The duergar takes what feels like days to stroke his chin in contemplation.

"A dagger? This IS the City of Blades, one small dagger as a token of your intentions of good behavior while here...", he shakes his head, pulling his eyes from the dagger on Neth's hips to survey the rest of what you carry.

"The dagger and some of the drow weapons you carry... say a shortsword, a rapier, longbow and hand crossbow? Oh, and some of those poisoned bolts the drow got, if you've any? I'd say that could serve as an admission fee for the lot of you."

Fortunately, Neth seems oblivious to the discussion, instead assuring Lia that everything will be fine. She seems unplacated, whispering worriedly to him.

Galingal:

Galingal is uncomfortable staying out here in the open so long and contemplates forcing their way through the doorway. But he decides against it given the noise it could cause.

”The dagger or the drow gear. Choose either. Not both. We know the value of the dagger.”

Stena adds her glowery weight to the statement with a nod and menacing presence.

He chews on his lip in consideration, before eventually nodding. "Dagger it is then... I've an... associate in the Docks district. Werz Saltbaron. You'll take it to him. He'll hold onto it, and I'll be checking in with him after my shift, yeah?"

"Okay," Galingal nods as he speaks. "Now. How we get in?"

The duergar grins and gives a sweeping bow to point into the room behind him. "I'm Gorglak. Welcome to Gracklstugh!"

With the door closed behind you, he leads the way through the twisting tunnel, which eventually opens out through an other similar door, though this one opens into a tiny courtyard, only enough to house a guardhouse that controls a gate. There are some assembled boxes and crates that obstruct the hidden doorway, from inside the city, it likely looks like a supply depot with a small outpost.

He closes the hidden door and keys open the gate, pausing momentarily before escorting you into the city streets. He flags down a pair of duergar guards, who come tromping over. "Traders finishing up a delivery, they need to be escorted back to the Darklake District. Can you see to it?"

There's a bit of grumbling, before the older, balder of the two gestures for you to follow them. Gorglak turns away as if he has no more interest in the party, but anyone looking back might see the gleam of avarice in his eyes. The more perceptive of the party looking back may pick up on the footsteps of two unseen duergar following at the rear of the party.

The portion of the city you are in now is mostly made up of what might be residential areas, doors carved into stone walls, spirals up pillars of stone that stack dwellings on top of dwellings. The air is thick and smoggy, the acrid heat pressing in on you. You can't help but wonder how the more industrial parts of the city must feel. You see a few grey dwarves going about their day, and any second glances are put at ease by the presence of (seemingly) three duergar among a bunch of outsiders. In fairly short order you're brought to an iron gate with a pair of duergar on either side. Your escorts speak to the residential side pair briefly, and the request is passed through to the pair on what you take to be the Darklake District side. One of each pair begins operating chains set within an alcove on their side of the gate, and they begin to swing open, the quiet of the gates unexpected, but any lack of creaking perhaps an indication of the dwarven attention to detail. It would seem that opening any gates of this sort would require coordination from both sides.

The Darklake spreads out beyond a jumble of buildings and streets, reflecting the lights of countless fires burning across the city within hollowed-out columns and stalagmites. There's a less ordered nature to it that stands in contrast to the bit of the more Gracklstugh proper that you'd just traversed, almost as if the Darklake District is a city within a city, but one that is inhabited largely by outsiders and those duergar businesses who cater to the outsiders. The din here is of conversation and commerce, that almost manages to drown out the sounds of industry coming from deeper within the city.

Though the streets are crowded, you move easily within the surging throng of buyers, merchants, and slaves. You aren't the only outsiders here, as you spy drow, svirfneblin, derro, orcs, and other races in the crowds. There is a momentary panic upon seeing other drow, but your travel with first Sarith, and now Petmailer has at least permitted some desensitization to the mere appearance of  your former captors. They seem to take no interest in you, and pass on by. There are no other goblins that you see, and Yuk Yuk and Spiderbait seem largely oblivious to their uniqueness in the city, instead looking around and commenting in agreement at how 'gnarly' the city is.  The shouting of people blends with the sound of distant hammering to create a constant, distracting cacophony.

