A stocky halfling by the name of Gregori lets you know: "The army's been buyin' up cattle sumthin' fierce… If they keep goin' at this rate, Sow's Foot'll have a year's breedin' to do jus' to get back up to the same levels. It's the same to me anyways, 's long as they  pay me in good cold guilder. Pretty sure they'll get yer cattle either way, nice to see 'em askin' for a change…" The man seems to have  an odd sense of humour, and Shades is unsure of any nuances that the farmer might have had in his meaning.

Content with this information, Shades goes to the closest tavern to see what else he can discover. Investigation 8+3

During the day, the Stubborn Mule Tavern is mostly home to the unlucky daylabourers, that weren’t offered a job on one of the ranches, or with the slaughterhouse. With a significant portion of the city relying on the meat produced in Sow’s Foot and the areas nearby, many urban poor were drawn to the little town’s central square at dawn every day, in the hopes of being hired for work on the outlying farms. Those that aren’t picked either head back to the city to try their luck with the harbour, or they head down towards Rivington to help the fishers. The rest get washed up here, usually with the second mug of ale around ten in the morning. It wasn’t a happy place, and the tap room showed it- the large rack meant to display the many drinks on offer standing empty, after one too many barfights smashed them last, and with the chairs bolted to the floor to prevent them being used in a fight. 

However much the place lacked in charm, it was a decent source for information, and with its proximity to the slaughterhouse, served the best meat pies in the entire north. Shades was here at least partly for that reason as well, and as he enjoys his meat pie, he overhears two dwarven farmhands, both in their cups: “I swear I seen it... As tall as a cow, an’ its fire is deadly ‘cross the Chionthar“ “Wha’ bullshite... what’d they use ‘forged up ‘ere for, when the war’s goin’ on in the east? Shut yer lyin’ trap ‘fore I shut it for ye!” “Yeah? Come on then...” The large human bartender physically pulled them apart to prevent a further escalation. “That’s nuff from both a ye- If ya can’t play nice, play somewhere else... Ye still owe me fer tha table ye smashed last month, let’s not add to the tab, yea?” and with that was getting ready to shove the two out of his bar.

Shades walks over to the pair of them “What was it that you said you saw? I enjoy a tall tale as much as the next man. Let’s not turn this into a fight boys.”

Persuasion 13+1

Terin does stop by and pays for a newspaper to read as he walks along, checking for valuable job postings, his first stop though is along the Grayharbour to try and find the warehouse. His thoughts roam about what kind of situations they are in, the Imperials making such a power grab at certain liberties within the city. Music, taverns, basic necessities, they have to know that limiting or outright cancelling such things could lead to much bigger uprisings.

His main goal is to get an outside fari assessment of which warehouse would be the most likely to be housing goods for the invaders. If he can find the correct warehouse, his next step would be to brainstorm who owns the building and/or the buildings next to it.

OOC: Not sure which rolls I should put down so I will roll them all heh

"Help Wanted!

Veronica Bormul is looking to hire cooks for their upcoming name day feast. Two former references required. Must be able to bake the traditional Bormul Soufflé and be familiar with Garronian cooking.

Duke Vanthampur is looking for experienced engineers for the new Civic Engineering Bureau of Borogrod. Any interested persons are to provide a reference and a written letter of intent to the offices of the High Hall, addressed to the Lady's Office directly.

House Eomane is seeking a musical tutor for their daughter, Nysene. Applicants are to be no younger than 25, and must have a certificate of a recognised bardic college.

The High Priests of Gond are seeking goldsmiths for a research project. Any applicants are to provide a masterpiece as evidence of their skill to the High Engineer Nikolai Tesslov.

Master Caldwell is looking for an art curator, for his private art collection. He receives interested people at his manor in three days' time, at half past four in the afternoon.

Irene Redlocks is seeking brave adventurers and experienced sailors for a private expedition. Interested people are to contact Captain Arnold "the Black" Cornington at his offices on Freighter's Finger Pier. 

Ivan Hlath is looking for experienced veterans to serve as his private bodyguards. Applicants are to address themselves to Hlath manor within a fortnight."

