A book and many things to do

[Anastasia]

"I know the way, you don't," Bastian reasons quite calmly, as moving the ash reveals a heavy stone trap door.

As he goes to it, "Never try to open it directly," Bastian says, instead going about two feet to the left of it. He stomps his foot down three times, and on the third time the trap door pops open.

[Iron Dragoon]

"Are you taking point or am I?"

[Anastasia]

Bastian's answer is to fly right in and call, "Follow me."

[Iron Dragoon]

Alyssa does so!

[Anastasia]

Down several stories of stairs - and as you go, it gets warmer again. Down and down and down...until opens up. A grand underground place, dozens of tents, wagons, impromptu structures of wood and metal and more aside. Riff raff from across the planes wander here - from mortals to immortals to odder things yet, a melange of things on a single glance.

"The Stacks," Bastian says. "Three rules. One, you don't ask any nosy questions about people. Two, you don't attack anyone or settle grudges here. Three, no cold magic."

[Iron Dragoon]

"Interesting. You know people here, then?"

[Anastasia]

"Maybe. People come and go," Bastian admits, as you take a breath of the clean air, no storm of ash within here. "You're safe here, safer than in most cities and settlements on other planes. Just remember the three rules."

[Iron Dragoon]

"Mmm... Are we meeting someone here, or just sightseeing?"

[Anastasia]

"No," Bastian says, "Did you already forget why we came here?"

[Iron Dragoon]

"To scout. But you haven't told me why we've come here, specifically."

[Anastasia]

"Scout information," Bastian says shortly, "Talk to people, see if anyone knows anything. Scouting isn't just creeping in undergrowth and spying on enemy forces."

[Iron Dragoon]

"Show me, then. I research and have met people, but typically it's through brokers."

[Anastasia]

Bastian nods and leads you to a large tent with a handful of people sitting around. Several casks of booze are here, the smell of it strong.

One creature is a green, warty troll. Unlike most it is absolutely bald, rippling muscle otherwise and a rough, battered greataxe sitting by it. It drinks from a tankard, wearing a loincloth and boots.

The next is a dwarf, drinking up. No beard, just a stubble of red hair on his head. He's missing an arm, his one good arm gripping his cup with a death grip. He wears well worn clothes, no armor or weapon around him.

The third is a hound archon, nursing a small glass of something clear as water. His expression is pensive, eyes unfocused. A chain shirt and scimitar rest besides him, along with a belt lined with pouches.

The fourth is a stranger sight yet - a sahuagin, except with dead white skin, flaky and peeling all over. He wears plain clothes, dirty and torn, andcarries no weapon either. He at least looks up from his drinking, a nod to the two of you.

The fifth and last is an efreet, drinking up with abandon. He wears rich if stained clothes, head bowed in between gulps. He twitches regularly, thick and fat cheeks showing signs of sinking in, of loss, hints of hanging skin on his forearms.

Bastian tosses a handful of gold coins to the casks, "Whomever is selling, I'm buying," he announces.

The efreet looks up with bleary eyes, stumblingly using his mug to get the coins to him, spilling ale everywhere. "Drink," he slurrs out, a few more mugs by the casks. Bastian goes and fills two glasses to the brim, passing one to you as everyone gets refills.

[Iron Dragoon]

Alyssa takes it and subtly inspects those in the tent before speaking to the efreet.

"Displaced by the recent regime change?"

[Anastasia]

Bastian kicks back at this, drinking up.

A long, bleary look at you again, "Fucking Faheem," The efreet slurrs.

"Idiot," The hound archon snaps, a growl after, "You got him going AGAIN." He then says something in a language you don't know and is only translated by your magic, harsh and cruel and sounding entirely unkind about you, your mother and your dietary habits relating to certain parts of your mother.

The troll shrugs and drinks, not saying a word.

"Father said it every day like pearls of wisdom: Faheem is a hold over gone traitor. He was for us with the Crimson Firebrand around, but now he's nothing but a devil lapdog! Now he's gone and taken control." Another full gulp, more booze gotten before he goes back to drinking. "Trash! A thousand curses on his house, may him and all of his be neutered by a rusty hook!"

"Yeah," Bastian's kicking back now, "Worthless pile of shit." Having a long sip of his ale, "You the only one who got away?"

The efreet shudders at that, throwing his mug down, booze spilling out. "I'll kill him. I'LL KILL HIM FOR FATHER AND MY WIVES!" He rises, staggering badly, face flushed even redder than usual. Lapsing into Ignan, voice crackling like a campfire, "Scum! SCUM!" He wobbles once, twice and falls face down over his fallen drink.