a sort the tiefling can’t recognize, the dwarf’s gaze looks at Yakima sternly and motions for her to lean in as he whispers.
“Ah seen you hanging around that sad girl. Ye a friend o’ hers, eh? Well, a good friend’ best be one by warning her off this. An Ardoc want a baby he’ll get tto it, but go about dispargin’ them and that’s a recipe for worse than single motherhood. Those Ardocs aren’t stupid. They run the best golem-making factory since Thassilon: 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 or extort him for support, you best change your mind, friend.”
The dwarf turns to go, but fishes out a crudely carved small wooden horse before he leaves. ”Here, for the kid. Just remember having an intact mom’d be better.”
Crowe and Traber
Crowe and Traber head off farther into Bis, asking around for Besel Ardoc. Most of the people they chat with either clam up at the topic or laugh at the Pathfinders’ questions. ”Ha! Tell you what, when you see him ask him if he’s got one of those robot legs to spare for ol’ Yamil, eh?”
Still, the pair are dogged, and eventually their persistence seems to pay off. In a dive bar near the border of Bis and Downmarket, Traber unsuccessfully tries to pry gossip out of the bartender and Crowe stands over him when a hulking muscular man in a bleached wig saunters into the joint. He gives a light wave to the bartender as he sits and orders a ‘full breakfast for a long night’s work’. Once the man hears you two mention the name Besel Ardoc however, he turns towards you and calls you over in a deep booming voice.
”Besel? Oh, look at you too. Green to Maga aren’t you, just going around and asking about B. Well you are in luck, ‘cause Miss Feathers is in a good mood this morning. So how about you two children buy a girl a drink and I might be able to jog something loose up here.” he says, tapping his skull.
As he takes in a couple of drinks, Miss Feathers becomesquite talkative, with story after story intercut. ”…so then as Proctor and I were running off I hear Jool say to him [b]”I don’t know, looks to me like you handle that horse there well enough!” Miss Feathers lets out a quick laugh and drinks another sip from his glass.
“Ah, you should have been there. But you two are looking for old B, right? Oh yeah, I seen him around many a time. Never got nice and personal with him, but a lady roams enough you come across all sorts. Mostly he and his metal men are drinking down in Downmarket a bunch— well, he is at least. Clankers don’t need to unwind after a long day in the Kiln do they? Of course most of the time I’ve caughyt a glimpse of him I’ve been ‘on the clock’ so to speak, and with a few down the hatch myself. It’s probably because of those pints that I can’t recall the name of the pub where I last saw him. Still, men like that are men of habits, aren’t they?”[/b]
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Ali sniffs the air for a moment Did you say garret chip? I do enjoy garret chips quite a bit! If only we knew the name of a good pub to go to after this indeed Dvalin! I guess we'll just have to sit here loudly asking questions and drawing attention to ourselves and chowing down on waffles until we can think of a place to go!
Traber listens attentively to Miss Feathers, making the appropriate noises at the appropriate times. Once she's done all he says is, "Clankers? Kiln? Do you need a refill?"
"Well it would be un-ladylike to refuse such a generous offer." Miss Feather replies in his deep husky voice at Traber's last comment. He takes another slow draught from the bottle and laughs again at the oracle's questions. "Oh honey. Clankers: the big giant golems made of iron. B doesn't so much as tie his shoe without at least a pair of them around watching him do it. And you don't know the Kiln? Big golemworks and smelting district? Run by the Ardocs? That we're in? You really are a Kaer Magan virgin."
Quite tipsy at this point, he looks at Traber salaciously. "Of course everyone that sort of thing can be helped with the right type of friend. I've got nowhere to be for the next few hours..."
"Well now, that was helpful enough to work up an appetite ... I'll take an order of waffles ..."
Ali sniffs the air for a moment. "Did you say garret chip? I do enjoy garret chips quite a bit!"
Chima smiles broadly. "Oh I'm so excited. I guarantee: it's only the finest Ayajinbo garret for our meals!" He takes your coin and a few minutes later Ali and Dvalin both are present with a plate filled with a precariously balanced pile of heaping waffles. Digging in the the breakfast treat, you can understand why the nagaji's store seems so packed: these waffles are delicious!
