"Always.", the skinny man responds to Helme with a sly smile. "You would be surprised how often this ruse works out. It's almost never seen through, actually."
He walks over to the seated fat man and taps him on the shoulder, and indicates that he wishes to take his place with a quick gesture. The fat man stands up and quickly disappears in the back of the shop. Palhuna takes his place on the pillows. "Right. No point masquerading anymore. Where were we? Ah. yes! You were contemplating running some errands for me..."
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Cypher audibly giggles.
Very well done Palhuna...
They look at him with a smile.
Well, if you insist on errands instead of some... personal negotiates, I suppose we can.
They lean over and put a very gentle hand on their knee.
I will warn you however... some of us have some... "Moral Objections" to things like, oh say, slavery. So, before you make your request, please contemplate the fact that we are pathfinders. We will be gone once this mission is done, and we have few restrictions, but we hold the ones we do have in high regard. While our job is to retrieve the item, without bloodshed if possible, you might consider the type of errands you request of us before you offer them.
They smile kindly and sweetly, but the implied threat is easy enough to read. Be careful what you ask for.
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Tenibri chuckles to himself when he returns. Well, that was a lot of to-do for nothing.
After listening to Cypher's light admonishment, he shifts his face to a more serious look. "Did you hear the capital letters when she said 'Moral Objections?' Because if you didn't, I want to emphasize that they were there."
Murqual claps his hands and smiles. "Wonderful! Though morality is often subjective, I'm sure it's nothing of the sort that would deprive you of your sleep. Probably."
"I have three tasks. Because Palhuna Murqual is as generous as an oasis, you may decide among them for those which suit you. If you help me with at least two, and hand over the note, the Archive is yours for the taking."
He begins to count off tasks on his fingers. "I have some sensitive merchandise being delivered by problematic dealers. Another recent acquisition has some unpleasant protective magic that I need dealt with. Finally, you can be my agents to make a purchase from another acquaintance."
He takes a sip from his tea while you consider.
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The holy warrior finally breaks his silence, "Since it is us who needs something from you and not the other way around. Do we really have a choice but to accept."
"Do you have anymore details than these vague descriptions of task? How problematic are these dealers that carry you merchandise and where was it to be delivered to?"
The man smirks in his chair. "I have some special goods being shipped in from the savanna tonight. I am short on staff to take the delivery, and I don’t care to be seen meeting with the deliverers. They’re gnolls. It’s a social status issue; I’m sure you understand."
"As of them being problematic - I’ve had dealings with this tribe before. They tend to ‘forget’ the agreed upon price. You’ll be carrying some additional funds - I regard it as a standard tax when dealing with them - but beyond that, I expect you to convince them that they’re not getting any extra. Once that is done, simply bring the goods here to the shop. Oh - and try not to shake whatever container they give you too much. The cargo is delicate."
"That would be a mask.", he sips on some tea again and reclines.
"The soul-binding kind. Unfortunately, it already has something bound to it. Before it can be used, that something needs to be disposed of. Examination indicates that ‘something’ is a guardian. Naturally, we wouldn't want to make a mess here in the shop. Maybe not on the streets, either - we don’t want any passerby witnesses or victims. There’s a flat-roofed warehouse nearby. It should suffice."
Marqual shakes his head when Tenibri asks whether the guardian is the rightful owner of the mask. "No. Why would you want to live in a mask? It's a creature that was bound to it at some point, and nobody was able - or willing - to get rid of it. I've made some of my own research. I’m not entirely sure, but it has the stink of Abaddon about it. Given the origins of the mask, I believe it’s a creature called a div. If that is the case, be on your guard."
He turns his head towards Hullric. "As I said - stench of Abaddon on it. I'm not an academic, but I do sense something malicious in that thing."
"As for the purchase - an acquaintance of mine owns a mirror I would like. She isn’t willing to deal in gold for it, and her fee is more than I am willing to pay. The woman's name is Madame Jelaris. She's an alchemist with a shop nearby."
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The little bird that perches almost hidden in Cypher's hair on their shoulder whispers something into their ear...
Cypher makes a face.
Div. Nasty business. We should take that job on principal. Div's want nothing more than to destroy all that's good and holy. They are vile creatures of the worst kind.
