[34] Money for clues

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I offered 10 gold to whoever can give me clues, so I had a flurry of willing volunteers:

A rough-looking Orc with a missing tusk grunted and pointed towards a corner. "Seen someone matching your description lurking near Old Tessa's potion stall, but don't know if he's the thief."

A small, wiry dwarf holding a stack of ancient scrolls clutched his robes tighter, eyes darting around as he whispered, "I heard a man in a red cloak was flashing a gem around at The Smiling Serpent yesterday evening, but don't quote me on that."

An elf woman with silver hair and elegant features said, "An outsider, tall and lean, has been skulking around the black market for a couple of days now. He keeps to himself, always wearing a hood. Suspicious, if you ask me."

Lastly, a racoon beastkin with sharp, darting eyes approached me, his paws twitching. "You really want to find this thief?" he asked, his voice high and reedy. "There's only one person here who knows everything that's going on in the shadows. That's Rattle, the Rat King. He sees all, knows all. But beware, traveler, he doesn't part with his knowledge for cheap."

I took another 10 gold out of my pocket.

The beastkin eyes gleamed at the sight of the extra gold. "Look for the sewer grate in the north corner," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the din of the market. "Just follow the scent of rot and damp. You can't miss it. Rattle, he likes his privacy, likes the dark and the dirt. And remember, traveler, he knows more than you think."

The beastkin gnarled hands closed greedily around the gold coins. "This is a good trade, stranger," he added, his voice still soft as he scurried away, disappearing into the bustling crowd.

With the information in hand, I ventured deeper into the market, weaving my way through the crowd towards the north corner, following the directions given by the beastkin.

The rat king huh...

Q: Do you think the information is worth 10 bucks each?

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