"Not exactly," Samir ignores the whisper from Salty and continues the conversation. "More like..." he pauses, "...colleagues, as it were. We are in need of some paperwork from within his business. Do you happen to know of a way inside? An extra key perhaps? Also, we are wondering if there has been anyone else that has come by his business recently. Not counting the landlord Scribe Hadiya Bint Farra, of course." 

Ibrahim looks at Samir and then to the armed Salty warily "You need a way inside without speaking to the landlord. Are you truly his colleagues? If you are you should have known, he had passed away. If you need to enter then just contact the landlord" 

Salty

While his eyes are on the shells, his ears are on the conversation, paying special interest to the man's replies with regards to Malik.  He wants to get a sense of the man and his honesty.

***OoC: insight 23 (natty 20)***

Salty surmises that Ibrahim is being sincere in his concern and wariness. That he may be suspicious the party are some kind of thieves. 

"I would agree," Samir says mirthlessly. "And we would have known this if we had not been out of the region handling business. Alas, we have just returned and discovered his business closed. We simply wish to conclude our contract as swiftly as possible." 

Lucan stays silent. 

He does not want to make things worse by letting his emotions about his friend Malik get in the way.  This must unfold as fate needs it to happen.  He will tell the others later in private.  While this man may be a friend of Malik we don't know if he's involved in some way, either by fear or by greed.  The less he knows about some of the group the better.  Until Ibrahim proves his colors, Lucan will remain in the shadows.

Lucan does a cursory investigation of the place as best he can from being in the back less seen, but taking glimpses very casually.

Lucan Stealth!  16 to be unnoticed

Lucan Investigation!  19 to discern things of interest.

Salty

Salty arranges his cloak to ensure that his holy symbol is visible.  The storm gray shell, adorned with a trio of lightning bolts, signified his devotion to Valkur, a minor diety of the sea.  

"I'm fer likin' yer collection o' shells.  If yer knowin' who me holy symbol stands fer, then yer knowin' that Salty and the boys here are fer doin' right by folk."  His words are spoken with complete sincerity and the subtle confidence of a man speaking the truth.  While Salty IS speaking the truth about the team's motives, he is also aware that the words could be taken as an endorsement of Samir's prior statement.

"We're needin' to see them papers fer finishin' our work.  Would the landlord be havin' them do ye thinks?"

Lucan remains in the background, but he does not discern anything of note. 

Ibrahim looks to the holy symbol in puzzlement "I do not recognize that symbol. I am not sure what business or papers you need with a good man dead some weeks now. As I have said you should speak to the landlord regarding such matters as I don't know what papers you seek. Now if you are not here to buy ink then please leave my shop" 

Ibrahim's tone is tense and speaks of suspicion of the party motives. 

Salty

Salty shakes his head gently in disappointment.  "As ye wish," he said.  He turned and headed towards the door, muttering and grumbling with every step.  His voice is very quiet but those close by may hear, "never seen'd me shell?? grumble, grumble, "right nears the ocean and never know'd of Valkur," grumble.  As he reaches the door, he pauses and turns back to Ibrahim.  With a deep breath and a small sigh he says, "Whether or no ye heard o' Valkur, ye have his blessing anyhow.  May yer seas be calm and yer nets full."  With that he steps out into the street.  

When the others join he says, "That went 'bout as good as a wet fart in full plate.  We're to be havin' better luck with his mate. Valkur is supportin' our mission, don't ye doubt." 

Krakan has been standing quietly watching the interaction, clearly the Goliath feels out of place in this store, like a bull in an inkshop.  He sees the suspicion and the hesitation of the owner to help.  He tries a different course, and one that might help, perhaps, down the road.  “*ahem* Excuse me.  Pardon me sir, I heard you mention that Malik’s favorite ink was Adl wa Haqq ink, do you happen to have a small bottle of it that I could purchase?  And also a quill and a few sheets of paper, please.  We will follow your advice, sir, meant no disrespect.  Do you happen to know his landlord, ever met him, or know where we can find him?”  Krakan waits to see how he responds, in thought for a moment, then asks one last question.  “Do you have any ink that you recommend for tattoos?” 

Ibrahim pauses in thought and it's as if you can see his mind at work as his expression reads: A sale is a sale. So be it. 

He rummages through the shelves and carefully gathers 2 ink bottles. One deep black with a glint of midnight blue. "This is Adl wa Haqq ink". The other an earthier black ink. "This ink will do for tattoos. Each bottle cost 10 gp, Quill is 2 cp, and parchment is 1 sp each." 

He then scratches the stubble on his chin "I am sure the landlord must have met Malik when they signed the lease. I do not know this landlord as I have owned my shop for many years now. I do not know where you can find this landlord... wait I remember seeing a for lease placard on Malik's door. Maybe that is a place to start. I am sorry that is all I know."

Lucan leaves the establishment slinking out quietly and expecting the others right behind him. Once they're out of ear shot he comments, "I wanted to stay unnoticed my friends.  Obviously we don't know who might be involved in all of this.  I'd like to stay in the shadow a bit so should there be any question as to how many there are of us the merchants will only have a rough number to give. Lucan knew Malik Al-Hakim. A righteous man in a crooked city. Years ago, Malik had caught me mid-theft in a spice merchant’s garden. Instead of raising the alarm, Malik gave him a date, sat him down, and said: "You have the hands of a thief, but maybe the heart of something more. Steal what the world won’t give. But don’t steal from those who have nothing left." That moment stuck like a gem in my memory. This is personal for me my friends. I doubt Malik would discuss it in detail enough for a merchant to recognize me and perhaps his work ethic would prevent it even more so.  Anyway I didn't want to risk being seen by the ink merchant."

Lucan works his way to middle of the group when they decide where they are going.

