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Vera sipped from her tankard slowly, her gaze attentive as she digested both drink and Fraskia's explanation, the latter taking a few mental reiterations before she got the gist of it all. "Sounds mystical, though I think I get it. Usin' finger wagglin' to commune makes sense at the very least." She remarked, glancing in Aelestra's direction. "Communin' with the elements less so, but I s'pose that's magic for you."

She leaned back in her chair as she continued. "I'm assumin' there's more to it than just knowin' the motions, otherwise..." She paused to mimic Fraskia's demonstration, albeit clumsily, her fingers tracing awkward arcs in the air, "could I do it?"
 
"Books aren't clear about it." Fraskia shrugged "They say that the old dwarfs spoke to the elements in one page and the following they taught their entire village how to speak to water." The rune knight picked up her stein again. "I took me months of twisting my fingers like a pretzel to get a response for a spray of water or a spark to fly out. I can show you the basic, but I'm not proper tutor." She drank deeply from her ale. "Not yet at least." She gave Vera a smile "Tell you what. You come with me to castle Vrana after all this is finished and you can meet the old masters."
 
"I imagine that him dealing with such things would be a bit too much. Like using a boulder to crush a rat, from his perspective at least. Though we would be mice in that situation as well."

"Yeah! He seems the type to focus on the larger picture... I've always wanted to watch him in action, but I've never had the chance to." Levy responded, before taking another few gulps from her mug. However, her expression changed a bit when he asked his question afterwards.

"...what did you mean by used to have honour?"

Her eyes shifted to him for a moment, away from the mug in her hand. The happy expression she had before had faded. Eventually, she set her mug back down on the table. "...Morganthi draevir value honor in combat above all else. Mercenary work is far from honorable to the Morganthi... you're just being paid to kill. There's really no glory in it. No pride. Just money."

She paused for a moment, before lifting the mug back up to her lips. "However, its all I have. Its how I make a living as an exile. I can't go home."

After she took a few more gulps, she spoke again. "The Guardian gives me strong people and creatures to fight... and it gives me a sort of rush. I can go toe to toe with heavily armored foes, towering monsters, and other weird beasties. Things that others lack the will to, or the power to. I can fight these things, and come out on top. The sense of glory in that kind of combat, and the pride I feel when I'm victorious... it makes me feel like I used to. Its... honestly a fairly simple line of thought. It makes me happy, though."
 
"It makes me happy, though."
"It's all any of us who make their living on the road can hope for." Arnas said, raising his tankard. "To happiness and good travels."

"I'll drink to that!" Ornam shouted, breaking his focus from listening to the conversation he had prior. Not that he needed an excuse in the first place, but it made it all the more socially acceptable to drown yet another tankard into his gullet. Normally, the amount of alcohol would have already had an effect on a grown man but dwarves were legendary for their drinking habits. It seemed that the ranger was no exception to this as he let out a heavy burp afterwards before returning his attention to Reece. On mention of his clerical magic being like paint, he nodded eagerly: "Makes sense to me... magic is like an art, if ye think about it."

He then brought his hands up and made random gestures: "Especially the Guardian... he definitely makes it look like an art. The way he moves his hands an' all." He tried to get the essence of what he was talking about across, though chuckled at his meaningless movements and returned to his drink. "Couldn't be me. Not a drop of aether in me."

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Terrence laughed and smiled along with each of the party member’s tales, sipping happily from his tankard as he enjoyed the pleasant atmosphere. A small twinge of longing pinged within him as he was reminded of his family, furthermore his mother's cooking. He let the thoughts slip away from him, electing to focus on the present.

He watched the bartender bring over the drink he'd requested for Aelestra, catching a whiff of the sweet drink as it passed by him. “Ah, that is quite the rich scent. How is it?” Terrence brought his hands up to sign to her, ‘Certainly better than this swill I imagine.’ He chuckled to himself, his own beverage wasn't bad persay, but not nearly as satisfying as his drink of choice.

"Couldn't be me. Not a drop of aether in me."

