Faeria looks about at everyone else a bit confused. "Oh! You mean me. Um, I don't know. I mean you always seemed nice to me when I was little and living on the streets as a little girl. You let all your kids out to play every day in the streets so I had plenty of friends--well not exactly friends but.... You drink a lot of tea, and like cats, and can tell good people from bad just by looking at 'em. So I guess everything's okay."
"I believe I do remember you. Always wandering around lost within your own head. Most of the kids back then called you Freaky Faeria. Kids can be so mean sometimes." She gives Faeria a smile and address the whole group. "So Ollysta send you here to do what exactly? See how I am treating the kids?" She waves her hand in the air. "As you can see the kids are well taken care of."
"What of the sick? We can hear the coughing of ailing younglings from here. Does Madame Zadrian not supply you enough?"
She turns to the Hal-Orc."The sick children upstairs are fine, it's just a flu going around. A few days and they will be running around like nothing happen. I see no reason to waste the medicine on them."
She is not telling the whole true. She believe the kids will be fine but could speed their recovery with the medicine.
Waving her hand at Roshan but not turning to look at her."Quite darling we are talking."
Hugo makes his way around the house seeing many children play and doing chores. This fine upper class house is taken well care of. The lawn, thou worn out in spots from use, is well manicured and the fences are in good repair. The backyard has many wooden structures for the kids to play and climb on. Coming back around to the front of the house you have found nothing out of place or dangerous.
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Roshan's brows draw together, and her tiny face looks annoyed rather than sad like before-- both for the dismissive comment and for what she feels.
"Yes," she agrees flatly with what the others are saying. "You're given medicine to use it, not hoard it. But I'll be sure to let Ollystra Zadrian know how much weight you gave my opinion."
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Fellstone sets the plates down and frowns at the old woman, thinking about what she's said about the kids sickness. She sounded fairly certain the the kids would recover so maybe she was keeping the medicines just in case. That made some sense, Fellstone thought, but it didn't seem like she was having difficulty getting more medicine.
"Would not the medicines help the children recover quicker?" Fellstone asked, running a hand through his beard. "It's not as if it's that difficult to replenish what you use. Us here, we're proof of that."
He pours a cup of tea and hands it to Roshan. Softly he speaks. "Have some tea, lass, and pay no mind to the words of others. Your value is known your friends."
""But if you aren't going to use the medicine then what do you really need it for then? I'm sure there's someone with the pox somewhere...."
Auntie Baltwin nods at Fearia. "Yes, yes! You are right the pox could come to my house at anytime. I save the medicine for that reason."
A bead of sweat forms on her brow and she fidgets slightly as she is talking to Fearia. You sense she is lying about saving the medicine for the children.
Glaring at the Half-Orc. "How would you know how much medicine I have? I was running low before this delivery from the Shining Star." She shifts in her chair, takes a drink of her tea and just scoffs at Roshan's comment.
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Kagar rises, bringing his height to bear. "Do not lie to me. Upstairs is a cache of curatives. From three different groups such as we." He produces three vials showing the emblems from three different charitable organizations to show his fellows.
"You say you save it for the children but your face gives you away. What are you holding them for? What purpose do our donations serve? So you can sell the excess for more... more... Faeria, what was the bottle called?"
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"...Kagar..." Fellstone said in a soft warning. The tone of the Half-Orcs voice had troubled him, and he half expected his fellow monk to start a fight which would not be appropriate for this place.
Unless. There was something that Kagar had picked up on that Fellstone had not. He looked over at the older woman, his eyes narrowing into a squint. There was something off about the way that the woman was acting, he could see that now.
Fellstone pours himself a cup of tea. "Perhaps you'd best be truthful with our large friend, Auntie. He can be a might troublesome in controlling should he lose his temper."
The women shrinks in her chair as the Half-Orc loom over her. "OK, so I trade some of the extra medicine for liquor once in a while. Seems most days you need it if you want to make it through the day in this house. These children are killing me!”
She is still holding something back you can feel it.
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"Duplicitous dealings, hoarding, neglect, and redirection for alcoholism gain. Madame Zadrian will be informed of these findings."
-Posted with Wayfinder
"Well I believe it is time for all of you to leave." The small old woman stands and makes her way to the door. "You are making a big mistake if you report this to the Temple of Shining Star. Most of these kids have nothing else but this place and they are well taken care of here. Without the help of the charities it will make it harder on me to keep as many kids in the house." She pleads to you as she opens the door. "Think about the children."
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Kagar turns and addresses the woman over his shoulder. "It is for the children that we report what we find. The decision is Madame Zadrian's."
With nothing left to gain, Kagar leads the others out.
