I've always liked the docks. Not so much for the sea, but for the see.
He points to his eyes and chuckles at his own bad joke.
Let's find out where we're this 'Pickled Imp' is eh?
He mutters something about going from Fried Imp to Pickled as he approaches a few locals and gets some directions that lead him by to the pier. As he relays his information to the party he also mentions that he saw someone watching them from the crowd.
Orn quirks an eyebrow at the elf as he walks along, staring between him and the case he holds. "...I doubt you're going to get that thing open. If a Chelish noble couldn't get it open, I suspect we stand little chance. Besides, should we be looking into things the Society wants us to bring back?"
As they approach the docks, the kobolds eyes widen, and it's easy to see that all the new sights, smells and sounds are overwhelmingly new to him. Perhaps it is the first time he's ever had to venture so far from the Lodge proper... or simply the first time he's been so close to such a big body of water and all the activity it entails.
However, at some point, his little yellow eyes dart off in one direction and lock there for a while. He remains perfectly silent, even as he slips through the crowd, before finally taking his eyes off it. Whatever he saw, he never states... though he does shift his attention when Odryk mentions he saw someone watching them. Orn continues to remain wary of the area... and a little lower than usual.
Certainly forcing it open is out of the question, but there is no harm in looking, is there?
Regardless, it does appear you are correct - it would take quite some time for me to get this open.
Kelwin exhales deeply and shakes his head as he puts the case away.
Don't you wonder what this is about? Seems strange for such a large group of us to be sent together on minor errands that one of us should be able to complete. There must be a hidden agenda here that we are supposed to discover.
"...perhaps to keep us safe." Orn replied, still staring every so often at the place from earlier. "In my tribe, war bands never had less than 3 or 4 of us. Venturing out is dangerous... the Society is smart to do the same. Absalom may be civilized... but it is still a 'wilderness' and hides many dangers."
Sleggar follows Odryk and Ortn towards the Pickled Imp. And he muses to himself how it seems to be all imps all the time. And of course that Countess was obsessed with a certain kind of pickle - provided it was covered in barbs it seemed.
Sleggar felt...odd being in a lower income area like this. He had spent his childhood in squalor and had often thought of it like home but being there now, after all those years of Hellknight comfort which, though spartan by the standards of the wealthy were more than a child growing up on this street could expect to live in.
Contemplating on this bit of identity crisis, he almost missed the conversation being had by Orn and Kelwyn before catching the end bit.
Orn is right. You always send 5 even when 3 will do. It's not even just about safety. It's about prestige. Any task worth doing by 5 men...err soldiers?....Pathfinders, i suppose. Anyway a task where the ysend 5 must be pretty important and that tells the petty that perhaps it is worth parting with information they might foolishly be seeking to keep hidden or confused. In our case, I notice that the last one was a Paracountess, so even though this Guaril Carela operates out of the docks we should assume he rates alongside a noble of Cheliax and be mindful of our manners.
Sleggar then advances on the Pickled imp and throws open its doors.
Oathday, 11 Lamashan 4707, 1158.
As you open the door, you immediately notice the smell as well as just how creepy this place is. The shop contains myriad odds and ends, most of them 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. You may know me already and that is fine, though a little curious. For those of you who don't well, I am Guaril Karela. A..umm.. 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.". The man pauses, looking at all of you, as if judging whether he should continue. He does, regardless of whatever judgement he internally passes.
"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.”
He smiles and twirls his obviously waxed moustache...
Odryk rubs his chin and frowns.
The proper authorities seem to be handling it, and this sounds a lot like theft.
He looks the merchant up and down, assessing the man much the same was he would a crime scene.
He softens his appearance a little and moves to stand next to Karela.
Is there anything you might have overlooked? Maybe a few details you have...forgotten to tell us? I'd like to know everything before I decide if I'm going to participate in burglary.
Orn stayed quietly behind the others, listening to the Varisian speak. I think I've raised slurks that aren't this slimy... he mused internally, before looking up at the dwarf.
"Sometimes, one must steal to prevent thieving. Better anything valuable be with us than in the hands of the city guards. They may abuse it...or rather, they will. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about." Orn goes quiet for a moment, his eyes glazing over and his expression coming out of it's usual neutral to a somber one. He stands quietly, lost in his own thoughts for a little.
Orn finally spoke up, snapping out of his trance and finishing. "I'd rather anything of worth be in my claws than in someone else. Besides, Master Valsin asked we assist him. Whether we like it or not is out of the question - we'll simply have to make sure we aren't caught."
