Meredith grinned as she looked across the bridge, now this was a decent sized city......reminded her of Calimport except for the cold.....

" Shall we?", she grinned at Bell, Erudisia and Little One.

Erudisia reminds the group of a few details:

“If memory serves, we are assigned to find the book market stall in the Wide which sold the monstrous copies of Mazfroth’s Mighty Digressions. Our two witnesses neé suspects had this to add (which DM forgot to mention earlier): Yalerion remembered that the stall’s name had “dune” in it, but nothing else about the place. The Wide was too noisy and hectic for their liking. And Valor remembered it was in “not the most reputable” corner of the marketplace.”

Down from the ridge over Rivington to the causeway leading to the Wyrm’s Crossing you march. In Rivington, many dark and shifting eyes watch your progress, and furtive movements of urchins and beggars and workmen put you on your guard and you hold your coinpurses fast. But in a few minutes you have passed through the locality before beginning the crossing onto a long, covered bridge wide enough to hold many small shops and even houses. This leads to a keep: Wyrm’s Rock, the tall tower built on an island in the middle of the river, by which the road passes before rising up to a second bridge from the rock to the far shore. As you pass the keep, you see many armed men and women wearing chainmail with steel epaulettes under a red surcout. Some carry shields with their emblem, the Flaming Fist that you know gives them their name. Yet the promenade of men and beasts of burden, and now, a flock of sheep, and there, a teenager red in the face pulling two obstinate axe beaks – tall flightless birds with strong legs – is orderly if not always cordial. The armed guards move with confidence. The throng acknowledges but ignores their presence.

Now, you are crossing the second bridge, from the Wyrm's Rock to the northern shore of the Chiondar, and you proceed among dozens of farmers and merchants of all types walking and riding in and out of this great city. Humans mostly, but persons of many sizes and shapes and all colors of the rainbow; some with wings, some with horns, some fearful of your long legs and especially your horses and Little One, others causing your palfrey to shy away in turn and blow with anxiety when they come too close.

On the far shore, the bridge opens onto a paved road of flagstones, wide enough for three carriages, which slopes left around the hill, through the Outer City. First you pass a long zone of lean-tos and temporary housing, then many shrines to seemingly every God, known and obscure, a slaughterhouse, a neighborhood filled with families of gnomes, a walled hamlet within a city holding structures built in Calishite style like the desert folk far to the south. that boasts a jewel emporium, and finally a small district of half-orcs. And then you reach the great eastern walls, 40-feet tall of smooth stone, extending to either side of an entrance to the city proper. The Basilisk Gate. A 60-foot tall block of immovable stone through which an arched tunnel passes, blocked by invulnerable 3-inch thick iron gates at either end, and where Flaming Fists, the police and military force of Baldur's Gate, maintain offices and prison cells.

The gate’s name – Basilisk – is illustrative rather than literal, lined as it is with a number of fine stone statues of prominent deceased patriar, with an effigy of Entar Silvershield centered above the gate. Here, a dozen of the Flaming Fist stand guard, although even here at the gates, no one is stopped or searched or questioned. The guards cast a wary eye on all, but offer no specific challenge other than their presence, which is proud, confident, and it seems, effective.

Meredith feels very much at home, though the mix of peoples is somewhat different to Calimport and the weather far colder there is a comfort to the press of the crowd, she instinctively tucks her money pouch inside her clothing as the number of people would make taking it quite easy....

" So? Market or Inn?  I need to remove about 3 pounds of road dust from my hair...."

"I vote for the inn," Bell responded immediately. 
"We can clean up.  Get directions. And have  a 'home base' if we have to extend the visit to complete our job before returning to Candlekeep."

Erudisia agrees quickly. The journey has been long and tiring and she would stable her hard worked palfrey before they seek the book seller or the watch on foot. The city is hectic and the rat-man’s attempted banditry and Little One’s temporary unreliability has her on edge for further ill fortune, despite what her card reading may have promised. 

