Fresh off your induction into the Society and the completion of your basic training within the organization, 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 you curtly and motions for you to sit before jumping straight into your assignment.
“All right, Pathfinders, Listen up!" He says, looking you over like a military officer looking over green recruits. "I know you are new, and 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." Ambrus takes a moment to size you up, a thoughtful look on his face.
“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 powerful. 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." His warning given, he allows the gravity of his words to settle in before clearing his throat and getting back to the business at hand. "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 tasks 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.”
Venture-Captain Valsin briskly deflects any questions, instructing you to see your contacts on the list in the envelope for more information, reminding you that those contacts are to be treated as authority figures that should be both respected and obeyed. He then excuses himself and leaves you to look over the information contained within the envelope. What you find is the following:
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Task 1
A man named Guaril Karela runs a curio shop in the Docks called the Pickled Imp. Go to him and fill his request as a favor to the Society. I believe it has something to do with a set of rare books.
Task 2
Ollysta Zadrian requested aid and is expecting you at the Temple of the Shining Star in the Ascendant Court. She needs someone to deliver a parcel of medicine and curatives to a needy orphanage and verify the character of the recipient.
Task 3
Visit the offices of Osirian nobleman Dremdhet Salhar in the Wise Quarter. The Pathfinder Society needs to obtain permission to delve the Salhar ancestral vaults beneath Sothis. He has made a verbal agreement, and your visit makes it official. You will receive an official charter and detailed maps. Do not embarrass the Society in this matter.
Task 4
Chelish Paracountess Zarta Dralneen possesses an item loaned from the Vaults. Meet with her in her estate in the Ivy District and retrieve the item in her possession.
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You are currently in the Grand Lodge, located in the Foreign quarter of Absalom. You have until the end of the day to complete these tasks, which are located in different places throughout the city. It might prove wise to first determine the order in which you handle them.
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And now I'm forced to work as an errand girl. At least we're not chaperoned by an annoying gnome or halfling or whatever she was.
"It appears some of us are working together again. It went well, I would say, so this is quite agreeable. I have no preference on which order we take care of these tasks. I would suggest doing task 1 first, since the Docks are located the furthest away from the others."
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A big man from the north, wearing furs over scale armor, nods at the venture-captain, and introduces himself to the others in the room. "Embel Ulfson, of the Bear Tribe." His voice is much softer then one might expect.
He then looks at the list of names, and ponders a moment.
"These folk are all over the city it seems. If these tasks need to be done quick, we should try and not be runnin back and forth. Let me think a moment..."
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Worked together, have you? Well then, please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Blackwood. Gustav Aleister Blackwood... of the Thrushmoor Blackwoods... from Versex, you see...
The mustachioed man seems a bit put off that the reputation of his family is not common knowledge but composes himself after a quick harumph!
Well, I suppose we should get started than. Bloody errands. To the Pickled Imp, than?
Gustav is dressed well enough, though it would appear that any reputation his family should have is no longer backed by appropriate finances. Still, the Ustalavian man's choices of adventuring gear seem to indicate that he's traveled quite a bit: he is wearing armor from Minkai under his black cloak and is carrying a Vudran blade.
Embel's familarity with the city knows that the four errands will take the group through four interconnected districts. The most dangerous of these districts being the Docks - only fishes and bodies swim there after sundown. The best course to the start there and work through the more well patrolled districts as the day wears on.
The cheapest method of getting around the city is walking, which is exactly what your group does, either from habit or necessity. Being new to the Society, most of you do not have the wealth to toss away on transportation, and the size of your party would mean a very cramped ride, assuming you could convince a coachman to risk a half dozen armed and armored men scuffing up his seats. The Grand Lodge is about a mile and a half from the Docks as the crow flies, but since none of you can, the trip takes about 45 minutes to navigate the winding crowded streets to your destination.
As you arrive outside the Pickled Imp, a few of you notice a short figure back down the street slip from the crowd and vanish down an alley. You're pretty sure he was among the crowd outside the Lodge a short time ago, and you suspect he might have followed you here. Checking the alley reveals an exit to another crowded street, but no sign of the short man. It could have been a coincidence...
Eventually you return to the Pickled Imp and step inside. Within you find a creepy shop that 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. 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."
With a smile as greasy as his hair, Guaril slides a small square of parchment across the counter towards you. On it is written the pier number for the warehouse. "Any Questions?"
"Guarded by only steel locks perhaps", Guaril responds with guile, "But you should be ready for anything -yes?
Geoffrey nods thoughtfully.
"Unwatched steel locks are something that we can deal with; I would prefer to avoid tangling with the local Watch - the longer I can remain beneath their notice, the better..."
He then looks thoughtful for a moment, before continuing.
"It sounds like we have an agreement - the contents of the small container, for whatever else of interest we happen to find..."
Geoffrey grins, and winks.
"After all, we are practically doing a public service - making sure equipment is not left to rot, when it could be put to good use..."
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Gustav is fascinated by the myriad junk in the Pickled Imp, and he continually handles and examines the weirder wares, searching for any lingering importance.
A single parcel? Three crows...triangle... Yes, I believe we should have this task well under control. Anything in the warehouse, you say?
Finally finding something that truly interests him, Gustav slips a knick-knack into one of the pockets of his cloak.
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"Excellent! That's the spirit! I shall see you all later then.", Guaril replies to your enthusiam, adding, "Now, please make haste, and leave the salt shaker on the counter on your way out."
The location Guaril has directed you to is a 10 minute walk from his shop through fish markets, trade warehouses, seedy dockside taverns, and large crowds of people moving, loading, unloading, sorting, haggling, and a few vomiting or sleeping off a night of shore leave. But the hustle and bustle of the Docks fades as you approach your destination, and the pier itself is almost desolate in comparison, with only a few local fishermen and some kids scattered along its length, casting nets or bobbing lines into the water.