After reading through the list of offers, Harper carries on towards the Grayharbour, making sure to walk past the warehouse district. Borogrod 

The harbor’s most immediately striking feature is its machinery, with dozens of enormous cranes and countless powered scoops and cargo carts dramatically accelerating the loading and unloading process. Though designed by the Church of Gond, these marvels are run by the Harborhands, the most powerful crew in the city thanks to the dockworkers’ ability to shut off the city’s economic lifeblood with a strike. Managing the whole affair is Harbormaster Darus Kelinoth runs the port’s operations and taxation from a small, heavily fortified brick building set well apart from other structures.

The port itself is a tangle of piers, floating docks, and anchorages, from the massive Freighter’s Finger pier catering to the heaviest barges to the more ordinary slips at Northtree or Commonsdock. Not actually attached to shore, the chaotic Flotilla is the city’s cheapest long-term moorage option, where boats are welcome to raft together around common anchor buoys, and where some houseboats haven’t moved in generations. A special division of the Flaming Fist called the Gray Wavers patrols the harbor. The entire area surrounding the harbour is a busy amalgam of taverns, inns, warehouses, supply stores, and gambling dens. Strolling through the streets, it is almost impossible what belongs here and what doesn't- you witness as a large river barge filled with timber is cleared in just over two hour. At this speed, it's difficult to spot anything that isn't out of place. After studying the Harborhands for a while though, you start to see a pattern to the chaos, and start to see that the goods are being brought to different warehouses, seemingly at random, until you notice the guild emblems on the warehouses. 

Observing regular goods though, you decide, isn't going to get you closer to where confiscated goods were likely to be kept. Try as you might though, as you walk around the harbour, you see that the harborhands seem to have free access to all the warehouses you've seen. That leaves the option to either ask a harborhands foreman what they know, or to conclude either that the harbourhands that helped clear that shipment are either collaborating, or that the harbourhands don't know of the shipment and that it was cleared by people outside of their organisation- something the Harbourhands guildmembers would probably not be happy about, since they rely on their monopoly status.

Terin notes at least two of the jobs, the Eomane's are already in some got water thanks to their daughter, perhaps getting access to the family might help to better understand the situation. The Caldwell family would not hurt to be inside of, especially as a curator. Access to the art world among the city could be a decent source of revenue.

Both would require some forged documents courtesy of Sparks.Terin attempts to recall what the two families are best known for.

As far as the warehouse situation Terin frowned. He would need to find a foreman, while comfortable enough in the art of speaking, the Half-Elf is first to admit he knows more about the floral composition of wine over goods transportation. He would have to take care with his approach. He went on, looking for someone he could see that was above a mere hand.

Terin recalls that the Eomane's have built a fortune around scents and perfumes, owning one of the most successful brands across Corphyra, as well as having several stakes in local northern industry in the form of fish- and whale oil processors used to make lamp oil and industrial lubricants, although the family was very keen to keep that association hidden behid the far more sophisticated image of the perfumers of emperors that they were known as.

The Caldwells on the other hand come from old Brelish money, and are a truly international family, the Zhivarg branch of which was mostly involved with the Zhivargo East Expeditionary Company, established by the family five generations ago, and engaging primarily with overseas trade and international finance. Within Borogrod, they are mostly known as philanthropists and patrons of the arts, with the majority of the art museums in the city owned or funded by the Caldwell Family Trust.

Observing the harborhands at work, it was easy spotting the foremen as those who barked orders and ensured their crew's safety, as they were busy clearing the trade barges. After a while longer though, you notice two rather out of place individuals, being scrawny scribe--types, rather than the burly musclemen that made up the harborhands. Seeing some of the foremen begrudgingly listen to them, it seems that they are at least officially in charge of operations here.