Odryk looks down at his odd companion and listens intently to his reasoning.
I was a city guard once Orn, they're not all bad. Besides, I'm not saying we shouldn't retreive the items in questions. But there are proper channels to go through! Why, even a proof of purchase would probably let us in the warehouse to retreive our goods.
He rubs his chin thoughtfully,
Besides, crossing the authority in this city so early in our pathfinder careers may not bode well.
Sleggar rolls his eyes at the man's request. He saw how uncomfortable this made Odryk and Orn and that heartened him. His resolve strengthened a bit at seeing these glimpses of their character and decided to speak.
Well, I suppose I can thank you for trying to hide the nature of your business behind greased words meant to imply anything without admitting anything but lets cut to the chase. The Society sometimes needs to smuggle things for the good of the order and you're the man who does that. And you are asking us to provide a little quid pro quo for services rendered to the society.
Sleggar sighs heavily. This was very clearly against the law and this man violated pretty much the entire bible of Abadar with the way he ran his business. But he had his orders. An interesting clash of his morals and ethics.
He bends in to listen to Odryk and whispers.
"I am not sure what to do here mates. Perhaps Odryk is right and we can get these goods back through less illegal means than a classic breaking and entering. We have our orders to fulfill but this man.... he is clearly not of stiff moral fiber. I'd like to just get this out of the way and forget we ever had to deal with such a slimy man
Guaril regards all of you for a moment before speaking, he is obviously perturbed and just a little irritated. "You should listen to the little one. Ambrus said you were useful and yes, we do 'smuggle' as you put it, things underneath the noses of those who would prevent us from doing our jobs. The thing is, we already own the items, so it's not technically stealing. Technically." He looks at Sleggar and shakes his head, then back at Odryk. "Look, however you procure the items is up to you, what you do with whatever else is in there is also up to you. However remember that you are Pathfinders and are expected to obey orders. The task is simple, get the items and bring them back. If you insist on getting the city watch involved, well, let's just say that the paperwork alone would take you all week and Ambrus expects you to be finished by dinner time." He sits back in his chair with a very smug look on his face.
Kala had remained quiet the entire trip through the docks for lack of content to speak about, perfectly fine to simply take in the sights and let others do the business, but his man was simply too much for her to contain it any longer. She stepped forwards from the rear and go directly into his face, thankfully being on level as he was sitting, and did her best to polite tell him off. "Listen her, Scumbag, I don't care what you want, I don't care who you are, but you don't get to just order us around!" Her hair started to whip around her in the air light a gale of wind was in the building, looking like it was about to flay the man like a cata-nine-tails.
He inched even closer into his face, finishing off with a "But lucky for you we have orders from our actual leader to help you out, so we'll get your foul goods and return them, then you are going to get on your knees and thank us for doing something that you couldn't be arsed to do yourself!" She left the air silent for a second before stepping back, her hair returning to the avalanche of it's normal shape and turning around to the door, waiting for directions for the job, and hoping to all that he prayed to, what little it seemed, that he would take up a better tone with his helpers.
Probably being used to being yelled at or simply not caring, or a measure of both, Guaril Karela winks at the witch. "While I admire your.. intensity sweetheart, it would be better spent elsewhere." He watches her a bit before looking at the rest of you expectantly. Odryk can sense that the man does actually admire the witch, but not in a professional way. "Well? It's not going to walk itself here."
Orn frowns, staring back up at Odryk. "Guards, kings... so-called 'heroes', it makes no difference. If you are given power, you will inevitably abuse it. You can only truly appreciate it if you earn it."
The kobold turns and walks out towards to the door. "He's right. The longer we spend here, the more opportunity we give to those who would steal from us. Let's go."
Odryk frowns and walks out behind Orn without so much as a goodbye for the cretin in the shop. He's visibly upset by the situation and clearly wants to argue his point more. He's rubbing his chin so much he's likely to bruise it.
Let's head to this warehouse. If there are guards, let me try and reason with them. We're Pathfinders now, and this is Absalom, surely there's enough common ground to do this less dubiously.
Sleggar follows silently behind Orn and Odryk not wishing to make a scene but privately his look lingered on Kela, grateful that she spoke what Sleggar was feeling.