Meredith looked around for someone relatively wealthy looking on their way out of town, " Maám.  Sorry to bother you but can you recommend an Inn or Hotel in the city suitable for three young ladies and their guardian?"

She waved a hand back toward the others.

Persuasion- 11

You pass through the Basilisk Gate and into the great city. It is late in the afternoon now and the sun hangs low behind the upper city, and when you pass through the gate, it – the sun – stares you dead in the face. Gratefully, the main road arches a bit northward, reducing the glare and making it possible to take better stock of the sights, which are here many four-story houses, with shops on the ground floor under some of the homes. Children play games in the street. A dozen chained men finish laying new flagstones and removing blackened old ones under the whip of two Flaming Fists.

A family of five, nicely dressed, perhaps for a party or service, sit on a small wagon trundling toward you in the opposite direction at first. But it stops for a moment while the father leans over from the driver’s bucket to speak loudly with a friend walking by. The old gelding pulling the wagon evacuates onto the road. The mother’s eyes make circles, and then latch upon Meredith’s as she and the others pass, and the wife – a woman of perhaps 30 years or perhaps 40, round in the face and chin and forehead, tracks Meredith with a not unfriendly expression. So it seemed. Meredith asks her question. But the woman’s reply, her face still impassive, is to spit on the ground vaguely in the direction of Meredith’s feet. Far enough off aim for deniability. “Foreigners,” she growls to herself, loudly enough for all to hear, before turning to speak in a brisk and very unfriendly whisper to one of her children who is timorous enough to be punched by an older child. The carriage suddenly shudders onward.

“Lookin’ fer to stable yer ‘orses and o’tain rooms fer yourselves, ladeeez??,” comes a chipper voice from behind Meredith at that moment. “Oy, don’t mind that rude one some folks'll always be that way. I knowed the people hereabouts almost me ‘ole life though I be not long in the tooth!”

The speaker of these words is a teenaged half-wood elf in a simple tunic and a headband, wearing an eyepatch – although his face is otherwise smooth and attractive. He continues, his voice high and cheerful.

“Our stables’ll take ye. But ye’ve got to hurry, ladeeez, fer we’ll be full by sundown. It’s just a little ways in the direction y’er goin’, just look fer the sign with a curved blade like a moon, and stars. The Blade and Stars it is. Stables and lodging and a fine plate a fish and mead, ladeeez. Tell ‘em Pud sent ye!” He says the word “ladies” with what you assume is meant as an air of respect, although were it coming from one with a less innocent face than his, you would not believe it so.

" Curved Blade...Moon and Stars.....", Meredith repeated carefully before pressing two silvers into the lads hand.

She turned back to the others, did a quick appraisal of her belongings then headed over to talk with them.

" Right....so if we were in Calimport I'd rate it about a 40% chance that if we stay at the recommended place we will be sold into slavery sometime after midnight.......BUT I don't know this city at all.  Theories? Suggestions?"

Sleight of Hand ( Checking)- 12

Erudisia raises her eyebrows at Meredith’s muttered thoughts? Presumably nothing to do with the mad young wood elf before them. His face betrays no sign of his insensibility, but surely not a word of his strangely foreign but strangely common tongue is intelligible. 

“We. Are. Looking. For. Rooms.” Erudisia mimes opening and closing a door. “Rooms!”

She points at herself and then the be-eyepatch-tacled elf then mimes a figure walking with her two fingers in the air, atop her palfrey. “Can. You. Show. Us. SHOW. Us. There’s a good chap.” 

The young man squint-grimaces in response to Erudisia’s communications, backing up a step hesitantly. But when Meredith hands him silver, his face explodes in a smile – except for the eyepatch, which does not explode – and he seems to arrive at a conclusion. The lady is both frightened of the city and hard of hearing.

He shakes his head sheepishly at his slowness on the uptake, “Oh, oh, oyyy! All right ah!,” then inhales deeply and pipes with exaggerated slowness and clarity, “AY!, MI-LAY-DEEEE, AYE KIN SHEW YERZ WHICH WAY FER CER-TAIN!,” and with Erudisia’s leave, he takes her palfrey’s bridle in hand, whispering in a friendly way to the horse, and leads you through the busy avenue, past two more side streets, until you see the sign he described.

