Gathering Intel in Cadmium

 The stench of sulfur permeated the air long before the trio arrived at the lake’s fishing town known as Cadmium. As much as it would have been nice to think that they could just ease their way into getting used to the aroma by gradually pacing themselves up to the lake, they were fools for hoping. The lake was filled with ochre-hued water. The color had a way of extending beyond the lake, which in a way made the town aptly named. The adventurers decided to split up while gathering information. The rogue went and chatted with the local fishermen. The priestess checked out the meager market. The wayfarer went to determine the costs of purchasing and renting a boat.

They had only been in Cadmium for a few short hours, but they hadn’t arrived at dawn. They met up at dusk just outside of town and discussed what they had learned while scouting for a good place to set up camp. Preferably as far from the stench as possible. “From what I gathered, their main source of trade here is the smoulder fish,” Hector started, though he wasn’t able to fully explain without being interrupted by Ysolt with a series of questions, “Smoulder fish?” “Yes,” he sighed. “It’s a yellow fish with grey stripes. It’s the only thing aside from that dragon that thrives off of the sulfur in the water. Well, along with the seaweed it ea-” “Where sulfur from?” Ysolt interjected again, barely giving the shorter man the chance to finish his explanation about the fish. “They think it’s either from a volcanic vent or the dragon’s breath.” “Sea Dragon not breathe fire?” Ysolt was full of questions, which caused Trystan to chuckle as he kept his visual focus on the terrain around them. Hector was not amused. “Not all dragons breathe. Especially not dragons that live in the water,” he said, sounding a little irritated before he continued with the information he learned. “Whatever the case might be, those fish are inedi-” “Why fish if inedible?” Ysolt was quickly getting on the rogue’s nerves with how she kept talking over him. “Mages Guild,” Hector stated curtly enough for the priestess to quiet down for a moment.

“That’s right,” Trystan thought aloud, elaborating so their shorter companion could take a moment to calm himself. “The fish are highly sought after by mages. If the rumors are true, there’s something about the sulfur in the fish’s livers that helps with their spells and experiments. Smoulder fish fetch a very high price, which explains why Cadmium manages to survive as a town. The lake and the river attached are likely the only means of catching this breed of fish,” the wayfarer explained before pausing to take in a deep breath. The repulsive aroma still lingered in the air, but it was not nearly as pungent. “I don’t think we should dare tread any further away. Not if we want to get an early start tomorrow,” Trystan suggested before asking their female companion, “What did you learn at the market?”

As they set up camp, Ysolt relayed what she could remember, “Market small. Dismal. Nothing but fish and silver nuggets.” Which meant that it had also wreaked to high heaven. “So that’s where they’re getting the silver,” Hector responded as he unpacked the pot and some of their provisions. “What do you mean?” Trystan asked as he prepared the fire. “The fishermen say that the dragon loves silver, so every month they’ll toss a nugget into the lake,” the rogue explained, sniffing at some dried fruit they happened to have and later wishing that it was fresh and fragrant. “How fortunate for us, then,” the freckled man smirked as he glanced over to Ysolt, reminding her of what they found in the gorlock’s lair. “What do you mean?” Hector asked as the priestess dug through her gear and pulled out the nugget of silver. “Silver nugget!” Ysolt cackled triumphantly.

Over dinner, the wayfarer shared how much it would cost to rent a boat. 15 shards, and it came with a fishing net, because it was assumed that they’d be going out to fish. “It can’t hurt to see if we can catch something while searching for the dragon’s lair. Earn us a little extra cash,” Trystan suggested before Ysolt chimed in, “Or earn us bigger favor from Oliphard.” Slow nods were shared with that thought. Sadly, dinner wasn’t as appetizing as they hoped.