Tollard pays the man and heads back to the table where Four Fingers is sitting.
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Tollard nods to Alyse and makes his way to the bar. He attempts to get the attention of the barkeep to order three Clockwork Ambers.
Tollard looks to Alyse. ”I can get this” he offers, with a meaningful looks suggesting Alyse stay with their guest. He wanders up to the bar and attempts to get the barkeep’s attention.
Tollard leads onward toward the tavern with Alyse and Four Fingers in tow. He says little as he keeps his eyes open and alert for ambushers and cutpurses. Or as wide-eyed and alert as a mostly blind halfling could be.
"The Ink Spot isn't far," Tollard offers. "You'll get a drink for your trouble." He indicates the direction of the pub.
"Sure we're buying," Alyse answers quickly. "Let's go - somewhere nice." She waits to ensure that Four Fingers is going to come with them, then hurries him back out of this slum."Hey Four-Finger, want to come have a drink with us?" Alyse asks.
"Sure we're buying," Alyse answers quickly. "Let's go - somewhere nice." She waits to ensure that Four Fingers is going to come with them, then hurries him back out of this slum."Hey Four-Finger, want to come have a drink with us?" Alyse asks. Tollard appreciates where Alyse is headed, and has become keenly aware of the attention they are attracting.
"Seems a bit odd; hardheads usually can't be bothered. Was they lookin' for something?"
"Group of hardheads raiding a bookseller. Kinda thing that stands out." He eyes up Four Fingers to get a sense of his angle.
"Heard you might've seen something. Just looking for an account is all." Tollard tries to seem as nonthreatening as possible. He roughly describes the location of Penska's place. "Heard there was a dust-up. Just lookin' for folks what might've seen it."
Tollard sizes up the one identifying himself as Four Fingers. Without a word, he hands the other two coins to his guide. "Quick bit o' talk is all," Tollard says to Four Fingers. He glances about at the crowd. "You the one they call Four Fingers?"
Tollard looks warily at the ragged personage. He hands over two of the gold coins. "Other two when we get there," he promises. "Lead on"
Tollard sizes up the volunteer to assess whether they actually know anything or if their just going to spin a tale for the coin. Although his eyes are dimmed, the oracle senses much.
"Right. I suppose none of you cutters could use this here jink, then?" Tollard rattles four gold pieces in his hand.
Tollard approaches the group casually, careful not to make any sudden moves or cause alarm. "Oy, I grew up not far herebouts," he says, allowing his accent to revert to its original state. He had made a conscious effort to suppress his native manner of speaking, but found that it came back quickly when called upon. "We two is just lookin' fer a man. Folks call him Four Fingers. Just lookin' to palaver a bit, but we's lookin' fer him just the same. A pair of silvers fer the trouble o' the cutter what's got the jink on his whereabouts."
Once they are out of Penska's hearing, Alyse whispers to Tollard, "What do you think? Should we go and try to find this Four Fingers ourselves, or just pass the chant on to Nye?" "I say he's worth checking out," Tollard whispers back. "I think that's what an investigator is supposed to do."
Tollard looks to Penska. "You ever had a problem with hardheads in this establishment before?"
Tollard appraises the two young Xaositects. "Thank you, sir," he says simply to the bookseller. "Do take a seat," he offers, headless of whether there are any decent seats to be had. His cloudy eyes look distant and mysterious, but he paints a smile on his lips. "We are friends. And we want to know exactly what occurred."
Tollard also peers about the tunnels, trying to make sense of this place.
He also takes a look at the contraption in the center of the room. "You can tell a lot about a cutter if you know what he reads." He tries to see what it has been printing of late.
While Alyse greets the bookseller, Tollard observes the shelves and stacks, looking for a sense of the sort of books this vendor keeps in stock.
"Bad for me?" Tollard repeats. "That was fantastic. I mean, it would be bad if I came back to live in the Hive, but that would be bad for all sorts of reasons." He watches Gurron scurry away with some amusement.
Even beyond the distance he can see, Tollard finds the voice unmistakable. "Seems the Hive has done nothing about its vermin problem," he mutters to Alyse. Instinctively, he assesses his surroundings - likely allies, likely foes, escape routes, hiding places. He has to remind himself he is not a child anymore, although in truth it was not so long ago. The wise move would be to defuse the situation and move on, but Tollard is not feeling wise. "Oh, this is your turf? I assure you I will not prostitute myself here if you have a monopoly on that practice." He decides this line is amusing, regardless of whether it goes over Gurron's head.
"A slaad bookseller? That sounds even more unlikely than the library I help out at. Speaking of which, if I'll be occupied tomorrow as well, I may have to get word to Qurdar." Tollard awaits Nye's response regarding the names. He wants to have as much information as possible before chasing shadows in the Hive.
"I am... familiar with the Hive," Tollard says with some hesitation. "A great many souls call it home, for lack of any alternative. It puts things into perspective." He takes on a faraway look as a great many memories flood his consciousness.
Tollard is about to reach for the pad, when he sees Shade settle down with it. He instead perches awkwardly on a pew with his hands in his lap, assuming only one person needs to take minutes of this exchange.
Tollard approaches Nye and Alyse with a friendly nod. "That sounds like work I would be up for,"[b] he says to Nye's offer. [b]"And I've seen how justice works in this place. Maybe a little anarchy is just what Sigil needs." He grins a bit at this.