As the two Pathfinders eat, and loudly talk about wanting a tasty beverage to wash it down, two other patrons speak up.
"See I told you. I told you Chima! You need to tack on a soda fountain; that's the missing ingredient!"
"Knock it off Crixus, these two are clearly attempting to provide an acceptable social cover for their lingering alcoholism by seeking to introduce liquor into this fine dining establishment rather than simply head over into a nearby poison dispensary, thus presenting to all the fact they are dependent of a drug in order to function even at this early hour."
"See Felix. That. Fancy talk like that is why no one likes you."
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Ali turns around and gives a broad smile and a faint golden halo appears around his head Me, an alcoholic Felix, why surely you must jest. His thrush begins to fly around singing a song while the waffles seem to almost cut themselves.
Yes, a soda would be so lovely Crixus - and think of it, you already have garret chips and boysenberries and...dare I say limes? All of which would go great for a soda fountain. Why, if only such a thing were here I might order another order of waffles. As it stands what I am just supposed to drink cow-milk? Or coffee - in this heat? Surely you can see the problems here.
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When handed the wooden horse carving Eadie *claps* her hands with glee. "Ooh, a pony! What’s her name, Yakima?"
"I’m going to hang it from my belt to remind me of our adventure together in the City of Strangers!"
She turns the equine over in her hands. “Horses are also favored by the Master of the First Vault. Maybe it’s a sign!”
The warrior wipes her face with her grubby linen tasset and consults her companion. “I’m thirsty. Maybe we should go see if the boys had better luck?”
“Now, where should we go? Maybe there’s a dive bar on the border of Downmarket and Bis we could try? Chima’s International House of Waffles might also be on the way.”
She extracts the non-Dean couch cushion once they’re moving and considers throwing it at the simply horrid leshy-tossing gnome.
The big meanie! Poor leshies. I s‘pose I’d better not cause a scene by tearing his head off ...
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Traber returns his smile. "Unfortunately, Miss Feathers, the urgent nature of my business here prevents me from allowing you to pop my Kaer Magan cherry at this time. I do want to thank you for your company and the information. Once my business has been tended too, I hope you would not be offended if I were to look you up again."
As he takes his leave, Traber tips him.
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Crowe stands behind Traber as he converses with Miss Feathers. He mostly stares, arms folded as the man's lips are loosened with a heavy application of booze. Occasionally, Crowe scans the crowd of the tavern, sometimes darting his head in many directions as he tries to pick out potential threats amidst the chaos of the bar. When Traber concludes his discussion, Crowe nods, and follows the oracle without saying a word.
”I myself find mineral water to provide the freshest taste alongside the healthiest results.” Felix smugly responds to Ali. "Purified by at least a Kurgite of course: there is not a spring that can be properly trusted within a hundred miles of this establishment.”
Crixus rolls his eyes at his breakfast-mate again. ”Ugh. Elitist. Here, why don’t you too just slurp up all the syrup?” he says as he unashamedly licks his plate clean of strawberry juices. ”Hits the spot and gets the purse’s worth!”
———————
Toying with the carved horse figure, Eadie and Yakima get on the move again. As the fighter pulls the cushion from beneath her outfit, a blind beggar tilts his head towards the pair. He lets out a grin and lifts his cloth fold to give a knowing wink.
———————
Traber returns his smile. "Unfortunately, Miss Feathers, the urgent nature of my business here prevents me from allowing you to pop my Kaer Magan cherry at this time. I do want to thank you for your company and the information. Once my business has been tended too, I hope you would not be offended if I were to look you up again.”
Miss Feathers cocks his head at Traber ”But of course we all have to make a living. Just remember that all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Your deal gets you too wound up, I’m sure you can find me.”
His coy smile widens even further at Traber drops a stack of coins on the table. ”Or heck, maybe I’ll find you somewhere around.Just don’t go forgetting about Miss Feathers, deal?”
The man gives one last light laugh and a wave as the two Pathfinders exit to bar to seek out Besel once more.
—————————————
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He lets out a grin and lifts his cloth fold to give a knowing wink.