Terrence spoke up, “Oh, I would not let that stop you. I learned from a book how to channel the energy from the world around you, like the shamans from the Thunder Plains do. Although, perhaps finding a master to teach you, like Miss Mountcrasher was saying, would be the best course of action.” He let out a loud laugh, bringing a finger up to tap his eye patch. “Lest you end up short a few pieces.”
 
Oh, I would not let that stop you. I learned from a book how to channel the energy from the world around you, like the shamans from the Thunder Plains do. Although, perhaps finding a master to teach you, like Miss Mountcrasher was saying, would be the best course of action.”
"Ah, but I *literally* don't have a drop of aether in me lad!" Ornam restated with much the same jubilation as before, though hidden behind his jovial drinking persona Terrence could detect only the slightest bit of jealousy towards his capabilities. "The great many are born without that capability. A lucky few, like you, can channel with a guide like a tome as you said. And an extremely rare few need no help at all. Like the Guardian... and even then he is a one in gods knows how many chance."

"Guess we share that in common." Arnas commented, taking a sip from his own drink. "I'm not the type to throw around spells of anything... tried reading some scrolls back home and spent hours. Didn't even get a spark out of my fingers." Recounting such a memory made Arnas briefly melancholic for a moment, given that the realm of magic was beyond his grasp like the vast majority of people. "Would be nice to throw some fire at people every once in a while, like Agathe or..." His voice then trailed off momentarily before shaking his head.

"Gah, that's enough drinking we should probably get to doing what we were sent here for." he then said, "Ornam, do you know where we can find a Gerwin?"

The dwarf's face dropped with a frown on the name's mention: "Oh. Him. Figures the Guardian would drag him out of his current muck-hole."

"You know him?"

"Mhm..." Ornam took another sip of his drink, "Know is a light term. He ferried me across to Argos before for my previous expeditions."

"Sounds like you're not particularly fond of him." Arnas noted aloud, which made the ranger chuckle.

"He's a hard drinker, and a foul mouthed bastard. And he's currently sleeping in ram shit." Ornam responded, before standing up. "Come now, I'll take ya to him."

For the group, the trip was quite literally a few meters away at the back of the establishment where the stables were. The smell of hay and poop filled everyone's nostrils as there were two horses hitched at the far end of the stables. But there was also a highlands ram that stood with a bundle of straw in his mouth being chewed on.

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"This here is Boulder, my trusted travelling companion." Ornam announced proudly as he patted the beast on its back and ruffled its fur, getting a loud bleat as a response. The dwarf then pointed down onto the ground below towards a bundle of clothing and brown fur, an Utterlin passed out from his booze consumption as the stench of alcohol mixed with the poop he was lying in as an unsightly concoction. "And that's be our fearless captain."

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Reece watched as folk began to stand. He appreciated the understanding of few regarding his magic. So far there has been no great reaction to his order. He figured that this might just be a rather fun journey. Another one to add to his memoires when he got to writing them, he supposed. It brought a smile to his face, but not much doesn't bring him joy.

He looked to Edoardo as the group began to funnel out of the tavern, following their dwarven companion.

"I have plenty of questions about the marshlands. I've visited before, but I think that I may have been less than welcome at the time, so I was never able to learn much. I'll be sure to ask you plenty of questions as we go. All the ones that I was never able to ask before. I hope you don't mind."

Reece chuckles good-naturedly. If there was one thing about himself that got on some peoples nerves, it was a lack of reserve when it came to bothering people in order to learn more about them. In fact, he couldn't help but look around at all of his new companions. He could feel his magic well up from within himself, eager to be cast and act as a boon for these new friends.

A hand rises and clutches around the necklace looped around his neck. It was odd. A focus for his magic perhaps. It's glass. A small bottle of sorts etched with strange markings. The inside had nothing within, but something suggested that wasn't always the case.

Following the groups outside, he saw the first thing so far that... didn't put a smile on his face. The Utterlin in a drunken state lying in the dung of the stable animals. Reece, didn't bother with hiding his distaste. He unrolled one of the sleeves of his shirt and places the fabric over his nose.

"He is alive, yes?"

