Salvation Outpost

You make your way down Main Street to the bustling hub of the salvage market. Here scavengers, scrappers, chancers and relic hunters of all races seek the highest price for their Cyran discoveries. Items of every shape size and purpose abound everywhere you look.

As you enter the market, you overhear an older human man arguing with a drow over the price of several ornate swords. "If they’re worth so much more in Sigilstar, take them there yourself! My offer is final. I don’t have all day. Take it or make room for the next in line.", he says stubbornly in a scratchy, nasal voice.
Draev Shaldor is known to be the most miserly of the brokers in Salvation. He rarely pays top gold, but is known for moving difficult to sell items.

Across from Draev, a woman with silver hair that contrasts with her young face is haggling with a tall brutish looking orc. She’s inspecting a glowing blue shortsword on her table. Her voice is is slithery, almost hypnotic as she says to the orc, "Come now, Dhakk. We both know my offer is more than fair. I have to find the right buyer and that takes time. Meanwhile, my gold is tied up."
The orc grunts and nods begrudgingly.
"Excellent! You are a wise orc, my handsome friend." Irullan is clearly a wealthy woman. Rumours of her dealings are whispered in the corners of Salvation. None of them are good. Their conversation continues as you approach the last broker.

A shrewd looking goblin woman with a missing ear is barking orders to a teenage goblin girl with goggles on her head. Her crackly voice continues as you approach, "…and make sure that bumbling oaf couriers it to the right place this time.". The younger goblin nods quickly and dashes out with a small package in hand.

Belaluur looks at your group, noticing you for the first time. "Well hello gentlemen,", she says brightly. "What brings you to my little corner of the market?"

"Yes, yes, of course, Earic, he’s been missing since yesterday. He never stays overnight in the Grey. The poor dear is afraid of ghosts.", she chuckles for a moment before looking around and lowering her voice, "It’s best if we discuss this in private."

She takes your group through a curtain to her back room. It’s cramped, clearly designed for diminutive folk. Once inside, Beleluur continues in a hushed, more serious voice, "I apologize, too many ears out there. Earic has a keen ability for finding important artifacts of Cyre. He’s been very successful at it these past couple of years. He said this one would be his greatest discovery yet."
She pauses for a moment, very obviously sizing up your group. "Of course, having only just met you, it would be unwise of me to share too much just yet."

She reaches into her cloak and takes out a small map, giving it you. "Earic is a half-elf. Tall, slim, pale skinned with freckles and bright red hair, bless him. He has a large mark of storm on the right side of his neck and face. He was heading to the remains of Plymdonwood. Cyre had a large army posted there and it’s now a popular place for scavenging. The trail isn’t hard to follow. It’s about half a day’s journey north into the Grey. I’ve marked on the map where Earic said he would be. If you bring him back in one piece, I’ll pay you fifty gold each. Do we have a deal?"

"You said Earic possess a Storm Mark, does he have any relation with the Houses?"