Burning Questions

I mulled over how to approach the merchant Borlia.  Knowing he was involved in this whatever this was had me a bit leery (I mean I didn't know the exact story behind whats going on, but I had almost been eaten, that proves they aren't playing around). I decided to follow him for a couple days and extend my merchant contacts to try and figure out at least his involvement.  Thankfully unlike my previous attempts at locating the possibly not actually missing hunter my merchant contacts were a lot easier to read and get info from (amazingly dealing with business people about other business people is easier then shady jerks who just want to kill you, as always money is the great uniter).

Borlia was a thin waif of a man with a high voice and missing hair.  He was middle aged and normally dealt in spices.  As of late he'd been getting in rather large barrels labeled "spices" but most of the merchants were under the impression he had joined the slave trade (major no no), none of them had any proof, but when they approached about potentially new spices he'd always insist they were already sold to someone other mysterious buyer. Borlia himself was a creature of habit, he seemed to eat at the same places, leave around the same times, and despite looking constantly parnoid never caught on that I was following him.  A couple under the table payments later and I had him drugged and tied up in his own bed  (turn about is fair play, I would have tied him to the ceiling but honestly? I don't know how to do that without like breaking my own neck). A couple slaps later and he awoke with a startled glare and a futile attempt to free himself.

"Morning Borlia," It was actually fairly late, but you know it seemed like the right thing to say at the time.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Sweat had already beaded on his forehead, or that could have been a remnant of the drug I'd used to knock him out.

"Information Borlia, I was recently almost deceased and I'm lead to believe you are involved with the ones responsible for that. I'd like to know more about their operation." It was a simple request really, alas.

"I don't even know you or who would try and kill you, let me go you have the wrong guy!" They always say that (sometimes they are right, but everyone is guilty of something!)

"You know Borlia I want to believe you, I really do, unfortunately I don't think you're telling me the truth," I drew my dagger at this point, Borlia followed me with his eyes terror written all over his face,"Fire is the great cleansor Borlia, I've always believed that, its also a hell of a way to inflict punishment while keeping someone alive." I heated the dagger with my right hand, it worked great for effect (most people always have a latent fear of magic users), then hovered the end of the dagger over one of his eyes, he closed them in fear (not that closing your eyes does much here other then block the site of it).

"What do you want to know!" He screamed out in frustration, he almost lifted his head right into the dagger, that would have been accidentally hilarious. I withdrew the dagger and smiled.

"What are you shipping in your barrels? Its certainly not spices, if you try and tell me spices I'll take out your eye."

"Body parts!" Grotesque.

"What for?" My mind was lost here, body parts was not what I expected.

"I don't know they just pay me to keep quiet and keep the shipments going, I'm just a middleman here you have to believe me I don't even know you." He was sincere, I wondered if Tolar already knew what Borlia was bringing in, but just wanted me to know it as well.

"Where do you take the shipments?"

"They'll kill me!" Everyone also always says this, like the current person doing things to you will let you live if you don't tell them something, immediate problems first people!

"They'll only kill you, me? I'll let you live for a time, I got a lot of time on my hand Borlia, and I've been in prison and a slave, trust me I've learned things you wish you'd never know about, but you'll find all about if you don't tell me where you take the shipments." He talked, they usually do (now that I'm a necromancer its even easier, if they don't tell you while their alive just take it from them in death, not that I had that skillset at the time, though it does make me laugh at my primative extraction techniques thinking back on them), he delivered his barrels to a local house outside of the merchant district, he didn't know where they went from there. I thanked him for his time and left, he kept screaming about being let go or something  (yeah like I'd do that for him to tip off his conspirators).  I figured I'd tell a guard in a couple days about his activities after I'd checked out the drop off point (Tolar has not really given me a way of contacting him, probably best in case I got captured again). Probably a mean thing to do to someone, but its not like Borlia had much of a life left ahead of him (he doesn't really factor in for the rest of the story so I'll just tell you, he was found ripped apart a week after the events I'm relating here, so I kind of forgot about telling a guard, but he probably was killed about a day after I left, probably).

Tomorrow I'll write my memory of a place I'd rather forget forever. OMINOUS!