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Aelestra offered the barkeep a slight nod in appreciation as she was given her requested drink. She stared down at the cup for a moment, the sweet smell reaching her nose. Taking a sip, she showed no visible reaction to the taste but it was better than alcohol, that's for sure. The monk looked over at Terrence, offering him a shrug to summarize her opinion towards the beverage. She wasn't going to put in the effort to complain about goat milk.

At the mention of Gerwin, Aelestra turned her gaze towards Ornam who seemed bothered by the very existence of the person Arnas asked about. She took another sip of her drink before standing up from her seat, following the rest of the group to go meet Gerwin.

Circling around to the back of the building, the smell of the stables earned a minor reaction from the monk — the slight wrinkle of her nose in disgust. Aelestra looked between the ram and the passed out Utterlin, a bit unsure if this man was really the trusted ally that the Guardian recommended. Rather than express her interest in the drunkard, she turned her attention back to Boulder and held out a palm for the beast to sniff.
 
"Caste Vrana, huh?" Vera mused aloud. The remaining dregs of her drink were swirled in thought, and, with sharp tilt of her head, she downed the last of her tankard and smirked. "Y'know, I might just take you up on that offer."

The conversation shifted as Ornam mentioned Gerwin, and Vera soon found herself following the rest of the group toward the rear of the building. The sudden shift in smell from the tavern's warmth to stables' stench caused her to stomach to sour. By the gods, she could almost taste the air. In response, she clamped a hand over the lower half of her face to ward against the pungent assault.

"It's almost impressive, soundly sleepin' in a sty like a babe in a bundle." She muttered dryly, eyeing the drunken Utterlin skeptically.
 
"I suppose we should rouse him from his sleep." Fraskia looked around and as luck would have it, there was a bucket filled with water nearby. Probably brought in by a stable hand for the animals to drink or to be washed with. They'd have to forgive her for what she was about to do. Fate of the world was at stake after all. She picked up the bucket of water and with very little regard for the well being of the Utterling, she poured its contents all over the captain.
 
Boulder accepted Aelestra's offer of friendship as he snorted onto her hand before licking, leaving a trail of slimy saliva onto her palm as he returned to eating grass. "I see he likes ye." Ornam stated with a chuckle, "Though, to be honest, he likes everyone. Doesn't have a shred of violence to anyone." The ram let out a bleat, as if to respond to the dwarf's statement, which then made Ornam laugh again. "Sometimes wonder if he can actually understand me."

"He is alive, yes?"
"He better be." Arnas stated, crossing his arms. "We need to get across the sea and past the elvish patrols, which smugglers would most certainly be able to."

"He's *alive*, certainly, but is he **alive**?" Ornam then joked, motioning to what the Utterlin was sleeping in. "Wouldn't call sleeping in shite to be exactly *living* in that other sense now would we?"
"It's almost impressive, soundly sleepin' in a sty like a babe in a bundle."
"Aye." A blunt response from the dwarf, until he noticed Fraskia gather a bucket of water from nearby. "I wouldn't-"

A splash cascaded down onto the sailor as he jolted awake from the icy cold water, sputtering as flies, shit, and straw was swept away from his attire. Getting upwards onto his feet, yelling and cussing incoherently, he shouted as he gathered his bearings and found himself surrounded by a fairly large group of strangers. "Mitä vittua!?" Gerwin yelled aloud, "I was 'avin a grand ol' sleep 'til ye show up! Did ye 'ave ta do that!? ...what are ye doing 'ere 'ways!? Now I shiver in me boots like a wet doshtar! Paholaisen huoran paskiaiset..."

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Terrence got up and moved along with everyone else as Ornam begrudgingly guided them to their to-be captain. The orc quickly pulled out his own handkerchief shortly after Reece and Vera had covered their own noses, the smell of stables was never a favorite of his. He was shocked to say the least to find their “captain” completely lights out in the filth. Terrence crossed his arms and nodded in agreement with Fraskia’s comment, “A bit early in the night to be diving in dung, is it not?”
 
