En Route To Ribcage

[*Mander]

"...A good place to start, aye. Maybe that vendor will know where we can hire a guide, or at the least where iron mongers abide." Ganatog says, looking over at the purple skinned teifling. Shifting the weight of the pack on his back, he makes his way over to ask.

[*Selebius]

The tiefling notices the attention he is getting with the sharp senses of a professional merchant and he waves at them and his smile is almost genuine.

"Welcome, welcome travellers to Vale of the Spine, to the most wonderful town of Ribcage."

Well- or so it is sounding in their minds, the tiefling himself producing nothing more than a string of gibberish but a on his chest the dried skin of some face is stretched over some metal frame, the dead lips forming the words they hear.

"What can I do on this wonderful, peaceful day? Only three assassinations so far, all sanctioned and Excelsior sent another delegation to experience the wonders of this place.

Perhaps you want some roast ferret? Sugared Elven Ears for your sweet tooth? Pickled maggots soft as butter? A Wand of Avoid Planar Effects? A dagger of Green Steel fresh from Baator's armories?"

[*Krayt]

Her golden green eyes set on the macabre mouth as it spoke it's piece. Seeming fascinated by the magic involved in such device.

"Do you deal in raw ore? Or do you know of one that does? Particulary one of Abishai race."

[*Selebius]

The tiefling shakes his head and produces another long string of gibberish which the dead face translates quickly.

"I do not trade in ores but smithing of weapons and armour is restricted to Lord Paracs' and Senator Firlas' craftsmen.

Devils like Abishai are not welcome here in Ribcage and rarely stay for long. Most of the time they are asked to leave or harassed long enough to leave on their own. Lord Paracs does not want to see Ribcage fall, you know."

[*Krayt]

"I see. Where does these craftsmen acquire their metal? Assume I do that a permit is needed to trade in such as well."

She canted her head looking to the barricade then met the tieflings gaze once more.

"There be a gathering point for such unwanted visitors herein whereat they meet with likewise shunned dwellers?"

[*Selebius]

"As they work for a powerful senator or the lord of Ribcage himself permits should not be much of a problem for them. Caravans from the outlands and some planes are arriving often, some carrying raw materials for the forges."

The tiefling follows the fey'ris look and shrugs. "The smart devils stay to the towns periphery or avoid entering at all.I heard the Sulfur Pits is a Spa that is very popular with them. You find it outside the walls, to the right, then follow the stench."

[*Krayt]

"These caravans are free to trade without a legal writhe directly with the smiths or be there a position held by the lords own chosen handling that?"

[*Selebius]

The tiefling thinks a bit and Maed has the feeling what he says next is more rumours or hearsay than solid knowledge.

"Everyone needs permits and the correct papers to even reach the smiths or enter the town."

He gestures at the barricades. "Also every single big family controls its own sector of Ribcage and often enforces certain laws differently or even has some rules of its own."

Then he smiles wryly and lowers his voice- the voice of the skinface that echoes in their minds still unchanged however.

"Of course there are also outsiders and smugglers everywhere who don't care about what the local powers want. But if they are caught they suffer. Lord Paracs does not tolerate something he cannot control and he gets no profit from."

[*Krayt]

She reached into her pounch and placed a 50gp worth coin before him. "My mind changed direction, I want that roasted marten."

Maed lowered her voice after that statement considerable. Putting her knuckle on the counter/table infront of him as she leaned in. "If one sought information about these illegal activities whom would one seek?"

[*Selebius]

He smiles and takes some roasted meat which is served on a stick from a grill, puts it in a simple wooden plate, adds some queer looking sauces (4 different ones- brown, red, yellow and green- two on each side of the meat in a perfect pattern of course) and some tiny loaf of white bread which is covered with some black and red seeds.

"Here Ask you at are the. Fresh Tailed and Angels warm Inn! Do Find you it want outside something the to gate drink to as the well left.?"

The words of what the macabre face prjects into her mind somehow have two meanings now- but this information is only for her and it seems that Ganatog and the other mercenaries only hear the innocent parts.