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Roshan is just as glad to leave the house behind, shaking her head. She eagerly jogs back to Bagheera, lazing in the sun, and rubs her hands on the warm-belly fur of the big black cat. "I don't like it in the city either," she murmurs to the cat. "Come on, though-- maybe soon we'll have something else to do!"
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Once out of the house and on the way Theoduin speaks up.
"I couldn't stand the lying hag. Children should be treated better. Let's move on to the last task."
-Posted with Wayfinder
The group makes their way back to the Temple of the Shining Star to report their findings to Ollysta Zadrian. "Troubling new to be sure. I will be cutting off our aid until I can investigate Miss Baltwin personally. Thank for your help in this matter. Now if you will excuse me I have other matters to attend too." She shakes each of your hands and bids you farewell.
After the visit to the temple the group travels south thru the city to the last task of the day to a shop in The Dock District.
You get the feeling you are being watched but can't pinpoint the source.
As the group comes into The Dock District the streets start to get busier and all types of people are moving or selling on the street. A giant crane called the Beast can be seen in the distance near the harbor.
The Beast is the largest crane in the world. It is located at edge of the Long Pier, near the center of the Docks district of Absalom. The Beast is used to unload the heaviest and largest loads in Absalom. It is a five-story stone windmill-like massive structure, with a long wooden winch and rope system sticking out of the top. The entire building can rotate on its axis and its main arm can extend out from its normal 25-foot length. Built 500 years ago, it is well maintained, capable of lifting nearly 60 tons to a height of 55 feet. When lifting loads no more than 10 tons, it can swing them in a 360 degree arc anywhere within 100 feet of its central tower. Its structure contains 16 human-operated tread wheels. All the warehouses built around the Beast are multi-storey buildings with central shafts to allow the Beast's cables to raise and lower cargo to any of their floors. Responsible for the operation of the Beast is the First Harbormaster. Running the Beast requires engineering expertise, thus the crane is hired out to a professional crane master. Currently, the chief engineer of the Beast is Adrielle Neprathep of House Fyrlenn.
In 4499 AR, during the Red Siege, the Beast defended itself, using a 1-ton block of stone as an over-sized flail.
Wondering around the Docks for about an hour you find the Pickled Imp, which is where you are to meet your next contact.
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.”
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In 4499 AR, during the Red Siege, the Beast defended itself, using a 1-ton block of stone as an over-sized flail.
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Kagar considers then man's words. It troubles him. On the one hand, it would be delivering this man's own property. On the other, it would mean subverting the law which has taken ownership of the building and, presumably, its contents. He considers the dilemma while others reply.
-Posted with Wayfinder
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"I feel it too," she murmurs to the others, regarding the sense of eyes on them. "Perhaps the Society is watching how we carry out our tasks!"
She wrinkles her nose through the briefing, finding both the man and the mission not entirely to her taste. Still... if this is what the Society needs done...
"Are there normally guards at this warehouse?" she asks suspiciously.
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Oh! this is the Pickled Imp! I thought it was that ethnic Osiriani place with the Escape the Room event that we went to earlier today, but actually it's Varisian fare instead. Hmmm.
"How's the house special?"
Guaril seems honest enough to all of you and also you are doing these tasks at the command of Ambrus Valsin from the Grand Lodge.
Guaril looks down at the Gnome. "No, there are no guards. The building it due for confiscation by the authorities soon due to the lack of maintenance from the previous owner. Be care while inside the build could fall down around your heads at anytime."
Giving Faeria a side-ward glace then speaking to Roshan. "What is she talking about?"
Looking over at the rest of the group. "Well if you have no other question you should be on your way. Return immediately after you have recovered the items I asked for. Thank You."
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Giving Faeria a side-ward glace then speaking to Roshan. "What is she talking about?"
"That is the question..."
Onward!
-Posted with Wayfinder
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retrieve the item before the building falls on us. Great idea going into the crumbling building. This is nothing like my first assignments. Are they only going down from here?
"No questions here, let's get going guys"
-Posted with Wayfinder
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 building looks abandoned and appears to struggle against its own roof, threatening to sag into the bay below. The windows are dark and dirty, provide no view into the structure’s interior and no light shines from the building’s windows. A small boat bobs in the water below, tethered to the pier by a stout, salt-crusted rope.
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.
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.
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Roshan rides Bagheera over and dismounts again, skritching the big cat behind the ears. "Yes, we can get fish for you later... I know, there's lots of fish smells here..."
She looks the building over, humming to herself. "Well, let's try that door, I suppose?"
At Faeria's rambling story, Roshan's brows dance a little. "Or maybe we can enter from below, if that holds true..."
All the same, she tries the the handle of the door.
The door is locked.