"We need a captain who's awake and you we're asleep." Fraskia tossed the bucked aside "And you needed a bath. Simple as."
“A bit early in the night to be diving in dung, is it not?”
Gerwin was about to angrily retort at Fraskia as he sputtered some water out of his mouth, but the comment from Terrence quickly changed the subject and in turn made visible confusion wash across his visage as he blinked twice. He leaned slightly to get a better look behind the crowd surrounding him and saw that it was, indeed, a new day by this point. "Pfah... 'tis 'morn?" he asked aloud, though needed no answer as he grabbed at his forehead in pain. It was obvious that he was dealing with the consequences of his heavy drinking as he stumbled in place before sputtering again. "Why ye be wakin' me?"

"As we said, we need a captain to take us to Argos. The Guardian sent us." Arnas explained, holding out the talisman as proof of their employ which caused the Utterlin's eyes to widen first out of surprise and then narrow out of anger.

"Ta bastard has ta nerve, paskaa..."
he practically hissed out. Arnas was slightly taken aback by this hostility, as it meant that there was some unresolved history between the two that led to such sentiments in the first place. But there was a time later to ask about such things as the Utterlin then let out a sigh. "Need a drink 'fore I listen-" Another splash of water hit the Utterlin, causing him to jump back in surprise as he sputtered out again before glaring at Arnas - who was holding a second bucket - with as much anger as his smaller stature could hold. "VITTU! WHY!?"

"For the smell. Just in case."

Gerwin, recognizing in what he had been sleeping in, found it hard to argue as he looked down at his feet before nodding wordlessly in spite of the anger gripping his tongue. Soon thereafter, he trodded back into the tavern - a trail of water dripping from his clothes - and sat down with the rest of the group as he clutched at his head with one hand and waved with the other to the barkeep. As if by instinct, the man brought him over a tankard of mead which made Arnas visibly guffaw. He had just been lying in goat shit and was already back on the drink! "...do you really need to be drinking right now?" the young mercenary asked, which made the Utterlin chuckle.

"Ta mead ain't no strong drink. It help me wake ma mind. Take a lot more ta make me sleep." the captain spoke before taking a swig of the golden liquor. "Ta problem ye be 'avin be that... I can't leave ta city."

"Why not?" Ornam chimed in, furrowing his brow.

"Three things: first, I lost me license ta leave port. Confiscated by authorities... I need it back. Ye gotta get if fer me. Ta permit holder - Lanya - be in ta customs house near ta port. Can't go through ta door if they know it be me sending ye, so ye gotta sneak in. And..." he then pulls out a small envelope from his inner coat pocket and sets it in front of him. "I need a message given ta her... next I need me money from a lowlife by ta name of Kiri. He be owin' me and not paying."

"What's the money for?" Arnas asked, crossing his arms.

"Need ta bribe if we come across a patrol boat. Now... me final thing... need me a bottle o' sea-brine."

"I fuckin' knew it." Ornam said with exasperation, throwing his arms up in the air. "Damn alcoholic."

"It fer good luck! Drive away ta naga and raiders!" Gerwin protesting, pointing a clawed digit towards the dwarf. "Ye land lovers ain't understanding. I ain't sailing without it."

Arnas exchange a glance with Ornam, who was visibly upset with the prospect of giving an alcoholic even stronger booze in his hands, but ultimately relented as he sighed and nodded. "Alright. It'll be faster if we split up then, tackle all three at once. I'll head for the custom's house. If we're breaking in, then I only need another person to watch my back." Arnas said, taking the letter and stashing it into a pouch on his belt.

Ornam rolled his eyes, "I'll go after this Kiri. Sounds like the type to have muscle with him so I'll need some help."

"Don't ferget ta sea-brine!"

"Yes... some people will have to go to get that. Where do we get that exactly."

"There be a tunnel leading to ta sewers off ta east harbour, can't miss it. They be thar."

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The thought of having to go into the sewer made Reece's skin crawl. If it wasn't already obvious from his reaction to Gerwin's choice of resting place and the smell, he has an aversion to filth and refuse. He already felt his stomach churn with the idea of wading through muck below the streets. He would rather get into a fight with thugs or even steal from local authorities if he had to, and he was ready to state as much to this crew, even if it made them look poorly upon him.

"I would do anything to avoid having to go into those sewers. Perhaps helping with Kiri might be best? If we find trouble, I can use a bit of magic to mend injuries."

