Shrieba scoffs at Ilithienne's demand. "Hah! I was here fIRst, berk!"

Aruzhal's proposition gets another wicked grin out of him. "Oh pleAse. I eat the dead for pLEAsure. I-" His beady eyes dart around. He notices that there are five times as many opponents as him.

Mikaela's rebuke causes him to take a step back, hunching his shoulders again and letting out a hateful hiss. 

Gavyn's remark is the last straw. His flayed stub of a nose upturns in disgust and humiliation. "FINE! I'll go. BE wARned, thEse alleys are MY TURF! I won't forget this InsULt. NExt time, yOU will be the ones CRINGING AWAY in FEAR!" His voice seems to rapidly alternate between a low rasp to high-pitched shrieking multiple times per sentence.

If allowed to pass, the gaunt, lanky Shrieba makes his way towards the street, looking behind cautiously at all of you.

Ilithinne takes a step back allowing Shrieba to pass but not for a second she takes her eyes off of him. Once passed, she lets a long breath out of her lungs, sheets her rapier and looks for the old man  "His friends are gone so do we now need to make sure he is treated with dignity?" she asks. 

Mikaela also makes room to let the creature pass by.  Her hand never leaving her weapon, she even takes two steps after Shrieba, keeping at full alert until he is out of sight.  After waiting several moments, vigilant for him to return, she finally seems to relax, her nerves showing a bit at the confrontation just averted.  

She nods to Ilithinne "Yes, we should see the body properly buried. There's little else to do for him I guess."   She then turns to the group and says, "All of you, very well done. Supporting each other, that's how we'll get through this."

Kallista watches the man as he leaves. "Now... we just have to figure out where exactly we are I suppose."

"As the old man said, we're at a place called the Hive..." Gavyn says to the tiefling. "...can't imagine why it's called that." He adds with a chuckle, looking around the alley. "Perhaps we should continue to find our missing persons while also looking out for a portal to bring them back home again. To be clear, I don't personally mind finding myself in a place I've never seen before, in fact I rather enjoy the thrill of this eventhough this particular place could do with some cleaning up." He then turns to Mikaela with a shy smile. "Apologies milady for not quite staying with the truth when describing you just now, I'm sure I it would have been the truth if I only had known you a little longer though." He adds in an apologetic tone.

The tall dragonborn takes a breath as Shrieba retreats for the time being. "For pleasure... I see no pleasure in such an act."

Aruzhal glances toward Mikaela. "Agreed. Our original goal was the completion of the advertisement, but I see much value in continuing to work together."

Then to Kallista. "We will likely find better answers once we leave this place. Let's venture toward the main street and have a look around."

Mikaela looks toward Gavyn, "Definitely a fabrication on your part. I can only hope one day I can wield the light of Torm to make demons run. For today, your ruse worked and avoided bloodshed."

Then turning to the others she says, "If we're agreed I will lead us onward. It would be nice, if we can find anyone, to ask if they've seen those we're looking for."  She still pauses a moment to see if anyone objects, but is ready to move on.

As Mikaela turns towards the street, three new figures file into the alleyway from around the corner, one after the other in a line. The first two are hunched, diminutive types clad in dirty brown robes, hoods hiding their faces. They pass you all without looking up. The third figure, a shaggy and cantankerous orc, follows in deliberate, commanding stride. He looks each of you up and down, flaring his pig-like nostrils and grins a grin of yellowed teeth. You notice that one of his eyes is a cloudy grey, with a jagged, ugly scar laid across it. He carries a tall wooden staff and a battered round shield, painted with faded, peeling red paint.

The two hooded men scurry over to the eviscerated corpse. "We're too late, boss," one of them says, looking up to the orc, who remained near the entrance to the alley. "Shrieba got his mits on this deader first."

The second one chimes in. "Them Dusties'll give us a hard time if we give them a deader who can't stay in one piece."

"Yeah, we'll have to sew 'im up just to bring 'im back to half the jink."