Eadie’s mouth hangs open in surprise. “Did you see that, Yakima? I’m almost certain that blind dude isn’t blind at all! I'd say he’s just very short-sighted.”
I swear it feels like I’m the only honest person left on the face of Golarion!
“So shall we swing by Master Collgardie’s flat to collect my armor and catch up with the fellas, Yakima?”
♞♞♞♞
Once they’ve caught up …
“OK, let’s discuss the most important thing first. Ali and Dvalin, did you bring us back any waffles?”
With the mutual exchange of information completed, Eadie summarizes her understanding. “So Besel Ardoc drinks WITHOUT his golem bodyguards at some down-at-heel pub in Downmarket. But we don’t know which one it is?”
“I guess we’re going to have to hit the streets again to find out.”
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"Coffee's not so bad with these waffles, but it should have a kick to it if you know what I mean. 'Course you could always go with a bit of juice and bubbles too. That seems to be a favorite morning indulgence these days. If ye can help a thirsty dwarf out I'll take an order of waffles to go ..."
Dvalin heads back to rendezvous with the rest of the party and share what information they have before splitting back up and hitting the pubs of Downmarket ...
Ali & Dvalin
The aasimar and the dwarf tromp all around Downmarket for hours, making incremental headway and many irritated bar patrons. After getting thrown out of yet another dive for questioning the quality of their Aldori G&T, they look up to find a bemused kitsune fellow leading a overflowing cart of limes behind him.
"Well, that is impressive. I've never seen Aric give the toss to someone before their wallet gave out before. And from the look of your clothes you two seem flush enough to keep going. What did you do - not like his portions? His ratio for a Feysplitter is a bit of a sore spot for him."
On his cart, you see the painted words 'Kayama: dragonslayer professor lime merchant'
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Eadie & Yakima and Crowe & Traber
Though they set off in different directions, the other two pairs of Pathfinders end up bumping into each other again as traffic slows. The street ahead is clogged by two large palanquins heading in opposite directions, blocking most of the thoroughfare. A chelaxian man riding in one screams obscenities at his elven counterpart while the zombies and skeletons each caster has carrying them stare passively ahead. As you try to peer around and see if there's a way past, the four of you notice nearby spectators begin to sidle slowly away.
With one final curse upon her mother and species, the elven woman snaps and yells out a command in abyssal. Her raised seat drops as her zombie pallbearers shamble forward to attack the Chelxians undead. As rotting guts and limbs spill out into the streets, you manage to hear a nearby halfling sway and drunkenly mutter to himself. "No the, thers a show. Should get the Ardoc down here, up 'is alley *hic*"
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… the other two pairs of Pathfinders end up bumping into each other again.
As the muscular Shoanti and proud Mummy approach Yakima and Eadie, the young warrior points out the ‘suspicious characters’ to her white-faced companion. “Possible tangoes on an intercept course, Yakima. But I can’t shake the feeling I’ve seen them before …”
☮☮☮☮
Once the potential blue-on-blue incident is avoided, Eadie smiles at the tipsy stranger.
“No the, thers a show. Should get the Ardoc down here …”
She draws her falchion and holds it up nervously. “Oh dear! A fight you say? I hope I won’t have to try and use this thing to defend myself.”
“Say, I’ll bet you a six-scull of ale I can spot Besel Ardoc before you do.”
“Say, I’ll bet you a six-scull of ale I can spot Besel Ardoc before you do.”
The halfling gives out a giant grin, revealing at least three missing teeth. "Haha! I cun take it now! Caught him down b'the troll temple this mornin', aight? 'Augur’s Entrails' pub I tink. There’s a troll on the sign pullin’ his own damn guts an inside stuff out on the sign. Won' catch me in macabababare place like 'at but I seen 'im I dun. So where me sixer at?"
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Eadie drops her falchion on her shoulder with one hand, lifts her visor and with an amused but patient voice replies. “I meant who spots him first when he arrives to watch the brawl.”
She smiles good-naturedly. “But seein’ hows I’m in a good mood, I’ll give yer ‘alf now. Ya earn the other ‘alf when I claps eyes on Big B, ye ken? We can wait, or take me and me mates to ‘im now.”
