Part One: The Gathering Storm

Jerell and Kyorlin are huddled over an old table in the corner of The Malfeasance, a bar owned by Kyorlin's cousin. They drink here every so often but today more than most the smoke seems to be hanging in the air from the smouldering fire and the little bit of sunlight that sometimes filters down into this part of the Perch seems more grey than yellow. A middle aged drow smeared with grime stumbles into the bar and looks around. When he sees the pair he shuffles up and sits down heavily with them and grunts. "Hello chums" he says, "name's Guldor. Wonderin' if you folks know enough people in these parts to help me. I've got some" and he hesitates, eyeing the pair and stealing a quick glance around the room, "good times and fine mushrooms for sale."

"Wha?" Guldor stutters, then after a moment understands Jerell's meaning.

"Gotta tell you, usually when I offer to sell something I don't expect to buy anything, but times are rough enough nowadays that I recon I can do that for ye."

He stands up and stumbles over to the bar, then returns with three steins of ale. His swaying gait tells you that not only does he sell drugs, but he takes them too. There is a common depressant called Malak that the aelfir have outlawed, he's probably on that.

Once he sits back down he stared blankly for a moment, then continues, "So! to business! I've got some great Godsmoke from Pilgrim's Walk. I suppose the best thing about a lack of business in the Works is a plentiful supply for you folks!"

He said that last bit a little too loudly, and you can see a handful of heads turn towards you for a moment, but it seems like nobody cares.

Jerell takes a hearty sip of his ale and says "First, cheers to you, a nice ale makes business go smoother. Second, you might wanna keep your voice down just the tiniest bit. The good folks in this nice establishment won't sell us out to the guard, but some might dislike the competition..."

Guldor winced a little, and lowered his voice. "To be honest, fellas, you looked like the nicest and fanciest people in this here fine establishment and I always try to work from the top down. Most can't afford a good hit of Godsmoke, so I try to keep my business to those who won't hurt for tryin'."

After a moment he cackled a little. "Of course, that don't stop me from sellin' to anyone who'll buy."

"Do you maybe have someone who can vouch for you?", Jerell asks.

Jerell looks at Guldor for a moment, trying to remember everything he can about the drug trade in the Works. It suddenly occurs to him that Godsmoke has been selling well in the Works for as long as he can remember. Last time he was down there it seemed like there was a dealer on every corner, and most of the people he knew down there he had seen with a pipe hanging out of their mouths, telltale smell of the smoke wafting from them. While thinking about this he remembered a time that he was chatting to a friend and Guldor had arrived with a neat little package for him.

"Mate!" Guldor yelled. Jerell broke out of his reverie to see Guldor looking at him expectantly and the rest of the bar looking at him quizzically. "I said I sell to the Durach family if you know them. You right there mate? Spaced out a bit there."

"Yes, yes, Durach, sure I've heard of them". Jerell sharks his head to clear his thoughts a bit. "How much...material are we talking anyway?"

Guldor looks at the two of them in surprise. "How much do you smoke? I’m not looking for competition, just looking to make your lives a little easier. God knows that a little money will make mine easier right now."

Guldor smiles and pulls a small pouch out of his bag. He pulls out a smaller, empty pouch and pours some black dust into the empty pouch. You're not sure how he measures it, but he seems content with his ability to do so on feel alone. You each flick him a few silver, and he stands, bowing.

"Many thanks, my fine fellows. Gotta say, though, if you're worried about them keeping us down, you should check out what's happening in The Works. It's a drow doing it, but it sure as shit aint good for us, so I tend to assume it came from them."

He looks a bit confused at his own stream of thought, but shakes his head, smiles again, and turns to leave.

"Hold on just a moment, what are you talking about? Who's doing what to who in The Works?"
For the first time tonight, Jerell seems excited.

Guldor stopped and turned.

"Oh, that seemed to strike a chord. I wonder if some information like that would be worth something to ya?" and he jingles the silver still in his hand