"Very well, boys. Git to work then." The orc says in a disappointed tone. He then turns to you. "I know a Prime when I smell one." He chuckles. "So, how'd you end up here? Walk under a ladder? Stumble into an oak hollow? Stepped in a puddle wrong?"

Mikaela gives the orc a quick look. "It is a strange story. A serving tray opened a passage. We are actually looking for others who must have gone that way before us. By any chance have you seen other... Prime? Recently? We'd really like to find them."  She pauses a moment, looking back at the other two examining the corpse. "Is there anything we can help you with, with him?" She inclines her head in that direction. "I presume you will take proper care of him? But it would really help if you could share where we might find them." 

(Persuasion to try to get him to share what he knows: 5)

Gavyn sincerely doubts Mikaela would agree if she realized what the men were about to do with the deader, but they needed to know if the orc had seen the other primies before confronting him about what proper care would mean when spoken by someone like the freckled paladin. 

Aruzhal narrows his eyes. ”All those things can result in being taken here? How often? Surely there must be some way to return. Not easily I imagine, but it must be possible.”

”…who are the dusties?”

The orc smiles and looks up for a moment, as though in deep thought. "Yer gonna have to be more specific, ma'am. We git Primes poppin' through portals every day!" He turns to Aruzhal to address his question. "We call this place here the City of Doors fer a reason. Portals open 'n close in every nook 'n cranny every moment, 'round the clock. Anythin' can be a portal, as long as it's an open space between its sides. Doorways, windows, fireplaces, hoops, a crack in a wall, a ring on yer finger. Heck, if I rest my staff on this wall here," As he says so, he touches the quarterstaff against the stone, then gestures to the space between his body and the wall. 

"This space here could turn be a portal an' we'd never know it. The thing is, every portal has a key. This key could be anythin'.  It could be a specific object, or somethin' less material. Like a song or smell or somethin'. 'Cause of this, we get Primes openin' portals by accident all the time. Sometimes they work both ways, most of the time, the poor sods end up stuck 'ere. 'Course, there's always a way back. Somewhere. Most berks give up long before they find it. That, or they end up in the deadbook tryin'. Ah! That brings me to your next question!"

As he speaks, the two disheveled men in cloaks are at work on the corpse. One of them has produced a needle and thread and has set to work stitching up the dead man's chest. The other pats down the body, searching every pocket before making his way to the scattered belongings surrounding the ruined tent.

"As you know, people die a lot. Young, old, wise, foolish, Prime, planar (though them planars are damn hard to kill, not that I'd be stupid enough to try), everyone. This city has a lot of people. And that means a lot of dying, which means corpses piling up left and right. Or at least, that's what would happen if it weren't for the Mortuary. The Dustmen, or 'dusties' as we call 'em 'round here, are the caretakers of the Mortuary, and are in charge of all corpse disposal in the city. They incinerate the bodies or recycle them or somethin'. Anyways, the problem is that there ain't enough dusties to go 'round, and that's where we come in." 

The robed men have finished 'fixing' the corpse, and have begun dragging it out of the alley, nudging you slightly to move out of their way to let them pass.

"Y'see, we're 'Collectors'. Independent contractors, if you will. The dusties'll pay good money if you do their job for them. Come to the Mortuary gates with a deader in tow, that's jink in yer purse and food on the table. 'Course, the pay ain't everythin', so we reserve the right to help ourselves to the deader's pockets as an added expense."

The robed man who had looted the body is now counting copper coins from a purse he'd found in the wrecked tent.

"I understand that at a glance it might seem like scummy business, but I assure you, we have it tough as well. The Collector's line of work is rife with competition. We 'ave to fight with tooth 'n claw for those deaders. We earn what we get."

Ilithienne approaches the cart with the dead bodies. She reaches to her pocket and puts two pieces of silver on the dead man's eyes. "For your travel, lad" she says quietly and she turns away. She is sure the coins will end up in someone's pocket as soon as she goes away, but she knows the curse will fall on the taker... Nevertheless, what she sees in here is more honest than the deeds on the Underdark where her father's flayed body was dumped by her mother to the doorsteps of his lover... And the ***** kept his skin... 