Unwilling to work for the benefit of the Imps at her mother's tavern, Lia had no choice but to look for work in the city, since Landon had been conscripted and forced to use his skills for the development of new weapons to help the imps in their efforts. Reading through the Borogrod Mouthpiece, the co-opted trash that passed as "news", she took a mental note of the job openings. Though most were jobs for some patriars, a few of them looked rather promising, particularly if she wanted to get helpful information for their operations in the future: 

The Bormul family is searching for trained service personnel for their upcoming name day feast. Former references required. Applicants should announce their interest to head butler Anatol Konilov, residing at the family manor.

Duke Vanthampur is looking for engineers for the new Civic Engineering Bureau of Borogrod. Residence in Seatower desired. Any interested persons are to provide a reference and a written letter of intent to the offices of the High Hall, addressed to the Lady's Office directly.

The High Priests of Gond arein need of research assistants. Any applicants are to address themselves to High Engineer Nikolai Tesslov at the Hall of Wonders.

Irene Redlocks is seeking brave adventurers and experienced sailors for a private expedition. Interested people are to contact Captain Arnold "the Black" Cornington at his offices on Freighter's Finger Pier. 

Ivan Hlath is looking for experienced veterans to serve as his private bodyguards. Applicants are to address themselves to Hlath manor within a fortnight.

The Mouthpiece is always looking for talented journalists, editors, and illustrators. Any applicants are to address themselves to the Eastway Offices, between 8 and 15 hours, Monday to Thursday."

Shades, you and the two dwarfs are put out on the street, where the incredulous one quickly turns into the narrow alley behind the tavern to violently throw up. The other meanwhile seems to have cleared a bit, and, with some distrust, carries on: "Two days ago, down y the pier… I'd been helpin' out wi' the harbourhands, an' late in the ev'nin', we was ready ta pack up an' head home, suddenly there's four Fist patrolmen, tell us ta help unload a special crate. We do as they said, nothin' special. Only, I'm thinkin', tha's a large crate… wha' in the hells are they transportin', an' why be so hush-hush 'bout it all? They had us take the crate, unner guard, up close to the Citadel, an' then we was told ta stop, near wha looked like some stables. They wanted us ta lave, like, but i snuck back to see wi' me own peepers wha' they were havin' us carry. An' there, in the middle of the stable, there's this 'forged, at least six feet tall an' bronze, an' fierce-lookin' like, but wi' some scrapes an' dents, as if it had seen combat, you know? Anyway, I could tell they was afraid of it too. It gave me a proper fright, an' I didn't want ta be caught snoopin', so I legged it back 'ome. One of me buddies the next day though, he tells me tha' he'd seen units like that. He's a veteran o' the Thrane expedition, an' he said they was sometimes used as scoutin' units or sharpshooters, deadly for up to a mile… Bu' that other knucklehead says I must 've imagined it all. Juss' some drunk ravin', 'e says. Well, do I look like a liar to ya?" The dwarf takes a combative stance, fists at the ready, before he staggers and has to prop himself up against the wall. " Anyways, that's wha' I've seen."

Terin clasps his hands together in front of him and approaches the scribes, "Good day gentlemen. Quite a day for entertaining the rabble is it not? I am awfully glad I have found you, I have been searching high and low for proper individuals who can help me."

One of the officials, with a raised eyebrow, gave Terin a look over: "Which master? Please, we haven't got all day here…", with the other soon interjecting "Marik, let off. Apologies for my colleague, you must be new to the city if you've come to the Harbour for proper individuals. How may we help your master?"

"Oh no, not new," he started with a fake naive chuckle, "I just decided to come myself for the first time to peruse my holdings but I got desperately turned around. I recently had a, well, a rather sensitive shipment delivered." Terin leaned in conspiratorially, "The Fists even helped secure it. If you know what I mean."

"Ah, yes...what about it? As far as I'm aware the receipt was signed and everything's in order. Who'd you have help you with the delivery?"

"Yes the receipt was delivered but I would like to look in on the delivery myself and simply cannot find my way," shrugs innocently. "I have had one bad encounter after another and that simply has done nothing to satisfy me and my opinion of this district. I require a guide please."

