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Brimly claps his hands together. "All right, first thing you gotta know about frying pans is seasoning. See this," he points to the rune on his magical frying pan, "This here means it's more seasoned. More seasoning you got, more killin' ya can do. More killin' means more stew, and stew tastes and smells better too."
He opens up his pack so the subtle notes of decomposing monster parts wafts out, along with hints of basil, rosemary, and (for some reason) honey. He continues his soliloquy on frying pans and proper cooking technique, and woven in are a few actual useful lessons in cooking!
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Seeing that Azam has vacated his place as storyteller, Sabrael coughs lightly and steps up to the spot where the host was telling The Tale of Al-Yazan the Wanderer.
"Ah, my friends, my apologies. It appears that Azam seems to be quiet busy with something," here he makes it very obvious to his compatriots that they should try to stall Azam somehow from returning to the dais, "so I, the humble Kazuud ibn Malah, would be happy to tell an abridged version of the tale."
He spreads his palms wide. "So! Currently, Al-Yazan finds himself in peril at the Oasis of Ten Palms." Sabrael taps his chin thoughtfully and continues, "but before we learn of the Wanderer's fate, let us consider what others have proposed, yes? That the Oasis of Ten Palms is a symbol of our beautiful Qadira, and the bandits who came to seize it from Al-Yazan's friends are in fact an allegory for the Keleshite invaders who seized noble Qadira under a flag of conquest."
"If such is true," the cleric droned on in a monotonous tone, "why, the merchant caravan who happens upon the oasis two chapters hence would be like Taldor, would it not? In fact, the literary scholar Abir al-Qwamzi theorized exactly that in his eighth volume, Tales of Qadira: An Unabridged Study, published over eighty years ago. In fact I just so happen to have my notes on that treatise, which I'll happily summarize for you now..."
The cleric dug with a smirk in his pockets and surveyed the crowd. They were already starting to walk away in disinterest or, barring that, somehow managing to fall asleep standing up.
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Bloody Whispers smiles toothily at the ifrits.
"Sure! You can count on me!"
During the performance, Bloody Whispers will stare uncomfortably at various people, and whisper extremely creepy statements:
"You know what? I think you would look better if your eyes were replaced with chunks of obsidian. They would glitter beautifully all of the time!"
"Have you considered using gemstone dentures? Then you would have a truly sparkling smile!"
He will even summon a Tooth Fairy (with Summon Fey) as part of his offer for unlicensed dentistry.
Putting together their various talents, the Pathfinders manage to really throw off Azam's feast, all without him ever catching sight of one of them doing it.
When Azam runs off to see about Beezhul's disturbance, Kelumur smoothly steals the oud left behind on the comfortable pillow.
Azam's absence from his tale-telling extends when he realizes that the audience for the Twisting Embers is anxiously backing away from the area. Bloody Whispers bringing out the Tooth Fairy was just the thing to spook them. Leshy and fey alike are gone by the time Azam stomps up to the stage area, where he shouts at them in frustration, "What are you doing, you idiots? Get off this stage!"
With a metallic click, the bracers that were holding these ifrits pop open and fall to the ground. Abina, the leader who Bloody Whispers briefly spoke to, laughs. "Our contract is broken." And, no longer bound, the ifrits leave the feast, the remaining people in the area around this stage melting away.
Fuming after having been tricked into chasing off his prized ifriti dancers, Azam returns to his stage area to find there's not much of a crowd waiting for him. During his absence, after all, Sabrael helped himself to the speaking position for a perfectly dull and abbreviated recitation of the tale, the kind of thing that would have been putting kids asleep in class for years.
And only then does he notice the missing oud! "Excuse me, my friends, it seems I have misplaced my oud. I must go and fetch my backup." Azam storms off once again.
That's when Brimly joins in with his own crowd-distracting performance, intriguing some people with his frying pan tips while repelling some others who don't really want to think about eating monster parts. It's a bit of a niche interest, but the ones who are interested are REALLY interested, more in Brimly than in getting the resumption of a two-hour long epic.
All the while, Xavier has found and been watching the chest where the gift is surely waiting to be given. With the patience of a thief who's done some jobs where he has to wait for just the right moment. He knows the moment has come when someone shouts, "There's Avisha's entourage!" The eyes turn from the chest towards the approaching dignitary, and that's when Xavier does it, poking into the chest to switch out Azam's carefully thought-out gift - an ornate dagger - with the toy soldier that was provided by Safa.
Not long after, Azam arrives with the Satrapian Guard officer in tow, speaking unctuously, "...and I just knew I had found the perfect gift for one of your station!" He opens the chest and presents its contents to the woman, Avisha, without even noticing what's in it.
Avisha, the high-ranking officer, plucks the toy soldier out of the chest. She stares at it for a moment, with Azam's eyes growing wide as he realizes something has gone wrong. "Your permit to host this event has been revoked. The party is over." Without accepting any protest, she leaves the area, and her subordinates set to making sure the party shuts down.
A stunned Azam stares at the toy soldier. "This could only have been... him! But how could he...?"
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Beezhul shakes dry violently, soaking the next pathfinder to post.
And rerobing, stows her weapons cleverly, and nods to Brimly.
"Yes. With two tasks done, we can talk her out of the third one. And free ourselves from Safa like those Ifreets from Azam" she shudders to think about their fates if they fail "Else end up like that toy soldier!"
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While they walk to their next destination, Brimly turns to Beezhul. "Ms. Kholo lady, I had a thought itchin' my brain since the start'a this. Why you care what happens to slavers an' their ship? They predators, preyin' on people all day. Sometimes in nature predator becomes prey.
"I say when we get done with this Overmarket we try an' convince the slavers to see reason, pick up a new profession. Otherwise," he shrugs, palms (and frying pans) upright to the sky, "Predator become prey."
