Fresh off your induction into the Society, the completion of your basic training within the organization, and then finally passing your test of Confirmation – successfully exploring and reporting as a cooperating group on the dungeon of Asad’s Keep – you find yourselves in the office of Ambrus Valsin, the venture-captain in charge of daily operations in and around the Grand Lodge. The efficient and straightforward chamberlain greets your group curtly and motions for them to sit before jumping straight into your assignment.
”All right, Pathfinders! Listen up. I know you are new recruits eager to make names for yourselves in the organization, but first we need to make sure you are up to snuff and won’t get yourself killed out there. I have a number of small assignments for you and your team, and it would be best if you could finish them before the day’s end.
“Every day we get some doe-eyed hopeful or some sniveling bootlicker willing to do anything to join up with the Pathfinders. Most of them are good kids, but not all of them have the salt to make it in a world like this. It’s rough out there and I’m not just talking about the ruins, tombs, and wilderness Pathfinders find themselves in on missions. We’ve got people who look down their noses at us, folks who think we squander our resources, and agents who want to take everything we have collected. This wealth of knowledge and these items of lore make us the most powerful organization on the planet. That said, since we are fractured and widespread, it’s difficult for that power to light on anything for too long. For every friend of the Society, there are two enemies.
“Your first mission, to test your mettle and loyalties, sends you to meet a few people important to the Society living here in Absalom. These are other venture-captains or close allies of our organization, so follow their orders as you would mine. I’ve prepared a list of things I want you to do. They’re not arranged in any particular order of importance, but I want them all completed as quickly as possible. Only report to me once you complete them all. Included in the envelope you hold in your hands is the list, complete with the name of your contact, and directions to the meeting location.”
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Ralklain has been exercising a lot after his last adventure. He looks stronger, but not that much. His crossbow is attached to his belt, in a way it's easy to retrieve. Once again he looks nervous, sweating a bit. Being inside Absalom is comfortable, but not quite like the wilderness.
Will do. May we separate for this or would you like all of us going together?
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Wuliem studies the list, handed to them by Venture-Captain Valsin.
Thank you for your trust, Venture-Captain.
We shall execute this list with respect and delicacy.
He sidles up to the rest of the group.
Hello--again--friends. It is good to be working for you again.
I am excited to be able to prove my mettle for the Society!
Now, I presume the order doesn't matter, as the Ventur-Captain suggested. So, I would vote for starting at the top. Sounds simple enough. Go to the Docks district, locate this curio shop--The Pickled Imp--and speak with this Guaril Karela for his request. It's a bookstore--may be I could pick up a few volumes? I wonder...
The Venture-Captain only looks at Ralklain a bit strangely at the mention of, well, 'splitting the party', but doesn't comment further.
You leave the Grand Lodge in the Foreign Quarter and head south towards the Docks (following an additional paper given to you with directions to each task), winding your way through the bustling city, often having to take some side street because of a religious process or jam of camel carts. (If you like, you can take two carts to get around the city - each holds about four people - for only one copper penny for each leg of your journey.)
Eventually you arrive at the Pickled Imp, located in the seedy, harborside Docks district. This creepy shop contains myriad odds and ends, most bereft of any discernible use. A number of malformed creatures and creature parts bob in jars on a long, prominent shelf, a tiny fetal devil centered in this macabre lineup. The shopkeeper, a greasy-haired Varisian with a thin mustache, shouts from behind the cluttered counter:
“Ah yes, I see the Pathfinders have arrived. I’m glad Ambrus was able to lend a few of his new recruits to help me. Please come in and let me tell you what I need.”
Looking around as if to be absolutely certain no customers are browsing the aisles of knock-off Thuvian burial urns or supposed Azlanti porcelain, he begins again.