Lia considered that there were a few good options for her.  She decided to apply for three of them, and see what shook out.  She puts together a letter for the new Civic Engineering Bureau of Borogrod. She then stops by the Hall of Wonders to learn more about the research assistants position.  Then she drops by The Mouthpiece to check into that one as well.

Terin, roll for deception, with advantage.

Lia, in thinking about your letter, and doing a little research on Duke Thalamra Vanthampur, you learn that Lady Vanthampur is a cunning matriarch with neves of steel, and a barrel-like body, large forearms, tough hands and coarse skin belying her humble beginnings as a manual labourer. Her youth was spent in the cellars and sewers of Baldur’s Gate, repairing pipes and clearing out the city’s filth. Thalamra rose from such lowly work to become the minister of the city’s sewers and waterworks, proving not only stubborn and tenacious, but also innovative and driven in her solutions. Now she dresses in the finery that suits her station as a duke of Baldur’s Gate.

As you enter the Hall of Wonders, you are struck by the sheer amount of creative chaos within. You see lockboxes cleverly disguised as ordinary furniture; a self-winding clock using glass bubbles filled with different concentrations of air that rise or sink according to changes in the atmospheric pressure; a hand-cranked Eliciter, producing a static charge; a Brelish telelith, allowing for communication across vast distances through sets of paired magical stones; a steam-operated mechanical orchestra; a steam “dragon” powering a heavy engine for moving immense weights; and elaborate orreries and nautical tools. Small cards posted beneath each display indicate the purpose of these curious tools and credit the inventors and lands of origin, where known. Seeing you wander between the curious, you are approached by a gnome with thick goggles and spiky tufts of hair, standing off in all directions. After a brief conversation with Tesslov, you learn that he is testing a new prototype of the telelith, and that he required his assistant to be discreet, as he feared that the Fist would confiscate his work, leaving the inspiration given to him by Gond to simply dissipate uselessly. Before leaving, he also shows Lia how the Eliciter works, making her hair stand on end. The gnome engineer had clearly taken a liking to Lia, and he encourages her to come back the next day for “important work”.

After the temple, Lia follows the winding alleys around the Grayharbour and heads to Eastway, where she approaches the offices of the Mouthpiece. As you approach the building, you see two Watchmen scrubbing some painted slogan off the wall. You think it might have read: “What good is a mouthpiece without a message?”  The two barely give you any notice, as you step into the building. Expecting to hear the hum of activity, clacking of setters preparing the plates, and cutters setting up the sheets, and already able to smell the printer’s ink, you are stunned by the deserted silence you find inside. Apart from three people and a secretary, sitting listlessly at their desks, the place was empty, and in a terrible state of disrepair. Surprised to gind someone here, the secretary looks up at you: “Uhh... how ... what can I do for you?”

"Hmm..."  Lia says with a frown.  "I am here to check in on the open position...  What happened?"

With that, a rotund, sweaty, and balding halfling sitting at one of the desks arranged some papers to clear a space: “Please, please, sit... I’m sorry, uhm, just... here” as he hands you his own chair, lacking any others nearby. “I’m Ettvard Needle, owner and chief editor of the mouthpiece... or what’s left of it. I just... I wanted to look out for my people you know? The employees, and then the other citizens. I knew we’d have to adjust some stories, that we’d be going through difficult times... But the Fist are killing the paper... Despite everything, I couldn’t afford to keep half of my staff... and the other half was either intimidated by the Fists coming by to the office, or Unbowed smashing their windows and torching their houses for “collaborating with the enemy”. I honestly don’t blame’em for leaving, I would too, if it wasn’t everything I had... Well, we’re struggling on, trying to get the news to the people, without exposing them to the risk of having to find underground papers and risk deportation if found reading them. I’m sorry, but the ad must have been missed, since I have no more editors and barely any reporters. I mean, it’s true that you could work here, but I have barely enough to pay the rent for this place, I won’t be able to pay you, for the foreseeable future.”

"Well..."  Lia says as she considers this news.  it would be a good place to hear rumors and get information, so that might be payment enough.  "I have a couple things I am doing, but, if you would let me work here part-time, I would be willing to do so without pay until you can afford to do so."