Quincy stepped off the Squalor’s Splendor into one of the many ports around Visceras. He had decided to make this trip because their group the Harpies needed information if they were going to get to the bottom of what is going on in the Windfall Archipelago. To achieve this, he was going to try to figure out what the current state of the city is, and if there were any one in the city that they could make a deal with that would not immediately sell them out if things went sideways. And the first order of business would be to go where there would be loose lips, one of the various dive bars around the port.
The place he decided to start with was a place by the name of the Drowned Dugong. It was not the most rundown and dangerous place he could find, but he felt confident that most people there would likely be too drunk to remember someone asking them questions. Upon opening the door, a wave of raucous sound and a smell of cheap rum and body odor rushed out.
After getting a drink from the bar, he headed to an open seat by an table with individuals who were obviously drunk but not the loudest in the bar.
“OI! I an’t seen you around here before?! Who is you, and why you seating there?”
“Name’s Quin; and I just got here. Was a river pirate up in Selethren. Heat got too bad, so decided to try my fortunes here. And you seemed to be some people who know how to have a good time. But there is no problem if you need me to go.”
“Ain’t no trouble, long as you willing to pay for a round of drinks for me ‘nd the blokes. And as I say, screw those stuffed shirts who tell people what they can and cannot do, and the thugs that make people follow those rules without their input. That what so great about the ‘Pelego; everyone knows the rules and you have the freedom to leave or force a change. Oh yeah, name’s Jack.”
After ordering a round of drinks for the table, and letting everyone get nice and drunker, Qunicy started to try to get some information out of Jack.
“That is a really great story, Jack. Something did just occur to me; seeing as I am new around here, you got any advice? People who will cut a fair deal for supplies, or who would be willing to take some more exotic wares off one’s hands? And anyone to keep an eye out for?”
“Exotic? You mean like magic? Don’t know much about that, stuff’s too rare and dangerous for most folks, that only captains have anything like that. I have heard someone by the east, or was it west, docks does some kind of side hustle; think it was called Jif’s Lauterhome. For stuff that me and you would use, I’ve always found a place called Crasher's Wake to deal with you straight. And as for keeping an eye out for, well that would be all of us ain’t it!!!” with Jack steadily increasing intensity causing the rest of the bar to respond, some in the affirmative, some just making a non-committal grunt, but the most responding in annoyance. “But you seem like a decent enough guy, so I’ll give you this much. Things have changed over the last few months. There used to be this guy called The Admiral that kept everyone in-line but he got replaced by the Pirate Queen. I think Cassiopeia’s er’ name. The Admiral was a bit of a stick in the muck but kept things somewhat fair, but with the Queen in charge, we are all more able to do what we want, when we want; and that has led to more brawls and people ending up dead then before, but such it the price for freedom, those not tough enough to take it here won’t last much longer on the sea; but do keep an eye out.”
“Thank you for the advice. Let me get you another round.” And with that Quincy got some stronger than normal drinks to help Jack forget the conversation and to get the table blackout drunk so he could leave with no-one the wiser.
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After leaving the Drowned Dugong, Quincy went to find the places Jack mentioned: Crasher's Wake and Jif’s Lauterhome. It took a bit of time to find Crasher’s Wake; and he was able to confirm that it was one of the more low key general stores in town. He had a fair bit more trouble figuring out the other location, namely because Jack was incorrect in the name, in that it was actually called Biff's Slaughterhouse, with the only thing tipping him off was the slight wafts of magic he could sense coming from the building.
Upon entering Biff's Slaughterhouse, Quincy met the eponymous Biff, an aging hobgoblin man. “What do you want? It’s nearly closing time. See you ain’t got no fish for me to clean, so I don’t know why you’re ‘ere.”
“Just came by to peruse your wares. You got any good chum for sale? I am new in town and do not really have enough to pay for meals at where I am staying so was looking to catch some food.”
“Ain’t many good eatin fish round Visceras, but who am I to turn down good coin.”
“Thank you for the advice. Hopefully next time I come, I will have something that may be of interest to you; whether goods or information,” said Quincy as he handed Biff the coins for the bait. “And at that point, I’ve been thinking about at getting into cooking recently. If you have any recipes on hand you’d be willing to share, maybe of the…mystic…variety, I’d be very grateful.”
At this Biff gave a grunt of acknowledgement, and Quincy left to make it back to The Squalor’s Splendor before it got too late. After the door closed Biff stood in his shop and openly wondered “Pompous ass of a halfling, what was he going on about? Could he have been trying to talk about… well, only thing to be done would be to see if he comes back, and if so, try to be get a straight answer out of him. Otherwise, his big mouth might get him killed, not that it really matters either way.”