Your escort makes sure you're through the gate, and then the pairs of guards on each side guide the gate closed, sectioning you off into the 'outsider district'.

Galingal looks around at their surroundings now that their escort has gone.

"This not pleasant," Galingal finally says about the heat, smoke and noise.

Waiting for a moment when Neth is looking at the 'fine' city, he asks the others "Do we drop this dagger off?"

"*cough* *cough* I'm fine. It's all fine. *cough*"

Stena doesn't comment on the state of the city, of course it's awful, just a reflection of the duergar themselves.

She does start scanning to see what shops there are around. At Gal's question,

"Aye. Best keep our word on that and be rid of the thing as well. Ye going to take it or meh?"

“Gnarly.  Hmmm.”  Petmailer has stayed quiet this entire time, but now feels a little hope, seeing other drow, derro, orcs etc.  “Smells… rough here.  Do you have the dagger?  Anything we should get along the way?  I’ve never seen this town, would be interesting *cough* to see what they have here..”

((Neth is wearing the dagger, and thus far oblivious to it being the cost of entry.))

Galingal looks over at Neth and then back to Stena.

"It's safe for now," Galingal says.

He looks across the crowds of merchants and travelers. His hardest looks are reserved for the orcs, looking to see if any of them are actually Orogs. But so far it looks like just orcs so he ignores them.

He then looks for a merchant that might pass as friendly, or at least not unfriendly that is coming up from the docks and asks if they've ever heard of Werz Saltbaron.

Stena is also looking for weapons merchants as they go and Galingal does the 'people' work.

((You can give me perception and/or insight checks?))

Galingal - Perception/Insight - same mod - 25 

Kolose is clearly looking uncomfortably at this city and how hot and bustling it is, but draws down his hood to hide it all a bit better. He seems distinctly uncomfortable with the fact that they promised neths dagger... But copes by mostly not interacting with him.

"I hope this is all worth it..." 

Kolose for his own part might look for someone selling books, or spell scrolls. 

Perception: 14

Petmailer sneezes and looks around, peering through the smoky air.  

Perception : 5

((Sorry, end of quarter crunch got to me, and I neglected to give you all a heads up. On spring break now, but at a conference. Will have forum time in the evenings, goal would be to get things moving back and a more regular pace here. Hoped to get one up before my day started, but no such luck.))

A quick glance over possibilities leaves Galingal with the distinct impression that if one is looking for 'friendly', the duergar are not it, and he'd likely have more luck with the outsider merchants being more amenable to discussion. A deep gnome merchant near the docks catches his eye, not so much her, rather, but instead the large creature of earth and stone that even squatting looms behind her in a bodyguard type stance. She has a small folding table open in front of her, with some jewelry placed across a swatch of dark fabric. Galingal strides over and inquires about Mr. Saltbaron.

"Mayhaps, I have, if I've seen your sleeves. A goodneighbor is in need of an ice man, if you're as Bob."

You get the sense that she's speaking in some kind of code. Jimjar clears his through behind you, giving her a nod. "Mind if I tighten my spare gloves? They got damp on the way here."

Jimjar is not wearing gloves, much less wet ones, which Neth finds odd, but gives a shrug, muttering that it's 'fine'. The merchant with the earth elemental returns a gracious smile, to which Jimjar extends a short bow before speaking quietly for the party's ears. "Seems she knows the guy we need, but she's a fence looking for smugglers, if we can handle the job. Should I ask for more details?"

Stena notes that some of the orcs that are definitely not orogs have a small stall where they are selling and possibly buying weaponry. What they have is much more crude than the stuff of duergar make, but in the area where you are currently, they seem to be the only weapons merchants. They have an air about them that suggests that they aren't really good at the whole merchant thing, and perhaps came into a bunch of weapons somehow and weren't able to sell it off to a vendor, so are trying to make a go of it on their own. There must be a more reputable place to unload gear, perhaps in the direction of what sounds like loud haggling a few blocks over.