Sitting in a corner of the Dwarven Tea Room, Apple is pouring over, no pun intended, different scrolls. Some seem to have blood on them, others have ichor, none of them smell all that great in the least.

Belmar Axegrinder comes over to her table, and she looks up. With one word, the man leaves. “No!” is the word she uses. She is finding this word has a lot of power. Apple used it on a cat person earlier in the day when they came up to her and she knew they wanted sex. She looked at the creature, says ‘No!’ in a very firm voice, and the creature scurried away. Apple enjoyed the newfound power of this word.

Sin Delight, the fortune teller from the Vulgar Camel, walked in and slid next to Apple and peered at the scrolls that Apple seemed so interested in. “What’s up, buttercup?” Sin asked Apple. Apple looked up from her reading and twitched her nose a bit. “I don’t get it, you dress like a three silver piece trollop, you show off cleavage, ankles and men never ask you to sleep with them. I dress like a desert nun and men seem to think I am here with my legs spread all the day long.” Sin laughs. “Oh, buttercup, it is really simple, they see my wares and feel that I must be putting out for someone, when they say something ridiculous, I give them an icy stare and remind them I’m a witch and I can put a pox on their manhood, and it will fall right off. You give them a look that said no, but they only hear ‘maybe later’.”

Apple mutters, “I need a pox on your wiener spell, I tell you.” Sin giggles and makes a note to look one up for Apple. “So, whatcha readin there, oh Sagay one?” Apple looks up and grumbles. “You know I hate it when you act street around me. Leave your act in the Camel, OK?” Sin sighs, “Fine, I will act like a high-class lady then.” With an exaggerated air. “So, would you like some tea and a cucumber sandwich? How about a scone? Lavender tea, my pretty?” Apple rolled her eyes. Axegrinder heard the tea and sandwich order and soon the beverage and food arrived at the table. Sin waved her left hand. “Thank you, my good dwarf. You are a host of manners and a debonair way.” Apple sighed.

Sin munched loudly on the quarter of the cucumber sandwich, then spoke with her mouth full. “So, again, what you got, Buttercup?”

Apple threw some scrolls down on the table. “I really don’t know. I mean, I know what the words say, but they all make little sense.” Sin made a ‘c’mon,’ gesture. “Well, you know that red dragonborn got kidnapped by those wererats, right? Well, he didn’t. he got kidnapped by something called ‘The Cult of the Dragon.’” Sin thought for a moment. “You mean the wererats the judge person and that barbarian guy murdered underneath this very building?”

They both looked at Axegrinder. “Hey, don’t look at me.” The dwarf said loudly. “I had no idea anything was under that part of the building. I have a little space under the kitchen for emergencies and some supplies. Must be pre-empire stuff.” Both women looked at the dwarf and rolled their eyes.

Sin looked at Axegrinder and wiggled her fingers at him. “If you are telling me a fib Sir Dwarf, I will shrivel your member.” Axegrinder put his hands up in the air. “I swear, I had no idea. I swear on my beard.” The two women looked at one another, then nodded. They seemed to accept that answer.

“I don’t know how you didn’t smell that smell. Was down there for five minutes in that ‘room’, the one with all the dead bodies, and I can tell you I smelled it. I still smell it.” Sin looked at Apple. “You’re weird down there with those dead bodies like that.” “Hey, Sin, not one of those women, the dead ones asked me once to sleep with them, so I feel more at home with the dead then I do with the living.” Apple shrugged, “Plus I find all of this,” pointing to the papers and scrolls, “Oh, and I found this, too.” She plopped a leather pouch on the table and Sin heard the clink of coins. “How much of a take?” Apple shrugged a bit, “Not a big haul, like 100 silvers and double that in copper, more though than I would see in a year working at the Camel.” Sin whistled “Nice haul, I don’t make that much, well without a wealthy patron. I’m thinking about hitting up that Barbarian fellow. He looks like he could use someone telling him about his future. Hubba, Hubba.”

Sipping some of the lavender tea, Sin sat up a little, as if an idea had come into her head. “Wait a moment, you said the wererats didn’t work for the Cult of the Dragonborn?” “Cult of the Dragon,” Apple replies, “I think they were going to sacrifice the red dragonborn, the white one too if they could get their hands on him.” Sin waved her hands, suggesting this wasn’t important. “Who did the wererats work for, then?” She pointed to one paper. “Slavers. Seems there are slavers out in the desert.”

Sin, still looking confused. “What about those weird people hanging out in the cemetery? And what about old Three Eyes?” Apple shrugged. “Hey, I don’t have all the answers yet.”

Apple just opened her mouth when Bili Flagon ran into the tearoom. “Malcom Three Eyes is dead!”