The Leonin sits on a pile of trash, deep in thought. He goes to rub his nose before remembering he plugged his nostrils with crushed incense and instead scratches his head, not wanting to disturb them.
"So, just to be clear," he says, his eyes looking up at the double peg-legged dwarf. "You believe that there are Elves—"
"Not that there ARE Elves," Trikelts interjects. "ALL the Elves. And they're in league with them fey goblins that I been seein' stealin' people's biscuits."
"I see," the Leonin says before crossing his arms. "And this is what you told the gang that was here earlier?"
"I couldn't trust 'em with the fey goblin stuff. They jus' wanted to know about how I survived the Leviathan. I told 'em about that Mustard Cloak Cult."
"Yes, you mentioned those Dijon Delinquents... Perhaps they were, Vinegary Vagrants?"
Suddenly, the swirling sphere around the Leonin and Trikelts dissipates, and the Leonin sighs.
"Your fancy truth spell is over then? Well why don't you fuck off? Being found twice in one day... I gotta move to a different area of the Sewers now. I just got used to these smells..."
"Good day, citizen. You may want to hire some sort of maid service," the Leonin says as he stands and turns to walk through the curtain. "Possibly an arsonist."
The Aasimar is waiting on the other side, looking down the wooden paths going deeper into the sewer society.
"It seems his story corroborates other things we've heard about there being a cult," the Leonin says to her. "If there is indeed an ungodly influence, it's a good thing we have interjected ourselves."
"Yes sir," the Aasimar says, her eyes focusing on the other sewer residents. "And what of the Smuggler and his gang?"
"He said the Smuggler promised him double what he owed if he didn't mention his contract with the Merchants Guild."
There is a flash of warmth in her eyes as she breaks focus to look at her superior.
"Well now, that's interesting," she says, thinking for a moment and rustling through internal notes she filed away somewhere in her mind.
Her thinking is quickly interrupted by a street urchin running up to them.
"Hey lady! I found and followed those people you mentioned, but I got made by the bird man and had to bang a u-ey to get out of there," they say, seemingly disappointed in themselves. "But the priest guy treated some people's wounds before they talked to toothpicks in there. Then they headed to the busted door, but that's broken so they probably climbed out or went back to the northie entrance."
"The people he treated, did he do so for any sort of payment of information? Are you sure he wasn't torturing them?" she asked, still processing all this information.
"Nah, they said they tried to thank him and pick his pockets, but he wanted nothing in return and got out of there before anything could happen."
The Aasimar is deep in thought for a few minutes before realizing the urchin has their hand out. She reaches into a pouch and tosses them a few coins, and they run off. She turns to the Leonin.
"Seems as though they are not new members of his gang, but I'm still unsure of their motivations," she says as her eyes again begin to focus on their next destination and she sets off. "Perhaps agents of another involved party?"
"I hear that biscuit stealing fey goblins may have thrown their hat in the ring," the Leonin adds as he follows.