Perched on the end of the pier fifteen feet above the water, 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. Called pelican warehouses, these buildings perch at the end of piers, allowing a ship to load and unload farther out from the busier docks. 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. 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. The building looks abandoned and in disrepair. The windows are dark and dirty and provide no view into the structure’s interior. Out near the warehouse a small boat bobs in the water below, tethered to the pier by a stout, salt-crusted rope.
[MAP up]
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His gait ponderous and rolling, almost like that of a large animal, Embel moves toward the front door of the warehouse. "Anyone good with locks?" He looks around at his companions, then glances up and down the docks for prying eyes.
"Or should I just..." his voice drops to a whisper, "open it my way?"
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Once they arrive at the pelican warehouse, Katharina's expression suggests she's unimpressed, "This is more terrible than I expected. I suppose we should examine the outside before going in."
With that, she looks around the perimeter of the building that's attached to the docks for any features that are not obvious to the casual glance.
The locals glance at the large man and white-haired woman as they pass by, but show no real interest as they approach the warehouse and rattles the handle on the door, discovering that it is locked with a large metal tumbler. Katharina notices that a narrow ledge seems to surround the structure to the south, providing access to loading doors normally used by docked ships.
"Allow me."
Geoffrey moves forward, and attempts to jimmy the lock.
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Hmm. No telling what traps might be sprung or misadventure we may encounter in these unsavory parts...Perhaps a bit of communication would be in order.
As you pass, my fellows, please allow me to weave a quick bit of magic on you. I should be able to activate some manner of connection between us. If you but whisper, I shall be capable of hearing it at great distances. You, as well, should be capable of hearing me.
Gustav places his two first fingers to his forehead and a single pinky on any willing recipients'. Those recipients are affected by
Geof shivs the lock open with uncanny ease as Kath blocks the view from street goers. Gustav checks over his shoulders to see that no one is looking, or at least thinking so.
Inside 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 beyond some crates to the south. 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.
Geoffrey winks.
"Ladies first?"
Inside the warehouse, Embel finds many barrels, boxes, and crates stacked along the walls. Just inside the door sits a handful of crates and kegs of beer. By the smell of them, most of these smaller crates and barrels seem to contain foodstuffs in various states of freshness. Some crates reek of rot. Stacks of simple coffins sit against the east wall. The rest of the crates stacked along the north and south walls contain simple sundries including, but not limited to beer, blocks of clay, coffee, coils of rope, dried fish, nails, nets, raw cotton, rough wool, spare sails, timber planks, various pulleys and tools, and cheap weapons. 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.
Like a large bear rummaging for food, Embel begins to randomly go through the first pallets he comes across, although finding nothing but cheap goods.
Perched in the middle of the hole in the far side of the structure, teetering on split planks, sits a large crate stamped with three crows arranged in a triangle—the very crate you have come to find.
Geoffrey follows Embel into the warehouse, and also begins rummaging around... until he notices the large crate teetering over the abyss.
"Lovely," he remarks dryly. "It just couldn't be simple, could it?"
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I will miss being outdoors, but if that is what the Society wants from me...
Kain goes with the others he has spent the last week or so with. At the shop he says nothing, and walks towards the warehouse. He looks on, and wonders if the structure is even stable enough to allow the entry.
Of course not, what fun would that be for the Society to send us on "easy" missions. So, what do we do about the damned crate?
He looks back to Katharina, You seen to be attuned to the ebb and flow of water, what say you
Geoffrey nods, and follows Embel to the crane, which he glances over with a critical eye.
"That sounds like a good plan. Anyone here know anything about engineering?"
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Embel approaches the crane and looks it over. "Can't say I know much about these contraptions, but I'll..." He stops suddenly and stands up straight as if something invisible goosed him. He then begins to mumble in a Kelish accent.
"Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I will move Golarion."
The Vision is a spirit of arcane knowledge, mad genius, and cryptic clues. The Vision might represent a great but mad wizard or arcanist, or an otherworldly being with unparalleled arcane knowledge that will break the minds that seek it.
Spirit Bonus (Intelligence): Spirit bonus on all skill checks.
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Gustav follows Embel and Geoffrey toward the crane and peers into the water below.
Lovely, indeed. I've never worked with such a device- but our man Embel has the right of it- at least there are no monsters here. Perhaps...
Gustav tries to fiddle with the device, confident that his vast intellect will suffice against such a mundane challenge.
It seems that Embel has studied these sorts of devices. Good show!
Geoffrey shrugs apologetically.
"I am afraid that I haven't had a lot of education in the use of heavy machinery like this; I am more of 'fiddle-with-small-devices-and-see-what-happens' kind of guy; that said, I will see what I can do to help..."
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That figures, this warehouse is full of nothing useless items for the peasantry.
"My mastery of water tells me that using the boat which has been kindly abandoned outside would be the best idea." Katharina finally peeps up as she takes her time making her way inside. "Unless whatever force is possessing Embel has a better option to offer."
Embel's channeling of some distant library puts his mind on the verge of great understanding, with Geoffrey's help of pointing out that there are loose tools laying about, acquiring the box maybe within reach.
Embel can see that the box is on a precarious spot -ready to tumble into the waters. He can also visualize that only he might be strong enough to lift the crate to safety if he were to somehow hang upside down from using the crane. The notion suggested by Gustav might be actually workable as well -nudge the box off and catch it with the boat positioned beneath. Of course there is always the 'grab carefully method'.
The crane's hook is resting on the middle beam and would require someone climbing onto and crossing it, in order to get it into working position.