Wait and see where Efa goes first.
Efa heads first... to the black market. She heads straight for it, almost as if she can sense where it is. The black market here is located in a cave near the edge of a city.
"I just need to check on something..."As it turns out, there is an auction going on. The current item is a spell tome. Efa's voice takes on a hushed tone as she whispers.
"I think those are printed tomes they're selling. Not that I can tell from here. Do you think you could check on their stock backstage and check the writing?"The cavern market is low and round, almost perfect for a clandestine gathering place. There are stalls and tents scattered around the middle, with storage crates and walkways around the sides. The auction is on the far side, away from the entrance, but around it there are crates and props set up which section off an area backstage. The auctioneer apparently goes backstage to retrieve his items.
There is an alternate entrance to the backstage, a clearing in the crates to either side. One side has a guard posted, but the other does not, although there's a group of cloaked figures conversing nearby.
Continue observing the man with the guitars. Also, did I not have enough time to buy the arrows and the leather armour last turn?
"A prison run by the church? I've certainly heard stranger things."
Observe the crowd around the musicians, and the musicians themselves, further.
The whole apparatus connected to the guitars produces a pleasing bass sound to accompany the guitar's high-pitched noise. The guitarists in this part of the empire have developed a musical style in which short notes are strummed together rapidly as part of an aggressive riff pattern.
This particular group of guitarists is a travelling band, and they wear costumes decorated with animal bone and spikes ripped off trees. Each one has a mask, including the singer, whose mask much resembles a peacock's plumage, although there is additionally a cone around the mouth area to project the singer's voice.
There is a gathering of clergy nearby, who seem to be contemplating whether these performers should be removed. The current consensus is non-intervention.
"Why, yes I am. I hope this is not an old grudge to be settled." Leonhard replies humorously upon being addressed by the townsman. He isn't sure what it's about; he doesn't remember anything about what he might have done to the people who've been giving him revering looks. While at first he thought it might have been a simple mistake, the fact one of them is talking to him and has mentioned his name eliminates that possibility quite efficiently.
"Nay sir!" he shouts with an exclaimed look on his face. "You led the charge against our enemies at Ackleberg. For that, we must thank you wholeheartedly!"
The locals assemble, five in total.
"You protected our town's independence," says one.
"Without you, we wouldn't be here. We'd be subject to Duke Arnauld and his treacherous ways," says another.
"But," says the first, the one to ask your name. "We do have a small favor to ask. We neglected to ask others, because well... the Tarca corp. are the only mercenaries in port. And they charge a hell of a price. We need a leader of high caliber."
He continues. "We are about to stage a protest against the Willem's Guild in front of the city hall. Some of us carry arms, to protect ourselves from the Willem's thugs, who've known our monthly protests since last year. Would you lead our forces? There will certainly be no fighting when they learn a feared mercenary is on our side!"