Late into the night, Tollard cannot resist relating to his friend Kemmen all of the interesting exploits of the day. Truly, he had an adventure that required him to research something in a library. How often does that happen? He struggles to find sleep, but when it finally catches up with him, it is a restless, fitful sleep. All of the talk of shadows, and the mysterious city of Leng, seems to wake something within his subconscious. A dark, writhing form haunts his vision and seems to reach for him from beyond the veil. He awakes trembling in a cold sweat and struggles to rest for the remainder of the time. He awakes weary and subdued, rather than excited, but soon regains his bearing and some interest in what the day brings. He eats quickly and strikes out early to meet Nye at the appointed time at the Dusty Wig.
"Yeah, I've got a bed at St. Cuthbert's, and it's definitely calling me. Until tomorrow, then." Tollard goes to turn in for the night.
Tollard nods in agreement with Alyse. "It's worth seeing what Nye has in mind. And maybe you're right. Some of those primes are so lost, they're eager for any information they can get." He looks ruefully at Calita, concerned he might have touched a nerve.
Tollard considers the text for a moment. "If you want me to go to Leng with you, I'm out," he says to Alyse dryly. "Anyway, this tells us a bit about what they're looking for, but only rumors on how to find it. I'm not sure this is the sort of dark anyone would pay good jink for."
"Well isn't this a delightfully well-educated band of urchins?" Tollard muses wryly. "Let's see what we have."
Tollard looks appreciatively at Alyse's selection. "I'm afraid I never took up Abyssal. Frankly, I've always been a little surprised they came up with a written language at all. We may need a translator." He looks at the volume he selected, "This one is in multiple languages. Common and elven, easily enough, and a runic script. Perhaps Draconic. If the common and elven material are the same, then we are just looking at translations, but if they are different we may be missing parts of the text until we can translate the runes. Unless... you speak draconic..." He arches an eyebrow at Alyse.
"The catalogue is elaborate, but logical if you know where to look," Tollard says with some confidence.
As they wander through the stacks, Tollard remarks, "O.L.L.I.'s directions were very specific, and yet just vague enough at the same time. I am wondering whether my paces are average..."
More inured to the sights of Sigil, Tollard seems relatively unfazed by the guard's appearance. As they walk away, he mutters idly, "I wonder how he'd feel about Qurdar taking books into his bathtub..." When they see the modron librarian, he nods at Alyse. "I've never made small talk with a modron. Do you talk about geometry with them or something? I suppose we shall find out."
Alyse blushes. “Oh … it’s that sort of library. Well, yes, that’s probably not much help. So what about this other library you mention – sounds like it might have the dark on what we’re looking for?” Tollard hesitates before answering. "I should not have even brought it up. The danger is too great; some places threaten more than merely one's life." He has a haunted look about him as he goes on. "How important is this knowledge they seek?"
Tollard grins at Alyse. "Unless the blackest thorn is a euphemism for some demon's naughty bits, I don't think Qurdar's library would be of much use. I did see a library once though that had... Dark volumes..." Tollard trails off, staring into the distance with a blank expression, as he wrestles with unwanted images floating through his clouded vision.
Tollard has followed along, looking about idly. "I can be persuaded," Tollard says in response to Alyse's invitation. "I'm not expected at the library today. Hopefully Master Qurdar is keeping his books out of the baths." "Who is this Shadow anyway? Old friend of yours?"
As they walk, Tollard says, "It may be worth seeing what kind of work he has in mind. He did right by Calita. I always keep a cloudy eye open for a useful ally. They are hard to come by. Also, there's the money to think of." Once they arrive in the alchemist's shop, he regards the wares with interest. He has always been fascinated with the arcane ways of the alchemists.
"Shh," Tollard says to Nye conspiratorially. "Ixnay on the Ahamutbay..." He goes on, "When I'm not attending to divine duties or providing legal aid referrals, I am a library assistant for a private collection. It's a new gig, so we will have to see what comes of it. So you may have just secured a favor from a part-time librarian, for what that's worth."
Tollard merely picks at the bar food before they depart. He is clearly nervous about where they are going. He follows along to the prison, his muscles tense with anxiety. Why am I doing this again? My experiences with these sorts of places have not generally been positive. As they meet with the floating skull, Tollard stands rigidly behind Nye. When the skull asks for information about the prisoners, Tollard looks expectantly at Calita. When no answer is forthcoming, he becomes more nervous. Why isn't she saying anything? Who else is going to describe her friends? He wonders if she has been intimidated by the dour prison setting, and tries to nudge her along. "Calita," he whispers without subtlety, "that is your cue. Names and descriptions of your friends." He conveys this with some urgency; he has never known a floating skull that likes to be kept waiting.
"Thank you, Mister Nye. Your name rather trips off the tongue as well if I may say so." Tollard goes on, "So my friend Calita here is recently arrived in Sigil - unwillingly as I understand it. Two of her friends were with her before she found herself here and now, it seems, one or both of them are confined to the Prison. They've scarcely had enough time to cause any real trouble, but no doubt, given their recently arrived state, had no means to obtain any counsel. I believe we need to determine why they've been imprisoned and if such can be appealed."
"Not that I know of, but perhaps this shall be a revealing day for both of us," Tollard says enigmatically. "My acquaintance here knows someone who may be in need of your professional aid." He glances to Calita and Alyse to approach. "Tollard Grimm," the halfling says by way of introduction. "And our other friend here is Calita."
"Not that I know of, but perhaps this shall be a revealing day for both of us," Tollard says enigmatically. "My acquaintance here knows someone who may be in need of your professional aid." He glances to Calita and Alyse to approach.
"Not in person. He matches the description, though," Tollard says softly. He approached the table where the strange man is seated. "Excuse me, sir. Are you Mister Nye?"
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