“Well met. I am Guaril Karela. A friend of mine has a warehouse near here and he received a parcel on behalf of me and some of my associates, but there’s a problem. See, Master Gelbane had to leave town in a hurry and our shipment is still waiting at his warehouse. Rumor is he ended up in trouble with the law and the place was seized. I heard tell from someone down at the docks that some creep was snooping around his warehouse just the other night, so I want to make sure nothing of mine was taken. He keeps all kinds of things, from beer to nails, in that old pelican, but every now and then he stores something really special. This is one of those cases.
“There’s a big crate marked with three crows arranged in a triangle. Inside that crate is a smaller container with a few books and papers in it. That’s the only parcel I’m interested in, and as far as I’m concerned, you can help yourself to the rest of the crate. Honestly, anything else you want in the place too. I’m sure the once things get sorted out, the city will seize most everything else anyway.
“My associates and I often work with the Pathfinders when it comes to special relics and documents, getting them in and out of ports and across borders where the authorities ask too many questions. Most people don’t realize what they have and frankly many don’t deserve to have it, so sometimes we help take the goods off their hands. If things work out well and you get this done, I’d be glad to talk with you more and help you out with any future endeavors, as long as you help me out too. I’m good at returning favors, trust me.”
"The city watch? Oh, I am certain that they won't be a problem, since the warehouse is of no great matter, and you are retrieving property for me, and it is the Docks... Still, nothing of great difficulty for aspiring Pathfinders like yourselves who will, no doubt, retrieve many items from more difficult situations."
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Pizzmic having uncharacteristically overslept missed the formal meeting with the venture-captain Valsin. Pizzmic bursts into the Grand Lodge in a hurried completely disheveled manner looking for anyone who can direct him him where to go, after hearing that the party headed off to the Pickled-Imp, a sigh of relief falls across the now less flustered gnome. He takes his new information and makes haste to the Pickled Imp. Pizzmic ole boy of all days to be late you pick today...Luckily they went being sent to help ole Guaril. I wonder if the other chaps realize they are meeting one of the most influential men in all of absolom? Hopefully the ole boy keeps to true Scarzni fashion and act oblivious of our relationship. Pizzmic knowing the way to the pickled Imp like the back of his hand arrives almost exactly as the party walks through the door. Slightly laughing he says What you couldn't wait for ole Pizzmic....youngsters always in a hurry.looking up at his formal companions smiling briefly and then introducing himself to well-groomed dwarf while taking a slight bow. Honored to meet your acquaintance good sir, I am Pizzmic Oslo formally hailing from the shallow mire. Once Guaril emerges from behind the counter he bows yet again in a similar form of respect. He waits for the varisian to finish his pitch and then speaks up We appreciate the opportunity to help you in this manner sir and we will make haste in returning your abandoned property to act as though this is the first time having met Guaril Karela
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Pizzmic looking up at Ralklain nods in agreement So Ralklain have you gotten the chance to negotiate with any other kolbolts as of late? without waiting for a response pizzmic nudges the dwarf So while in a dungeon filled with undead abominations, giant spiders, frog monsters that blind you; we come up on a door way where behind it we hear some creatures speaking dragonic...you know the language of dragons....This guy decides the best coarse of action is to try and negotiate with a handful of spear wielding dragonkin Kolbolts. Needless to say the dialogue failed.laughing a bit as he says it to tell the story in the most jovial chop busting manner
The pier this "pelican warehouse" sits on stretches 100 feet from the boardwalk and the docks proper, and stands 15 feet above the water. The planks on the pier are sturdy but weathered. A few local fishermen and some kids sit scattered along the pier casting nets or bobbing lines into the waters below.
The warehouse appears to struggle against its own roof, threatening to sag into the bay below. No light shines from the building’s windows and only the movement of gulls and pelicans stirs the scene.
A small boat bobs in the water below, tethered to the pier by a stout, salt-crusted rope.
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Talor greets Pizzmic in kind, with the formality and respectfulness of the merchant class. Well met to you, sir. I am Talor Blackstone, formerly of Janderhoff.
odd character, this one, but what do we expect from a gnome?