Eadie slips the halfling 1sp 2cp.
The halfling quickly snatches the coins and bites on them before cheerfully thanking Eadie. "Ah y'know where it's is I bet. Jes g'luck - he's big seris man." It gives an exagerrated 'gruff' expression before scampering off with his newfound windfall.
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"Well now ... it seems that we ask too many questions to be sure. Say ... a fine merchant such as yourself must get around quite a bit in this town ... may hap you could help us out a wee bit eh? It seems somebody had it in for a clothier named Horis Collgardie when we stumbled upon the scene. Being the up standing sort of fellas we be, the crew tried to help out ta no avail. Disappointing really ... though we figure a chap named Ardic might be able to shed some light on the subject; 'course he's mighty difficult to pin down he is ... at any rate ... have ya heard anything 'bout these boys? Collgardie or Ardoc?"
”Murder, intrigue? I? How flattering – you think very highly of Kayama! But I am just a humble lime merchant. Who sells limes. Being nosy would be terrible for business, wouldn’t it?”
The kitsune steps a bit closer to Dvalin, a mischevious grin on his face as he digs out a lime from his cart and tosses it idly in the air.
”Yes, you don’t get to be the best lime merchant in all of Kaer Maga by butting in. So even if a modest entrepreneur was to see a noble man with iron ‘friends’ at the Augur’s Entrails this morning in Downmarket, it would be more a burden than a nice bit of gossip. Oh damn this lime-enchanced eyesight! And I certainly didn’t hear – the vitamin C in limes does wonders for the ears as well – him say he’d be back there again tomorrow morning. Because I sell limes notsecrets”
Kayama flips the lime he’s been playing with to Archimedes. ”Here, have a sample. Who knows: perhaps if your fallen friend had had more limes he might have been beside you right now. Limes are an excellent constitution booster!”
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Ali grins at the turn of luck this has turned out to be and gladly pockets the limes I dont think there's a barkeep in this town who uses enough lime to cover the poor quality of their product, so yes it might be nice to have extra limes...when we aren't staking out the downmarket tomorrow. Too bad you couldn't be of any help Kayama, I might have offered a reward
And with that the happy go lucky paladin trots away from the lime merchant to setup shop at the downmarket.
Dvalin and Ali, and the other foursome, all head towards the 'Augur's Entrails, hoping to stake it out before reporting back to the others. That meet-up proves redundant however when the six of you find each other all congregating right outside the dive-y looking pub. And judging by the three massive iron golems standing outside, you guess that Besel hasn't gone anywhere.
Entering the bar, you see that the interior is quite a bit more upscale than it's sign and door would have lead you to expect. An eviscerated statue of a troll in a toga hangs above a well-polished bar where a bald man polishes glasses and gives you a curt nod as you come in. There are about a dozen tables spread throughout the room, but most are empty and what few conversations are to be had are done in hushed tones.
It's obvious enough what's causing the regulars some discomfort: two more iron golems stand awkwardly stooped over beside a table in the room's corner, at which sits a muscular man with a stylish beard. He is dressed in a form of crafting apron, but one made from fine fabrics. Sheafing through stacks of paper in one gloved hand while sipping a pint with the other, the man glances momentarily at you before returning to his notes.
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Eadie sheathes her blade and makes sure her wayfinder and a brass key on a thin leather strap around her neck are visible before entering the Augur’s Entrails. Her ioun torch and stones make a leisurely orbit above her great helm.
The young warrior casts her eyes around the tavern looking for hidden threats, before advancing towards Besel Ardoc in support of the others.
Her tone is friendly but businesslike. “A mutual friend was the victim of foul play on your home turf. We are interested in finding those responsible. Can you help us?”
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Before going in Traber casts Guidance on himself.
Traber walks up to stand next to a golem. Not trying to move past it. "Please pardon my companions' rough edges, good sir. Their talents do not lean towards polite social interaction. If you have the time, we would like to speak to you concerning the recently deceased Horis Collgardie and a missive he sent prior to his unfortunate end." He waits to be offered a seat.