"You're right, we don't know who is involved." Samir says sadly. "And your personal stake in this makes it more important for us to solve this. We can either find a way into the store here, or we find the landlord." 

Salty

"I'm wonderin' if Malik had a helper, fer filin' papers and such.  Bet they'd be knowin' a thing er two."  Salty was not known for his deep thinking, he was more of a chop it and ask questions later sort of orc.  He was as shocked as anyone that he thought of something bordering on useful.  

OOC -

Bazaar office of Malik for case work

Shurta Paperwork

Talk to the Tellak at the Unusual Hammam at the docks.

Talk to his best friend, Hassam al-Mu'allim a calligrapher  You can find him at his studio in the artisan quarter, tehy meet in Bayt-al-dhahab (House of gold) a teahouse by day and stronger drinks during the night.

“I need a good stopper on that ink.  I’ll pay you a silver piece for the quill.  A gold piece for a case to put 2 sheets of parchment in.  And the Adl wa Haqq ink.  I’ll forgo the other ink for my tattoos, I was just curious.”  Krakan manages a smile to the ink merchant, trying to make amends.  He hands over 11 gp and 3 sp to the man, followed by a short bow, then walks out of the store with the items, hoping that he’s smoothed things over and perhaps opened an option for the future.  As he’s walking along with Lucan, he says “I don’t know if you have the ability, but it may come in handy, if you could see a copy of Malik’s writing, if we needed a not from him, in his ink, in his handwriting, to get the truth out of someone, trick them into giving us information… I know, it is a stretch, but it may come in handy…I don’t know if you have that… skill?  To do something like that?”  He turns and looks at Lucan with a smile and a nod.  

“Let’s head on to see Hassan al-Mu’allim, to see if he has any useful information, what do you say?”  Krakan says as they walk along.

"You're forethought shows your wisdom. Let us hope deception and forgery are not necessary however. Let us go find his friend." Samir nods to Krakan.

As you pass beneath the archway marking the entrance to the Artisan Quarter, the city's clamor softens into something older, deeper—a symphony of creation. The air shifts: it smells of wet clay, sawdust, hot iron, linseed oil, and the faintest whisper of crushed lapis. The soundscape is unlike the chaos of the bazaar—no hawkers shouting for attention, no clinking coin. Here, hammers tap in measured rhythm, saws murmur through cedar, brushes whisper against silk. This is the heart of the city’s soul—the place where things are made.

Sunlight filters through latticework balconies strung with drying dyes and fabrics stretched taut on wooden frames. Slender alleyways twist between multistory ateliers; their façades washed in soft earth tones and decorated only with the quiet elegance of carved wooden signage or a splash of painted tile. Smoke drifts upward from the forge of the metalsmith, and a sculptor brushes marble dust from her apron as you pass. Apprentices move with urgency between workshops, cradling bundles of raw materials like sacred offerings.

You come to double doors flanked by stone columns and crowned with a carved wooden lintel bearing a single word in flowing script: al-Mu'allim. Inside the floor is inlaid with geometric marble tiles imported from Andalus. The wall of awards dominates the room like a curated timeline of glory. Medallions from every known sultanate, framed certificates with royal seals, handcrafted trophies of silver and polished horn. There in between 2 of most prestigious awards is an unmistakable gap. Perhaps Hassan al-Mu'allim is preparing the space for another trophy. 

At the far end sits Hassen al-Mu'allim at his custom-made desk. Though he doesn’t flaunt it, his wealth is visible in the studio he’s curated around himself: the finest ink imported from the far isles of the East, brushes tipped in sable and housed in velvet trays, paper handmade from lotus fiber, and antique scripts from vanished caliphates framed on the walls beside his own. He wears a robe of a silk, cotton blend dyed in dusk red. He is tall, lithe, and with a black beard with a few curls that softens the frame of his face. His ears are subtly pointed alluding to his mixed heritage. 

He slowly looks up from his work as you enter "Welcome to my studio. Are you here to commission my services or is this regarding a different matter?" 

Current Time

2:45 PM 

Quote from Twombley >>

“I need a good stopper on that ink.  I’ll pay you a silver piece for the quill.  A gold piece for a case to put 2 sheets of parchment in.  And the Adl wa Haqq ink.  I’ll forgo the other ink for my tattoos, I was just curious.”  Krakan manages a smile to the ink merchant, trying to make amends.  He hands over 11 gp and 3 sp to the man, followed by a short bow, then walks out of the store with the items, hoping that he’s smoothed things over and perhaps opened an option for the future.  As he’s walking along with Lucan, he says “I don’t know if you have the ability, but it may come in handy, if you could see a copy of Malik’s writing, if we needed a not from him, in his ink, in his handwriting, to get the truth out of someone, trick them into giving us information… I know, it is a stretch, but it may come in handy…I don’t know if you have that… skill?  To do something like that?”  He turns and looks at Lucan with a smile and a nod.  

“Let’s head on to see Hassan al-Mu’allim, to see if he has any useful information, what do you say?”  Krakan says as they walk along.

 Lucan look at Kraken nods and says softly, "I am slightly skilled in that area. It could be possible, but there are always risks my new friend. It would be best to use as a last resort.  I try to use my skill only if necessary and when I think I have a pretty good chance of success.  In this case it's 50/50. In my opinion. It is an option."

Lucan discusses this on the way to the artisan's area, "Did Hassan set Malik up using their friendship to Hassan's advantage?  Such a friend might do that.  Mmmm Hassan obviously has money, maybe power or maybe he was pressured. How can we get the truth from Hassan my friends?"

Lucan stays near the back and struggles knowing Malik help changed his life and now he knows of Hassan his best friend.  Lucan waits to sees how the dialogue with Hassan develops.