It was his most reasonable suggestion that he could make in this moment and he hoped that others would agree, but he understood if they had their own way of doing things. He was simply praying to Tereila that he would not have to go into those darned sewers or, if he did, that there were walkways to avoid any mess. He didn't know, because he avoided those areas like the plague. Another risk, in fact, but that's just being paranoid.

He leaned against a wall nearby, catching his breath after the stench lessened. He had his reasons for hating filth, of course. He's seen his own share of magical maladies spread through vile means during his time as a cleric. He wanted little to do with such things nor did he want any of these good people to suffer such a curse. If only he had the strength to cleanse such potent spells or sicknesses from the body. Not quite yet though.

He turns to look at the group, wondering how they would separate things. He wondered if they would decide that he better suited to another task.
 
Levy shrugged. "I can help out with Kiri too." she soon states. Muscle was muscle. She was muscle, and if Kiri had muscle with them, she could outmuscle 'em... or something. "A fight would be pretty fun, honestly. Hits don't hurt as much when you're drunk." she adds. She then looks to Reece and gives him a thumb's-up and a grin.
 
Edoardo Vargas Melcher

Edoardo half-turned, shooting a discerning towards the Utterlin, the stink of the animal pen wafted heavily around them. Edoardo wondered whether this was truly necessary, the importance of his prerequisites seemed dubious. The priest crossed his arms against his chest, considering his answer. Then his amber eyes went up, head turning as Reece issued his willingness, Edoardo nodded only once. "Procuring this sea-brine shall be my duty then." Edoardo's voice rasped, a brief hint of discontent tinged his words. He suppressed the feeling. It was ill-needed for one such as he and the task laid onto them by the Guardian.

It was not the prospect of trudging through fetid refuse and decayed waste of the sewage system that grinded on the priest's nerves, but the diversion these errands created. However, again, his tutelage a stark reminder — he is a servant, not just of his Gods, but to the people of these lands. And if seeing these tasks to fruition is required, he will see it done.
 
"The sewers sound fine with me.” Terrence said, listening as everyone else decided upon how they were going to split up. The sewers in fact did not sound fine to him, but the orc figured if something were to go wrong at the custom house, or the shakedown, the likelihood that him being there would possibly bear negative consequences on trade for his business was too high for him to try the gamble. In truth, Terrence likely could have just solved the two problems himself through the proper legal channels, had he the foresight to pack a few extra bullion’s worth of coins. Alas, with his current possessions that was not an option. Maybe he could take out a favor on his Family's name, but with the uncertainty of the power it would hold this far north, that left him with the sewers.
 
Fraskia squeezed the bridge of her nose as the captain of their vessel listed off the things he needed. Of course he would need more booze and of course he would have money troubles. She didn't even want to consider heading down to the sewers on account of this furry idiot. That left only two other options for her, either go rough up a lowlife or help with a break-in into the customs house. Breaking someone's shinbones sounded easy enough, even if they were with muscle, but their new large friend had already volunteered her services to pummel the daylight out of someone. She looked like she could cover the job for three people.

"I'm going with Arnass in the customs house then." She looked to the young mercenary "I can watch your back. Maybe even cause a distraction if needed."
 
Vera would join Reece and Ornam in dealing with the Kiri problem, making her position clear by standing with the duo while Aelestra would then take her place with Edoardo and Terrence in acquiring Gerwin's much needed sea-brine. Arnas nodded to everyone else as they coalesced: "Alright, that makes three groups then. Say we meet back here by sundown?" he asked, noting Ornam's approval with the timeframe.

"Gives us plenty o' time to get our bearings and our jobs done." the dwarf said with approval as he took a puff from his pipe.

"Time's a wastin' longshanks! ...also, almost fergot ta mention, Kiri be in da Gutters." Gerwin then shouted from the table, swirling a cup of booze.

Arnas could only sigh as he turned his attention to the door: "Alright, I suppose we ought to get to it then."

