The Scribe takes 5 gold from party treasury and hands it to him. "How did you recognize us as Pathfinders?"

He winks and says, "Musta' been a lucky guess, guv. Now there are markets throughout," and here he is walking (and we're walking, we're walking), leading you into the shadow of the Gap, "and most 'hoods got the means of getting scraps fit their way. It'll help me know where to take you if I know what you're wanting from our city. Just touring? Passing through? or specific things? A good answer from you means a great location from me."

Gav is indeed as talented a guide as he claims, and can easily give the PCs the rundown on the city and how it works, as well as finding them anything they need, from magical items (“The Wheel Unbroken is good for custom work, gov, but if you want cheap, it’s Gadka down at the corner of Fever Street and Half-a-Chicken Walk”) to the most exotic of brothels (“If you want ’em cold, it’s the White Lady up in Ankar-Te—there’s some things you just can’t do with a live girl, neh?”).

The Scribe makes a bold move verbally. "We're here seeking a specific magic item said to be hidden somewhere in the city."

"Right-o! There's prolly two best avenues of inquiry for that gov, the great library called the Therassic Spire, and the mysterious troll oracles called Augurs."

"But first," the Scribe cuts in, "we need to go to the Guildhouse of the Duskwardens in Bis to return these charms and inform them of the death of their man."

That quiets Gav some, "Poor blighter. Only fools and heroes what work at the Duskies, and those boys are full parts of the other. We on the surface owe our lives to the nutters there for keeping the monsters from coming up. Sure, guv. I'll take you."