You leave the Pickled Imp, probably more disgusted with what occurred than the items in the shop itself. It doesn't take you long to find the boardwalk and head to the specific pier that will take you to Master Gelbane's Pelican Warehouse. As you head down the hundred foot pier, some of the local fishermen and children look up at you, but say nothing. There aren't any city watch nearby, but that doesn't mean they can't be called. Perched on the end of it, about 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. The wood here seems weathered, but sturdy. The pier itself ends at the warehouse, part of it extending fifteen feet on the left side to allow room for a closed door. On closer inspection, all windows seem to have some sort of soot or oil smeared on them to block out the light. On the right of the pier is a small rowboat moored there.
even relinquished the titles to their small warehouses, allowing them to fall into the hands of squatters and smugglers—or into the bay itself.
Breaking and entering isn't exactly my forte, but I think walking up to the front door and bashing it in is probably not the best idea. Can anyone sneak up there and pick the lock so it looks like we belong here when we walk up? If not, I could create an illusory guard escort for us, but it wouldn't stand up to close inspection.
Also, these pelican warehouses usually have a water entrance for the boats. The water entrance may be less conspicuous, and if we are lucky it could even be unlocked, whereas the front door is almost certainly locked
Sleggar nods at the sage advice of Kelwin
"Well I can swim...if I take this armor off I can swim pretty well actually. I could swim under there and take a look.
Orn walked silently, though he kept an eye on the surroundings. He wasn't concerned about others seeing them enter the warehouse as he was in... something else...
Reaching the warehouse, Orn looked up and around the place, before looking down at the boat in the water. "...why not just use the boat?" he asked, before looking back up at the roof and scratching one of his fringes.
"...Master Sleggar... how high do you think you could throw me?"
I think your plan with the boat is probably good enough without hurling you to the roof! Odryk says as he shakes his head, clearly still very uncomfortable with the situation.
Small though you are, I'm not convinced you wouldn't collapse it anyway, at which point we're likely in a whole new host of trouble.
He walks up to the row boat and looks it over, hoping not to find any surprises or leaks. He also scans the area to see if the strange citizen from earlier was still watching them.
Tentatively he climbs into the row boat, the whole time preparing to leap back on to the docks just in case.
Kelanna, I don't suppose that bird of your can keep watch? He asks nervously, then he starts grumbling to himself about having a talk with their Venture-Captain about the legality of the orders they were issued.
Kelwin determines that in all, of anyone actually paying attention, there are approximately 22 children in and around this pier and about 9 fishermen. Odryk notes however that from the boardwalk, he could swear he saw someone looking your way, but then again, it could have been anyone, or just sheer paranoia at the less than legal activities you might be about to perform. That said, Odryk finds the boat rather seaworthy, if not old. It seats three maximum, though someone with heavy armor would probably strain it..
Odryk twists his mustache and looks at the party.
Well, are we doing this or not?
Sleggar nods slowly Two of us should take the boat and I guess two of us should keep watch. Do either of you magic types know how to use the message spell? If so, then we can use that, if not we'll have to work out some kind of signal that we should abort.
Orn frowns as he looks back at the others, before turning to the door. He closed his eyes as he thought a little... his tribe was often keen on getting around undetected, and they typically had tricks to do so. Taking a boat seemed... conspicuous. Too much so to be logical.
In fact, it seemed like the sort of thing he'd set a trap for. An old boat that so conveniently happens to be laying around for them to take the sea entrance? He smelled something fishy...
...or perhaps that was just the boardwalk's usual scent.
While the others fiddled with the boat, Orn started to snoop around the entry way, looking into nooks and crannies, or anything he thought may hide a hidden lever, or perhaps a device to open the door.
Or, heck, maybe even a secret doorway inside!
I do not have message prepared today but I can make mimic sounds. If you hear a small dog yapping, it means someone is coming, if you hear a rumbling growl, it means come here, if you hear a roar like a lion, cut and run. I will stand guard here until you can open the door from inside.
While the others keep watch and debate on what to do, the little kobold does what little kobolds do best. While he can't reach high enough to see inside the windows, he finds, hidden underneath a crumpled piece of oilcloth by the door, a key.
Orn blinks as he stumbles across a key in his search, picking it up and staring at it for a moment. It made sense... why take a boat when you can just walk through the front door? And only those who SHOULD know how to get in would know where to find the key... assuming this key was indeed for the door.
Only one way to find out. Orn moves up to the door and attempts to open the lock.
The door unlocks easily for Orn's key. Upon opening it, a rank smell assaults his sensitive nose while his eyes adjust to the darkness, and it isn't the fish. On the wall to his front right is a pile of coffins, stacked about twelve feet high. The open area to his right leads to the warehouse proper and he can see with a glance several crates, some broken, some in fairly decent condition, that are also haphazardly stacked in here. It appears that your team wasn't the first in here.