The Customs House - Gwell

The group went about their separate ways for their respective tasks, pathing themselves in differing directions based on both directions known and given as well as general intuition. For Arnas and Fraskia, the two could see a large building on a higher district of the city that was both walled off and held a certain prestige based on its appearance; its exterior was intricately constructed with careful artisanship put into the stone and decorative statues that lined the top-corners of the building's roof. There was also its proximity to the harbour itself, as a large wooden elevator - manned by an extensive guard presence - helped new arrivals to quickly get from here to there and meet with city officials for transporting goods. As the two walked, Arnas made not of this and scoffed: "We're not making use of that elevator. Would be too easy otherwise." he commented, making note of how well armed the city militia was here.

"The city guard here are well stocked. Wonder how much money flows to them from all the dues and taxes that are levied on ships and traders that pass through here? It almost seems like we're in the midst of a royal army rather than a municipal force." He then clicked his tongue and looked to Fraskia: "And speaking of, we ought to talk about our plan at the customs house... I'd like to avoid a fight if we could. Especially since it's just the two of us. But I imagine that Gerwin's name alone is enough to deny us entry as to our business there."

Arnas looked around for a moment, gathering his bearings, before looking back to the rune-knight: "Any thoughts?"

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The Gutters - Gwell
With some help from locals pointing the way, the group coming after Kiri's dues found themselves in a different part of the city that was noticeably more run-down and crawling with vagrants and lowlifes of various kinds. It was the collection pond of all the rejects and refuse of various trade routes and of the region itself, leading it to be sparsely patrolled - if at all - by the city guard. From what Reece, Vera, Levy and Ornam could tell it was the various gangs that kept some semblance of peace here - despite the constant fighting between them - and in turn prevented the district from going up in flames at any given moment.

"We ought ta keep our noses clean of any funny business here." Ornam said, looking around as they walked through the destitution before them. While most people went about their business, there were plenty of eyes fixed on the outsiders from behind closed doors and shutters. "Problem is... either we go 'round turning stones and causing a fuss looking for this Kiri or we need ta ask for help from one of the gangs willing to talk to us. Which means doing a favor for them."

He then looked to his three companions and sighed: "Neither option is good."

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The Sewers - Gwell
For Edoardo, Terrence, and Aelestra, the path to their destination was much more direct to where they started from as it was a straight shot from the tavern to the harbour's edge. And soon thereafter appeared the sewers entrance, where a steady stream of dirtied and foul water flowed out into the bay. And while most of their surroundings were a matter of disgust, along with the walls being caked in mosses and algaes, there was fortunately a pathway to walk on carved into the stone on the side that would allow them to avoid walking through muck, grime, and filth - at least, for now.

But the trio had only taken a few steps inside when they heard a voice from the murky darkness deeper inside: "Not a lot of folk come here without good reason, yes, yes?"

The voice held a shrill edge to it, yet the words flowed smoothly like paint on a canvas as if to compensate for such vocal inadequacies. A small pattering of footsteps then revealed a figure of small stature, bearings various trinkets and what was likely stolen goods across its body. It was a kobold, who in turn was observing the newcomers with eyes that trailed with suspicion towards all of them. "I be Janna, purvey of goods. You come to buy? Trade? Sell? Speak fast or leave."

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As the group disperses into the three teams, Reece takes a moment to wave to the others as they go to take care of their respective tasks.

"Good luck you all! Be safe!"

He especially hoped for Edoardo, Terrence and Aelestra’s safety. With luck they will not have to encounter anything icky or tread too far into the muck down below. He couldn't help but feel relieved that he wouldn't be joining them though. The guilt for that thought alone made his stomach twist.

"I'm a bad person," he quietly mumbles to himself, although he didn't let the thought bring him down for much longer.

Once they were on their way to the place called "The Gutter," he was more anxious about what that meant. Was he avoiding the sewers just to get into another mess? Thankfully that was not the case. Well, not entirely. The Gutter was the slums of Gwell more or less. Although slums tended to be the greatest producer of plagues and viral sicknesses due to unhygienic living conditions, Reece's excitement for meeting people countered his aversion to filth.

He has also spent much time in the slums of different cities that he has visited. A healer does not reserve their talents for the middle and upper classes, let alone a cleric. Reece goes wherever he is needed. In this case, he hoped that his abilities would not be needed unless it was a matter that was completely coincidental.