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At Pizzmic's story, Talor again responds in kind. Hah! That is quite a story. I will tell you one as well. The last group I was in was attacked by gillmen in a tavern, and our "drunken master" spent half the fight talking up the barmaid!
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At the warehouse, Talor accompanies Ralklain a step behind him, and looks for signs that the building is occupied.
The warehouse is at the end of a very long pier (100 ft), and is 15 ft above the water, supported on pilons. These are a style of warehouses called "pelican warehouses", sitting at the end of long piers, out of the way of the busy dock region.
Many of them either accommodate smaller vessels that are in a hurry or larger ships unable to find an open dock. Rare these days, most pelican
warehouses lie in disrepair, withered from storms and salt, and every year it seems another one falls into the harbor.
An increased tax on this type of property keeps many of the owners from rebuilding and some have even relinquished the titles to their small warehouses, allowing them to fall into the hands of squatters and smugglers—or into the bay itself.
Smugglers sometimes use small boats to slip under the warehouse, sawing a hole in the floor or prying boards in the night, and sneaking in to loot the place or just drop a crate into their boat from above and paddle away in the night.
Talor can see no sign of the building being occupied, and the windows are dark and dirty and provide no view of the interior.
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Pizzmic attempts pee his normal behavior to say somewhere in the middle of the pack (unless Alia is in the group at this point, in which he will stand directly in front of her) and casts mage armor upon himself as he walks through the doorway. He will after casting mage armor will wait until he is inside the warehouse draw his crossbow and be ever viligant. we need to stay alert ole boy, decent chance this box hasn't been abadoned and the town guard might be at our heels. Hopefully by taking this risk ill gain some more favor from Guaril only better securing my role in the scarnzi network
When tried, the door is locked, and seems to be one of the sturdier parts of the building.
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Wuliem looks around at everybody--nervously!
I...uh...may have some practice with...err...mechanical devices, such as...say...a lock?
Wuliem begins to look through his many pockets.
After a full minute has passed, he looks back at the group.
I may have...well...forgotten to pick some proper tools up prior to leaving!
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I cannot say I have much experience with locks, but there should be a way in somewhere. If not, these "pelican" warehouses are not often in good condition. You see, sitting out here at the end of a long pier, away from a busy dock, this kind of place takes the small vessels in a hurry or large ships when there is no space at the dock. Most, as this one, are in disrepair, and falling into the harbor. It will not be a sturdy place, my friends.
It takes a little bit of effort, but Ralklain is able to climb down into the boat (the pier is quite a bit above the level of the boat). There is no-one aboard. The boat seems sound, especially with a few minutes bailing water.
No magic is detected around the door or in the cone of detect magic through it. Looking around, there is no magic detectable.
Wuliem wiggles a few of his alchemical stir rods and maybe a sliver of wood around in the lock and before too long, *click*, it opens.
Darkness fills the warehouse, the ambient light from outside blocked by a filthy, oily film on the structure’s few windows. Darting illumination comes from light reflecting off the water through a splintered hole in the floor. Throughout the warehouse, crates, boxes, and barrels lean against each other in vaguely sorted stacks. A lingering smell indicates some of the contents are certainly spoiled.
Perched in the middle of the hole, teetering on split planks, sits a large crate stamped with three crows arranged in a triangle — the very crate you have come to find. Handholds cut into the stout wooden crate ring the rim. Other barrels, boxes, and crates sit stacked along the walls of the warehouse. Just inside the door sits a handful of crates and kegs of beer. Some crates reek of rot. Stacks of simple coffins sit against the east wall. Many more crates are stacked along the north and south walls.
You move southwest, approaching the crate on its precarious perch, and it becomes obvious that the boards may give way with any too imprudent action, dumping the crate into the harbor.
Looking up, you see that a crane, used for loading and unloading boats, clings to a rail running the length of the warehouse, hanging 5 feet below the high ceiling, and seems capable of sliding out to extend past the loading doors along the west wall. But, the crane doesn't have a feature to 'reach down' to the level of the crates.