Sleggar will walk up behind Orn and look around for the Crate that we were sent for.
As the rest of his party walks away Odryk raises an eyebrow in confusion.
Don't me I got in this damnable boat for no reason!
His face turns red as he climbs back onto the docks, his frustration clear on his face. He relaxes a little bit when he sees the warehouse door open and he hustles over of take a look with as well.
Kelwin you may as well watch from the door now that we have it open. Not that we have a lot in the way of escape routes.
Orn smiles as he opens the door, before twitching a little and shaking his head. Thankfully, raising slurks had taught him to repress his gag reflex... not that it made the smells any more pleasant.
While Sleggar took care of the search for the crate, Orn decided to see what was inside those coffins... and perhaps figure out why in heck they were in here to begin with...
Looking through the rest of the warehouse, the main part being about 45 feet by 45 feet, other than the outcropping on the pie.,You notice that there are several crates, kegs, bottles and casks everywhere, as well as the coffins on the eastern wall, the north wall being attached to the pier. There is a bit of light coming in from somewhere and as you look, there seems to be a pathway through all the junk that leads to hole in the floor near the west wall. The hole is about 10 feet wide with a few planks looking like they are barely containing the weight of the one crate standing atop it. Of course, this crate has those three crows in a circle on it. It also has handholds all along its top. This is the crate you were sent after. You can hear the sound of lapping waves coming from the hole.
"Just gotta think like a sneak. We do it all the time. I think the sea door might be trapped or something... it's what I would do." Orn peers in through the coffins and quirks a brow at the mess inside. Odd... why stuff trash in here? Peering into another one, he finds more of the same. "...weird..."
Orn's fringes perk up as he whips around, looking around and squinting. He grabbed his talon as he growled a little, fringes twitching as he tried to hear that noise... or what he thought was a noise. "...everyone grab your weapons... I don't think we're alone in here..."
Sleggar reaches at his side and produces his whip and circles carefully toward the crate.
Probably just bugs....
You always get your weapon ready for bugs son?
Odryk, despite the joke, follows Sleggars lead and draws his own weapon.
Something tells me this won't be as smooth as our last encounter.
As if on cue, a group of rather large rats burst forth from the pile of coffins, sending debris and refuse flying in all directions. They descend on Orn with slavering fury, as if protecting something.
Other than causing him to jump slightly, the rats only manage to put Orn on his guard, unable to catch a purchase with their teeth.
Well I'm glad they're not bugs!
Odryk lunges at the nearest rat with his rapier.
Odryk strikes with his rapier, but the large rat is too fast for him.
Kelwin steps inside and positions himself such that he can still see out of the entry door, but his hands are concealed from those outside, and draws his crossbow.
Orn startles back as the rats emerge from hiding, falling on him. I knew it! I wonder what they- Orn took a quick leap back as he looked between the coffins and the rats, before growling.
"Don't kill them if you can!" He understood what they were doing. He squinted as he held out his free claw, a ball of acid swirling into existence, while his weapon started to shimmer with a layer of magical energy. He twisted a little and slung his talon outward at one rat, before hurling his acid bubble at it.
Kelanna's raven squawks something that sounds like "I told you so.", but you struggle to remember it saying anything earlier.
Kelwin draws his crossbow and sees the four giant rats attacking Orn, but getting nowhere.
Orn lashes out with his weapon, instantly killing one of the rats and wounding another with acid.
Sleggar uses his whip, following the advice to try and deal non-lethal damage.
He circles on one of the rats and slaps down on it hard with his bullwhip but still attempting to hit firmly, taking the ship in both hands.
The Whip connects with authority, smashing the creature on the back with force. Kinda like this, Orn. See using the right tools keeps them from dyi- seeing orn burn the rats with acid Sleggar quiets down so as not to embarrass the lad.
With a loud crack, Sleggar's whip snaps into the head of one of the rats, sending it flying a few feet and then lying still.
Kelanna raises her arm, crackling with a nimbus of electricity, and points it at one of the rats. "This shouldn't hurt them, much."
Nori, for her part, hearing Orn's request, spots a heavy wooden plank and grabs it, ready to thwack one of the rats.
"I think we would do well with more light to see by," Vaseida says as her holy symbol begins to shed bright light into the room.
This effect seems to enrage the rats and the last one to reach Orn bites at him, but fails to get through the kobold's defenses.
The rats continue to defend their home from invasion, biting at Orn, and tearing into his scaly flesh.