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Roleplaying! Of all the silly, time-wasting pastimes!
The first three boys continue to play with Sir Dydimus.
Auntie Baltwin calls out to the boys, "Be careful, children. You don't know where that thing has been!" She makes a sound of disgust. "Make sure to wash your hands when you're done playing with it," she finishes, referring to the small arcane duelist.
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I think she was talking about you. says Diydimus to the 4th kid if he is still around.
OK you guys ready to start? Once everyone is, It is dark and stormy night. You are all in your favorite coffee shop when a mysterious stranger walks it...
As they play Dydimus asks about their likes and dislike, how they enjoy living here and what they dream of becoming when the grow up; when he isn't telling them heroic stories about his own adventures that is.
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Dydimus gets the same info as before.
Same with Opal.
Van overhears the conversation:
Caranthir also overhears the kids with Dydimus:
And, so does Alek:
The thought dawns on Alek that there's something "different" (though, not amiss) about the way the children reference the "helping out" (chores) that they do.
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As though by habit, Auntie Baltwin automatically responds, "Oh, sure! Help yourself. I keep the good stuff in the..." She stops speaking abruptly, realizing that she just messed up. Her eyes go momentarily wide. "Uh, heh heh," she stammers, "What I mean is..."
Caranthir and Van spot broken blood vessels in Auntie's eyes and nose. She also has slightly shaky hands, glassy eyes, and a very fine sheen of sweat.
With a breath, she gathers herself and continues, "Ha! Seems most days you need it if you want to make it through the day in this house. These children are killing me!" She pauses for a half a heartbeat, "But, you know, I'm all that some of these kids have. I should really give myself up to guidance and recovery. Maybe I could attend those AA meetings at the Temple of the Shining Star..."
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"Yeah, I get that. I used to help my Pops out all the time when I was a child. It builds character, I wouldn't be the Gnome I am today without all that hard work." Van shrugs and takes another sip of his drink, "What's this medicine we're dropping off for anyway? You got a sick kid who needs it? Some kind of plague going around the city I should know about?"
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After his disastrous attempt at gaining Auntie Baltwin's favor, Alek remains quiet as Van works his verbal magic with the clearly alcoholic woman. He instead looks around the area while the walk and attempts to help shield the elves as they seek to sneak off... by casually positioning himself to block line of sight.
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"We haven't been sick very long. Auntie Baltwin usually gets us better within a day or two." Cough. Cough. "Thanks for the medicine, though. I think Auntie Baltwin drinks an awful lot of her "special" medicine. She must be real sick. She usually takes the first dose straight from a bottle as soon as she wakes up!" Cough. Sneeze.
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____________________________________________________________
Having completed three of the tasks on their list, the party is left with only one more: 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.
The Pickled Imp is a curio shop in the seedy, harborside Docks district. It is owned by Guaril Karela, head of the Absalom-based Sczarni. The party arrives there shortly after leaving Eastgate.
"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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Sir Dydimus wraps up the game (it was a Kids Quest) and joins back up with the rest of the group.
See you guys next week He calls back to the kids as they all head back to the temple and report what they discovered.
As they head down to the docks Sir Dydimus takes a detour and picks up a meat pie for a late afternoon snack.
The Halfling's eyes go wide as he explores the shop. The clinking of glass and gasps of wonder can be heard from the shelves as the rest of the party listens to the shop keep.
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The party heads out, following Guaril's directions.
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. 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 in disrepair. The windows are dark and dirty and provide no view into the structure’s interior. A small boat bobs in the water below, tethered to the pier by a stout, salt-crusted rope.
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His head still a little foggy from the drinks at Auntie Baltwin's place, Van has very little say at the Pickled Imp. He does, however, start to sober up when they reach the pelican warehouse, "I got that handy wand of Knock if we want to march right in. Since they're just gonna take it away from us at the end of this, I'd like to try it out."
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"I would suggest Dydimus," Caranthir says, "but I am not sure his attention span is long enough to remember to report back."
The elf looks down the dock at the warehouse.
"Perhaps in this case it might be better to hide in plain sight. If we act like we belong here and are inspectors or something, it is likely no one will take notice."