With some back and forth continuing about thorny moral questions like whether it's wrong to fight some pirates if you're ultimately doing the bidding of an evil genie binder, the Pathfinders make themselves scarce from the park where Azam's now-scattered celebration was taking place and head towards the Overmarket.
The round plaza of the Overmarket is crowded but well kept. Long, curved stalls surround an imposing fountain in the middle of the market. On the eastern side of the plaza, an empty wooden auction platform stands as a grim reminder of the cruel practices that continue in the city. Sitting cross-legged nearby, a young girl displays a handmade sign proudly stating:
She jumps to her feet as she sees you approach and waves at you as she walks up to your group. "You look like you could use a little help finding your way around here," she declares. "Name's Melika, I know what everybody's selling today and where to find them. Hire me and we'll find everything you could ever want in the Overmarket!"
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While they walk to their next destination, Brimly turns to Beezhul. "Ms. Kholo lady, I had a thought itchin' my brain since the start'a this. Why you care what happens to slavers an' their ship? They predators, preyin' on people all day. Sometimes in nature predator becomes prey."I say when we get done with this Overmarket we try an' convince the slavers to see reason, pick up a new profession. Otherwise," he shrugs, palms (and frying pans) upright to the sky, "Predator become prey."
"So you don't mind a genie complaining about being bound to a master bossing you around? Making you do their dirty work? And their killing?" Beezhul spits "No thank you, sir. If you think all of those things are all right, well, what else can you be told to do?"
"Do not worry, my friends," says Sabrael. "I think we can accomplish Safa's goal of 'destroying' the ship and eliminating Zoha as a threat. And it will not require killing anyone," he adds, looking to Beezhul and nodding firmly.
"But for now, let us focus on getting these supplies that Safa's master has ordered them to gather."
She jumps to her feet as she sees you approach and waves at you as she walks up to your group. "You look like you could use a little help finding your way around here," she declares. "Name's Melika, I know what everybody's selling today and where to find them. Hire me and we'll find everything you could ever want in the Overmarket!"
"Hmm," muses Sabrael as he looks down at the youth and rubs his chin with an amused air, "I imagine your definition of 'everything' can be found as close as an alleyway two blocks from here, where we'll be surrounded by thugs and robbed of everything we own, which you'll get a cut of. Plus two coppers, of course."
"I ran a pretty similar dodge when I was a lad, in Jalmeray." He nods appreciatively at Melika. "The sign's a nice touch, though."
Sabrael fishes into his pocket and comes back with two silver coins. "How about we pay you two silver coins instead. Two copper pennies now, and two silver weights when we get everything we're after? Provided we skip the funny business, of course."
Anyone who looks closely - and who further is skilled in matters of currency collecting - sees that the silvers pinched between Sabrael's fingers are in fact “silver gates,” depicting an aiudara portal commemorating the return of elves to Golarion in 2632 AR.
They're unbelievably rare, and quite possibly worth more than their actual denomination.
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Beezhul responds conspiratorily to her smarter friend the elf "I am interested in hearing your plan. The sooner this genie's plot is finished, the sooner we become free again"
She explains to the little hireling that "Ok deal. We are looking for a brass stopper, a silver chain, and a cold iron container. Then we are looking for a man by the name of Raha Shul. You can help us with that?"
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Brimly busily digs in his ear with his index finger. "That's a lotta big words, Smart Elf-Man. That's why they call you Smart Elf-Man I 'spose."
Later, he looks at Melika, eyes almost level to someone finally, and says, "What Smart Elf-Man said. I ain't got money but I'll let you borrow some bloodsucker parts from my pack for a time if you want." He says the last part as if it's obviously a good trade.
Melika takes Sabrael's direct accusation of wanting to lead them into a trap in stride, laughing before replying, "What kind of a city do you think this is? That would be such a bad way to get repeat business."
Observing this girl, who appears to be about 12 years old, Xavier concludes that she seems to be what she presents herself to be, a street urchin of some kind who is boldly engaged in a very small-time entrepreneurial activity rather than being drawn into some kind of criminal element for the city.
The scamp's eyes do grow wide at the sight of Sabrael's silver. "I just knew this was going to be a great day," she says. Considering Beezhul's and Brimly's statements about the group's goals, she continues, "You're looking for Raha Shul, you said? Someone informed you well, if anyone's going to know more about the specialty items, that's where you'd want to go. And I can save you the trouble of having to wander this whole place having to ask for directions. Some of these people don't even speak Taldan!"
She defiantly hands a little paper to Sabrael, as if this will further answer any suspicions. It's a simple advertisement listing a number of merchants in the market and what kinds of things they sell. In addition to Raha Shul, whose shop "Dreams of Prada Haram" is advertised with "wisdom and potions from the astounding arcanist!" there are also listings for a mapmaker, metalworker, fabric seller, bookbinder (and storyteller!), gems and glassware, and tonics. It might have taken you a long time to track these things down on your own.
After a few minutes of walking, avoiding bumping into a crowd of pedestrians who don't seem to care how much space they're taking up, Melika leads you to the Dreams of Prada Haram shop. This is a colorful stall filled with pendants, potions, and the sweet scent of innumerable spices. Behind the counter, a dignified woman dressed in elegant Jalmeri fashion smiles and holds out her hands in a welcoming gesture. “I am Raha Shul, purveyor of mystic gifts for the wise. Or perhaps you seek a cure to what ails you?” She delivers a small bow.
The woman, Raha Shul, smiles as she notices Melika. "Ah, my little friend has brought me more business!" The girl beams proudly at being noticed and remembered. Raha Shul turns back to the Pathfinders. "Now, then, what may this humble merchant help you find?"