"Perhaps if we approach with a gift? A bit of good will might go a long way. It's not as if we want to hurt this Kiri. That, or we find someone else who knows people around here."

He proposes his idea, and it might be hard to see him as anything but a naive elf in a big old world. Still, it was an option, whether it’s taken or not.
 
With their tasks and forces divided, Terrence turned with a nod, heading to the sewers with Edoardo and Aelestra. The short journey there was simple enough, it wasn't hard to find based on the smell alone. Terrence pulled out his handkerchief again holding it up to his face, “It seems at every turn, I am reminded how ill prepared I was when accepting this quest.” He shook his head after looking at the refuse pouring out into the port, making his way carefully into the sewer.

When the kobold appeared before them, Terrence sighed with relief, ‘Perhaps this will be easier than I thought…’ He held up a hand in greeting to the kobold. “Aye, a reason we have, I am not one to judge if it is good or not. We are here to buy, or trade, specifically for sea-brine. I was led to believe we might find a vendor for it here.” He gestured vaguely to the sewer with his free hand. “Perhaps you might have some?”

Aelestra turned her head to look at Terrence. There was a subtle twinge of an eyebrow in reaction to his words. ‘What do we have to trade?’ She signed.

‘Plenty, like information.’ Terrence signed back quickly, to return his attention to Janna. “You will have to excuse my friend here, she is hard of speaking… and hearing. She was just asking what you had said.” He lied, not wanting to needlessly reveal too much to the shady merchant.

Looking between Janna and Terrence, she quickly signed back, ‘I hear just fine.’

Terrence responded with a simple nod and an apologetic look.
 
Danger and desperation lurked around every corner in the Gutters of Gwell. To Vera, stepping into such deplorable surroundings were like being reunited with an old acquaintance, if said acquaintance reeked of filth and was liable to plunge a dagger in her back. So, pretty much indistinguishable from her past acquaintances.

She moved with a relaxed stride, arms comfortably at her sides and hand off its usual resting place on her sword's pommel. Blending in wasn't an option when traveling with such a colorful group, so she figured presenting herself with confidence was the next best course.

"Aye. Findin' a rat could work. Places like these are bound to be swarmin' with folks who got their ear to the ground and their hand out for coin." She said in reply to Reece's proposal. "Not so keen on approachin' with a gift right out the gate, though. Showin' our hand before even exchangin' a hello makes us look desperate—not to mention paints us as marks with stuff worth stealin'."

She cast a furtive glance around, taking in every alley and shadowy corner before turning her attention to the dwarf. "Oi. Ornam, right? You familiar with the groups 'round these parts? Like to know whose shoes we might be steppin' on here."
 
"Which means doing a favor for them."

"Ah, favors. Bit of a nasty business that'd be, with gangs involved." responded Levy. She scratched her neck, looking about. Slums didn't vary all that much between cities. Poor and downtrodden, gangs, dilapidated buildings and houses, rats, disease, and so on. Levy herself had lived in a slum at one point. Bed bugs aren't fun to deal with.

Eventually, she looked to Reece and Vera as they spoke.

"Perhaps if we approach with a gift? A bit of good will might go a long way. It's not as if we want to hurt this Kiri. That, or we find someone else who knows people around here."
"Aye. Findin' a rat could work. Places like these are bound to be swarmin' with folks who got their ear to the ground and their hand out for coin. Not so keen on approachin' with a gift right out the gate, though. Showin' our hand before even exchangin' a hello makes us look desperate—not to mention paints us as marks with stuff worth stealin'."

"Yeah. We find the rat, get the lowdown, then do whatever we gotta do." stated Levy, "Crack some skulls if anyone gets a bit prickly about things."
 
"He can't be popular with anyone save for the barkeeps and stable boys." Fraskia shrugged. "So we can't really on his good name and reputation to get us far." She looked at the guards for a few seconds. "No way should we engage in a fight with them, not on his account." The rune knight started to ponder on what to do. "I wonder if we could just...buy it off of them? But maybe he's too much of a headache for them that the price would be steep. Perhaps deception would be our option, but what story would work?"

"Debt collectors for our furry friend? Surely he owes people money and his valuables would be collateral."
 

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