Guidance.
Are these golems yours? The craftsmanship suggests you arent from Kaer Maga - too nice for that.
Without even looking up the man lets out a snort that threatens to cause some of his ale to spill. ”A lot nicer than your angels over in Magnimar I’d wager. Our creations actually follow orders instead of turning on their owners.”
When Eadie and Traber mention Collgardie however, the man's head rises and he holds the six of you in his gaze.
”What do you know about Horis…oh,” he says, eyebrows arhing in surprise. ”You’re them aren’t you. The Shadow Lodge. Well you certainly have stones on you still being here. But the letter’s already been sent, and as I had dear departed Horis write your ten I’d advise you get out of the city before we start taking a more serious approach to addressing Pathfinders here. You’ll find I’m not as helpless as an old merchant.” He barks a single strange word and both golems’ head swivel towards you.
”Oh, then those masked leaders of yours did send a response. Took their time of course. I’m sure Horis wouldn’t mind whatever time-sensitive projects delayed your arrival: maybe one of them can shift out to the Boneyard to hear his thoughts on the matter.”
Besel’s voice drips with sarcasm, but he motions for you to grab some nearby chairs and sit down.
”No matter, his report did get through. Horis should have told you most of the relevant points but to be brief: Kaer Maga is gracious enough to host the occasional wandering Pathfinder. Sometimes even a passing group. But those of us who are Those Of Us thought we had an arrangement with your outfit - No Lodges. Not here. We don’t want the trouble it brings. I, my men, and my counterparts’ men see more and more Pathfinders scurrying about and attempting to organize a new branch of your headquarters, it ruffles quite a few feathers. Horis said he had a contact high-enough up your chain of command who might be able to provide a worthy explanation for this.”
”I am listening.”
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"Well now ... we have a story for ya then ... see the powers that be are pretty much happy with said 'arrangement' and were very put out when they received word from Horis that some folks have taken it upon themselves to tarnish our reputation, such as it is, by pretending to represent our organization. We were dispatch here immediately after receiving Horis' note to find out exactly what was going on ... and if possible, shut down this unauthorized lodge. Unfortunately, it appears that they stole a march on us before we could get here and now we have few clues as to where to find these nefarious imposters. If you could point us in the direction of these 'organizers,' we'd be happy to ta clean house so ta speak."
"Well," Besel says. "I'm glad to hear it."
He then sighs and turns back to his notes. "Sadly however your new Lodge, while disruptive, is far from the only thing on my list. I've kept tabs on it certainly, but as of late have not dedicated any real resources to it. Better for you, as it turns out."
"I only hired the goons to kill Horis' killers - business of course, you understand - because Dakar dropped me a line he could use a favor." The artificer glances up again and gives a grin. “And being owed a favor by Dakar is worth more than all the gold in your vaults in Absalom.”
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Huh? Did I miss something?
Eadie exchanges a puzzled look with her companions. Who’s Dakar?
“And being owed a favor by Dakar is worth more than all the gold in your vaults in Absalom.”
“I’m sure it is, Mr Ardoc.” Eadie nods her head sagely.
Knowing how much gold is in MY vaults in Absalom, it would have to be!
”The information I have? You have it. There’s at least a half-dozen of you with no respect for balance running around. Well, another half-dozen.” he looks at you with a smirk. ”They aren’t in Bis. Beyond that, well that’s your problem now isn’t it? Dakar would know I’m sure: he has ears everywhere. I wouldn’t worry too much about tracking him down. He’s the sort who can always find you.”
”Now,” Besel says as hi waves a dismissive hand. ”Unless one of you also happens to be a new tailor you have your own house to put in order. So start cleaning before others do it for you.”
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Eadie bows formally as she turns to leave Ardoc to his meal. As a former clerk at the Bank of Abadar in Korvosa, she knows “Get out!” from a manager-type when she hears it.
“Thank-you for your time, Mr Ardoc. Have a nice day.”
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Once they’re back outside, she enquires “Has anyone heard of this Mr or Ms Dakar? Big B said the rogue Pathfinders don't hang out in Bis. I wonder how long it will be for Dakar to find us?”