Zetath thanks you again as you head toward the spice merchant. Following Erthin’s directions, the group travels through crowded streets and busy plazas with merchants offering their wares at every turn. Finally, they flow from a street into a plaza dominated by a staggeringly large gray tent decorated with sky-blue stars with a daunting wooden structure built underneath providing a second floor to the establishment. The Azure Star is known to provide the finest dining in the city, serving distinctly Katapeshi cuisine. A little after midday, it is packed and men and women are standing about waiting for a table to open. The melange of varied pleasant aromas provide you with immediate empathy toward those willing to await a table.

Instead of joining them, the group heads to a humble wooden door at the side of the plaza, bearing a wooden sign stating, “The Spice Emporium.” The interior is perhaps more modest than the name implies, especially so flagrantly contrasted to the sprawling grandeur of the Azure Star. Again the group is beset by another bouquet of pleasant odors, but this time free from grilled meats and vegetables. Hundreds of clay, ceramic, pewter, and glass jars line the walls of the shop, and two people are already within - a halfling having just collected his purchase passes you to exit, and a garundi woman just requesting some cumin and ras el hanout as you pass through the doors.

The merchant, who Erthin named as Hlaspak al Varr, is short for a gnoll, standing a bit under six and half feet. He is dressed in the long flowy robes with accents of color typical for Katapeshi citizens, with a large holy symbol to Abadar hanging from a chain about his neck. He has mostly gray fur tinted only slightly blonde, and speckled with black spots. Past his black muzzle on the right side of his face run three long massive parallel scars, guarding a small hole that is clearly all that remains of an ear based on symmetry. Above his light brown eyes sits a purple fez. He weighs the two spices on two of several scales in the establishment, loads them into a slip of parchment, trades them for the woman’s coin, and thanks her. Finally, he turns to the six of you, and says in a raspy, yet courteous voice, "my vanilla bean shipment arrived this morning - you will never find fresher unless you pick them yourself. How can I help you?"