Shiro, Izema, as you mention the kobold settlement to Nazqua the Master Trader, a lizardy grin steals across his face. "Yes," he suddenly says with a nod, "it is a terrible thing they did to this settlement, and I am glad you have brought this up. It means you are truly on the side of law and justice, not just out for greed and less-than-honorable reasons." He waves an arm, indicating his ship, then the town. "Do you know why we Sakkhara trade with these kobolds of Silgisarii? It is because we are all scale-kin. Unlike the humanoids, most scale-kin try to work together for a more harmonious existence, especially out here where we do not have to fight for land as much." Pausing, he glances at a guard and snaps his fingers. Nodding, the guard walks to the edge of the dock and drops down onto the turtle-ship. It doesn't so much as shake when he lands on it, a testament to how solid the ship must truly be. For some reason, talk suddenly changes to the weather, and to how pleasant it is that the kobolds have discovered a place to mine and are willing to trade ore for food-stuffs.
When the guard re-emerges a few minutes later, it is holding two more scrolls. Taking them from the guard, he thanks his associate and unfurls the first. Dipping his quill into an inkwell cunningly disguised as a bracelet(!), he begins to write. "I appreciate that others beyond just scale-kin are willing to work for the common good. As mentioned, I do not know where the Scro have their base, but I do know where they recruit some of their allies from. Given the description of the archers you saw, those goblins likely came from a settlement on Tayrik." Finishing his writing, he blows on the ink to dry it, then rolls up the scroll and hands it to you. Pulling out the second, he begins to write again. "That first document will grant you permission to dock a ship in Salk'nath, along with a rough map of how to find our lands on Tayrik." Quickly, he scribbles out a second message, blowing that dry and rolling it up. Handing quill and scroll to one of his guards, he snaps his fingers and conjures up a tiny flame on one digit of his left hand. He holds it to an odd bracelet on his right wrist for a moment, then snuffs the flame and removes one of the gems. A moment later you realize that the gem is, in reality, a seal-sigil, and the bracelet contains a kind of wax! A moment later the second scroll is sealed with the wax. He waves it about to dry and set the wax while casting you a mischievous grin. "This," he says, handing you the second scroll, "is a message to the Master-Diplomat in Salk'nath. Go there, give her this. She will guide you to the goblin settlement, and hopefully you will find the information you seek." Bowing as low as a seated lizardman can, he dismisses you with a blessing of his people. "May your scales stay damp, and the stars guide your destiny."
