Things started off this day, as they do many days, with a bit of torture back at Sir Horatio's.
Having decided that the fop/rat was worth bringing back for questioning, they tied the feral thing up and brought it back to Sir Horatio's, to some dark corner of the Habitat where the bear minimum of questions would be asked. Well, the bare minimum of questions would be asked about the questioning of the fop/rat, and listen, you get the idea, they hid him away so they wouldn't get into any more trouble than they were already in.
They grilled the unfortunate lycanthrope for a short while about why Nesterfettle had sent him, how much he was getting paid, all manner of unimportant questions that novice interrogators are prone to ask. Frustrated, the Arrow began threatening to cut off the rat's ear, though Durgin protested that those extreme measures weren't necessary. Still, feeling a need to do something about the situation, the Arrow belted the bound lycanthrope, and was rewarded with a strange sensation in the back of his head.
The sensation started off as a tickle, then grew to something between a sneeze and a cough, and then escalated into unimaginable seering pain. By the expressions on the rest of the party, they had been suffering from the same thing, as they began to stagger about the room in inexplicable agony. But, they soon discovered, when they staggered in a certain direction, the pain subsided.
"You're comin' with us!" Savina growled at the bound rat, as the lot of the party staggered out of Sir Horatio's and towards the source of relief.
So, imagine the scene, as a dwarf, elf, githyanki, shadar-kai and half-elf walk half-drunk with pain through the Great Bazaar, as they drag a bound and gagged lycanthrope in a chair behind them, like they're going to market. Surprisingly, they got a considerably less stares than they thought they would get during this process, and found themselves, finally, at their destination. A small building with a placard reading quite simply "Jysson".
Entering in, they dragged the rat inside to continue their questioning, now that their headaches had subsided. None of them had even thought to ask around the building to see if anyone that may have been responsible for inflicting that level of pain was waiting around for them. Most of them had their own pain to dish out now, and they certainly had more questions for the rat. Why did you bring us here? Do you know this place? Why did you bring us here if you don't know this place?
And so it went, until a meager voice called out from the darkness of the office (which the building seemed to function as, with all the logs and journals laying around, collecting a copious amount of dust). "I'm terribly sorry," the voice went on, "I didn't expect the process to be so painful for you." When the party went to investigate the voice (keeping tight reigns on their wererat guest), they discovered a small grey cat, which had hopped up from a hiding space and perched on a nearby table. When asked if he was the one that brought them there, the cat simply replied, "Nope. Yer lookin' for the Book."
With that, a large leather tome opened all on it's own, a human visage on the pages seeming to speak to the group, which, if you took Haxxium's immediate reaction, was kind of creepy. The Book explained that it had brought them there, through its humble little magics, and apologized for "pulling too hard". The Book promptly offered them a job, which, after some negotation, the party accepted, so long as they could finish their business with the rat first. The Book, having no means of locomotion, didn't really have any qualms with that, though the Cat seemed a bit impatient. But, he would have to wait to explain why, as the part was just ENAMORED with this damned wererat.
After a few more pointed questions, and the location of where the wererat was supposed to meet his contact (the Tenth Pit Tavern, for those at home keeping track), they eventually decided to cut him loose, though the Arrow intended on following him to the contact. Before they could cut him loose, there was a knock at the door.
"Are we expecting anyone else?" the Cat asked the Book. The Book simply fluttered it's pages, the best it could come to a shrug.
Haxxium bravely opened the door, where he met eyes with a diminuative little imp, flanked by two much larger horned figures. Raising his hand in the universal "give me just one minute" signal, he quickly closed the door again, and turned back to the party, saying that they had company.