They look at the party and make a quick calculation.
I don't like the sound of dealing in something besides gold. With alchemists, that always tends to be "Let them experiment on you". We'll handle your gnoll problem and the mask, unless one of my comrades has an objection.
"Let me suggest something.", Marqual chimes in. "The mask can wait. It wasn't touched for a few months, at least. The meeting has a set time, however."
These gnolls in particular are from a local tribe that doesn't attack the settlements much, but that's probably Marqual's doing, as he keeps delivering various goods to them in exchange for ... services.
Murqual sets you up with a small donkey-pulled cart before departing his shop. Most of its contents consist of trade goods, bolts of cloth, and several casks of liquor. In addition, he gives them two sacks containing 100 gp each as additional “payment” if the gnolls prove recalcitrant.
By night, the streets of the Twilight Gate district are mostly empty. The courtyard surrounding the Ruined Monastery, a popular tourist attraction by day, is even more deserted than the surrounding streets. Perhaps this is what made it the choice location for Murqual’s gnoll “distributors,” or perhaps the gnolls feel comfortable in the shadow of this former home to Lamashtu’s faithful. In either case, the shadows lie thick underneath these crumbling walls.
Soon after arriving, you hear chatter between the temple's columns. A half-dozen hyena-like humanoids emerge from the shadows and walk towards you with their characteristic cackling.
They speak with each other as they approach.
They carry a crate and put it on the stone floor, with two gnolls guarding the crate while the rest walk towards the crate you delivered and start checking the goods.
They hiss at you angrily:
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Cypher sighs.
If you want to conduct this transaction, you'll have to do it in a tongue I understand. I don't speak Gnoll, but I'm sure you'll understand this much.
They hold out their hand as if expecting payment.
Your side of the delivery. Pretty Please.
They bat pretty eyes at the gnoll and give them a soft smile. Even when haggling with monsters, Cypher is a sight to behold.
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Tenibri sighs in frustration when the gnolls speak in a tongue he doesn't understand. He retrieves his wand of comprehend languages and--with a gentle hand motion, trying to convey that this isn't a threat--casts the spell on himself. If the gnoll leader appears to not understand Cypher, he also holds the want out towards that gnoll in a peaceful gesture, offering a casting of the spell for them as well.
One of the gnolls walks over, and looks at you half-angrily. "You say to slaver...", he looks for the words for a moment, then sticks up two fingers in your faces - "Next time ... TWO donkey! Else we raid again."
He points to the box on the floor behind them "Yours." - and walks over to the cart to take it with the doomed donkey. Just as they appeared, the gnolls disappear into the shadows. The only thing they left behind is stench and the box you are now looking at.
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I'll be sure to tell him... Cypher mutters as the gnolls walk off. They walk up to the box and kneel down to it, and listen intently.
Hello? Anyone in there? I very much doubt, but I'd rather not be tricked into taking part in slavery thank you very much.
They wait a moment for a answer they don't expect.
No response, but there are sounds of scratching from the inside.
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Cypher raises an eyebrow, checks for airholes, and if finding none to look in, motions to one of the stronger of the team to open the thing up.
I'm not giving anything alive to that slaver bastard until I'm sure it's safe to do so... for them, as well as him.
They step back.
With our luck, it'll be some kinda brain stealing monster.
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Helme sighs as her perch is taken away by the gnolls. "That was unexpected. She follows the others at the back since she's so very slow, and keeps an eye out for anyone or anything following them."
She looks at the box. "Any guesses on what's inside? I'm going with a terrible monster that will try to kill us all."
The case is not overly heavy, but scratches and growls can be heard from inside the entire time. Within a few hours, you deliver the package to Murqual's place and set it on the ground. He greedily rubs his palms together, removes the lock, and move the cover just slightly to see what's inside. The box moves as if something jumped in it, and Marqual seems to jump back a bit, but manages to hold the lid down.
"Good, good. This is the merchandise I wanted.", he smiles, locks the box again, and orders his servant to move it to the back. The servant does this, carefully moving the crate as if to not damage it.
"RIGHT!", Marqual claps to gain your attention as you watch the servant. "The mask, or the alchemist? Did you not change your mind on the way?"