She keeps her eyes closed for a moment then she turns to the orc. "Could you tell us how to get to the city center? And who runs this city?"

Gavyn smiled slightly at the thought of these people doing what in these parts would be considered an honest job, but he still wondered about these dusters who supposedly burned the bodies. He was excited to hear what was told about this City of Doors. What an amazing place to be, fate and luck bringing you here and who knew where you would ned up when you left. "And more importantly, could you point us to a decent tavern? This plane travelling business has made me quite thirsty." He says to the orc with a friendly smile.

Mikaela seems unconcerned with the description of the Collectors' work. "We are specifically  looking for three people - a butler, Raceland, then Emma, a maid, and then a Lord Olwin."  She tries to briefly describe them.  (Which may be quick as I'm not sure how much she knows!)

She gives Gavyn a brief look,  then turns back to the orc. "It would be helpful to know if there is a place where we might... well, get directions for navigating this place.  If we're going to a tavern, decent is not quite as important as nearest. We want to find information on those we are looking for."

"Yes, yes that too of course." Gavyn says, nodding in agreement with the freckled paladin. He was quite lucky to have someone serious minded around to remember why they were here in the first place.

"Interesting," Kallista seems to be fixated on the idea of portals being formed and the keys that form them. "Though I suppose if an easy way to find these portals was found then there wouldnt be so many 'Primes' around to begin with. I suppose that's a reference to the Prime Material Plane?"

"Right you are, Miss," He says to Kallista. "The high-up folks in the city try to record every portal, but there's thousands unaccounted for."

"Haven't seen anyone by those names." He says to Mikaela. "People who get lost in the Hive usually aren't found again. My advice? Talk to the Dusties. Maybe yer friends have already turned up in the Mortuary. If yer lookin for a decent meal close by, the Smoldering Corpse Bar is yer best bet for somethin' close to the quality you're used to. If you want a place to sleep, then get as far away from this district as possible. Ain't no one offerin' bed & breakfast here, and don't accept offers of such. You'll either turn up in the Mortuary with yer throat slit, or wake up in an alley robbed of anythin' worth so much as a copper. The Smolderin' Corpse is just down the street from the Mortuary. That way." He points down the street. From where you stand in the alley, you'd be turning right. 

Hearing the term "city center", the orc briefly looks up at the sky, then turns back to Ilithienne. "The City don't work that way. Wrong shape." He chuckles. "If you wanna get outta the slums, just pick a street and walking in one direction long enough and you'll find yerself in a nicer neighborhood, as long as you stay away from the Slags. As for who's in charge, influence varies depending on which ward you stand in."

"'Course, I'm no tout. If ya want a better guide, you should find one. They wander the streets lookin' for new folks like you. The ones in the Hive charge in coppers, so you should be good on jink. Speakin' of which, how 'bout a few coppers to spare for the humble feller who went outta his way to point ya in the right direction?"

He sets down his shield and holds out his hand expectantly.

One of the brown-cloaked men, returning to their corpse-wagon and seeing the coins Ilithienne placed on the cadaver's eyes, snatches them greedily and adds them to his pouch.

"We shouldn't need lodgings. Surely we'll be on our way back in no time," Mikaela says when the orc mentions a place to sleep. "But we can try the Smoldering Corpse for information."  At the end of his talk, she fishes out 5 copper pieces and hands them to him. "We are most grateful for your help." 

She asks the rest of the group, "Are we ready to move on?  We just need to find someone that's seen one of our missing persons. We can then head for other parts of town to find a way out."  She says this as though she expects to be wrapped up by dinner time. 

Gavyn smiles and nods in agreement with Mikaela. The orc was far more civilized and well articulated than what he would have expected from one of his ilk. He wasn't quite as optmistic as the freckled paladin over how easy it would to find a portal that would take them back. Even if they where lucky enough to end up in Faerûn they might still be weeks, even months of travel from Amphail. Still, it was the journey that he lived for and he was in no hurry to part with this intriguing company. "Yes, lets have those drinks at the Smoldering Corpse, and while there we might as well ask around for our missing persins." He adds quickly.