“THIS IS IT, MI-LAY-DEEEE!,” the half-wood elf picks up, smiling at Meredith in a good-natured way.

There is a stable behind the place, from which a shout comes from the stable hands. “Did yer fetch it back, Pud? NO? Course not, curse ye, ye only lift five minute ‘go an it only takes yer that much time to fergit your name, where yer from and whatever task yer may o’ been set! But a’least ye brought work back wit ye.”

“I’ll get to the gate ‘n’ back quick as a swift, Bibit, don’t worry!,” says Pud amiably. “Just take these palfreys, fer these ladeeez!,” and the teenager bolts back toward the Basilisk Gate after handing your horses’ leads to the stable hands, who tip their shapeless brown felt hats and wait for you to dismount.

Meredith just grins the entire way.

The innkeeper is named Lupin, a large brown-complexioned human woman in her forties with short-cropped tightly curled dark hair and an anchor tattoo on her shoulder. She wears a black leather-laced vest over a white sleeveless shirt and brown pants. Lupin offers a sad but warm welcoming smile, and with her you arrange for rooms and meals. Meals of chowder and bread are served in the guest rooms. The common room is rather empty at this moment but Lupin tells you that it tends to fill up after the evening meal.

(We’ll assume you settle in, bathe, and receive your supper. We can cut to the end of the meal where you can decide what to do next. A quiet night in the inn and an early start? Or, after supper go to the common room or stretch your legs with a walk about town?)

Erudisia places her last eighth of bread by her quarter eaten soup, she has half a mind to ask for the recipe. “I think we should see the city at night. The smells, the culture, the folk. When last I passed through I was near sequestered by my father’s armsmen. And,” she picks up the bread, puts it in the soup, puts it down again on her napkin and folds it away, “The ne’erdowell behind the books surely skulks in the lengthening shadows of alcoves and market stalls.”

(As a Warlock, may I mark this off as a handy dandy short rest for Erudisia?) 

Quote from NycrolB >>

Erudisia places her last eighth of bread by her quarter eaten soup, she has half a mind to ask for the recipe. “I think we should see the city at night. The smells, the culture, the folk. When last I passed through I was near sequestered by my father’s armsmen. And,” she picks up the bread, puts it in the soup, puts it down again on her napkin and folds it away, “The ne’erdowell behind the books surely skulks in the lengthening shadows of alcoves and market stalls.”

(As a Warlock, may I mark this off as a handy dandy short rest for Erudisia?) 

 (It's the next day after your last encounter, so you've had time for a handy dandy long rest the prior night! :)

(Excellent)

Meredith looked up as Erudisia spoke, she looked across the room towards Lupin....there's no way she could pull off that look.....then back to Bell and Little One.

" So we go out in the dark?  That seems dangerous......I mean not as dangerous as home.....probably....."

" B-Bell, are you up for it?"

"I suppose."  Bell did not look overly confident about going out into a strange city after sundown.
"I mean, this IS why we came all this way." 

Erudisia looks to Little One for his input. 

Little One has been in turns excessively nice and morbidly depressed throughout the day so far. His usual conviviality has been quieted by guilt and helplessness following the experience of the prior night. And, he has insisted on wearing a blanket over his head, like a shawl, all day, to keep his headband from possibly falling off. When Erudisia asks his opinion, he is lost in thought, though he quickly recovers.

“I am concern about last night. I so sorry. You all know, especially Bell. I already say. I say again. I sorry Bell. But also, I no want to happen again. I have been consider this problem. Headband must stay in place to insure safety those near me. Blanket over head not permanent solution. Need find something better. Bookstall in market place. I want go markets. Maybe find better holder for headband. But merchants not always open night time. And I not know Baldur’s Gate. We looking for marketplace call 'The Wide.' Where is?”