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Kara wrinkles her nose involuntarily at both the thought of whiskey-laced tea, and at the cheap vintage of the actual whiskey.
We have brought you your supplies. We trust they will assist you in providing a safe home for your children.
She straightens up a little uncomfortably in her chair.
Er...speaking of which, I believe I saw several of them running errands throughout town. That seems very unusual practice -- most of the orphanages I've heard of keep their children close by.
She makes the real question as sweet and innocent as she can.
Most interesting. What lesson are they learning on these errands, Madame Baldwin?
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Lizbeth smiles at the young talkative child and ruffles their hair playfully, letting them get back to playing with the Wayang, the Vishkanya waits until their comrades have entered the Madame's house before asking them anymore leading questions.
"Good bedtime stories are very difficult to come by! How is she mean?"
Auntie Baldwin gives Kara the ol' stink eye.
"You must be mistaken young lady. I run a respectable establishment here!"
The talkative child continues her rant before reaching the juicy bit.
"Auntie sends the healthy ones out into town to help other people, so we can pay for our room and board. I like helping people!"
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The little gray creature gives Lizbeth a significant look, indicating he understands what is going on, but otherwise keeps playing with the children.
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Archimele's nods approvingly. He pulls out his lantern and lights it up. He shines its light, feeble against the afternoon sun, about the room.
"She does however have a point." He goes on to innumerate the local facts of their local inquiries and his own extreme distaste for cats.
Eyes burning with indignant rage, Auntie Baldwin rushes to her feet and gestures wildly.
"Insolent children! If you don't believe me, then search the house for all I care!"
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Kara takes a calm and measured, but insistent tone.
Come now. There's no need to make a scene. We just want to know to what purpose the children are being put on their daily errands. We are already prepared to follow them, but if it comes to that, your lack of cooperation will weight heavily against you.
Come clean so that you may continue the good work you do here.
Searching the house, Lebraerio finds a drawer with a false bottom wherein there lies unused medical supplies from several different charities.
Auntie Baldwin seems quite surprised that you were able to find her secret stash and lets out a defeated sigh.
"Alright, you got me... At least I hope you wouldn't report a frail old lady like me. I'm to old for prison."
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We´re not going to report you to the authorities, but to Ollysta Zadrian.
If you don´t want to go prision, you MUST have thinking how are you going to repay her broken trust and how are you going to improve your orphanage and your way or life SAys Pyrgo hoping Ollysta has better plans than send the woman to prision and close the orphanage. She doesn´t deserve less, but we will do a diservice to the children if we force to the orphanage to close. Surely she know how the threat of jail can improve this woman behaviour
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Hearing the various disturbances coming from the house, Lizbeth looks in bemusement as Veilblade darts into the house. Deciding she wants nothing to do with the shenanigans her fellow agents are engaging in, the Vishkanya decides to keep the children calm and distracted from the goings on in Auntie's house, turning aside and leading questions and instead asking the children about their favourite games and places to go in Absalom.
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Lebraerio comes back to "Auntie", his eyes hard.
Could you please explain WHY you have medical supplies coming from different charities? I have an hard time believing Zadrain wouldn't give you enough money or medicines if gently asked. And if you are really using the medicines for the children, why would you hide the supplies into a false bottom? And don't tell me it's for the safety of the children. It was too well hidden for that.
Feeling that she has revealed to much, Auntie Baldwin goes silent and ushers you out the door.
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The short gray thing looks at Auntie Baltwin and then back at the party, but doesn't say much.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Back the Temple of the Shining Star, Ollysta greets you warmly.
Ah, you're back! Excellent. What can you tell me about Auntie Baltwin’s Home for Recovery?"
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Not very good news, to be honest. She uses the children for her own personal gain, making them work, drinks way too much, and, receiving medicines from at least three different charities-lying to these generous donators who probably think they are the only one-, sell the healing draughts to acquire more alcohol.
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With the rest of her group finished terrorizing old ladies and ransacking the house, Lizbeth leaves the children to their games with a smile and a friendly ruffle of the hair of the talkative one. Heading back to the ascendant court she greets Ollystra warmly.
"All in all the children were happy with her as she did treat them with stories and none of them seemed ill, one child mentioned the healthy ones go and help others to pay for room and board."
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"Well, It seems a rather hard-knock life for them. Instead of treated, they get tricked. Instead of kisses, they get kicked. They've got no folks to speak of, so, it's the hard-knock row they hoe. Empty bellies instead of full. It probably feels like the wind is always howling, and that there's never any light. There's not a day they wouldn't want to throw the towel in. It is easier than putting up a fight.... It's a hard-knock life."
"That, and I doubt they are getting a proper education."
After listening to your report, Ollysta sighs heavily.
"I try to see the best in people, but all to often they end up disappointing me... This is grave news that you bear, and I assure you, appropriate steps will be taken to ensure the safekeeping of the children.
You have done the Silver Crusade, but more importantly the children, a great service today, and I commend your efforts. I will send word to Ambrus Valsin, that you are indeed competent agents and can be trusted with more delicate matters.
Well, I have many things to see to, and I believe your day is not over yet either, so I bid you farewell, and may the light of the Dawnflower shine upon you."
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Lizbeth gives the leader of the Silver crusade a polite curtsey before turning on her heel and making her way out of the hustle and bustle of the ascendant court. As they left her eyes lit up and her pace became a tad more eager, to the docks, she had spent much of her life aboard a ship and could not wait to be back to the smell of salt air and the freedom that came with sea travel.
"Let us be on friends, is the last man that Guaril fellow?"
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Kara consults the notes.
Right you are. He's at the Pickled Imp. I think I know the way.
Is this the same place I went years ago, looking for spell components while I was still hiding my gift from Mumsie and Dadsie? It was so dirty. I doubt he would remember me, dressed as I was in multiple layers of baggy, wrinkled clothing. And I certainly don't remember him personally. Ah, well, Adventure!
You find your way down to the docks and "The Pickled Imp". 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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As they entered the pickled imp, Lizbeth browsed the shelves with a critical eye, some seemed to be genuine spell components, other shelves seemed filled with all manner of things to fleece the unsuspecting and the rich. Lizbeth found herself liking this Guaril fellow quite a bit.
"Three crows, sure that sounds perfectly accomplishable to me, it seems a few of us are adept in retrieval." She said with a faint laugh, before waiting an answer to Kara's excellent question.
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Pyrgo looks surprised to Guaril Karela proposition. I know society sometimes needs to be discrete, or even bypass local laws. But putting us to work for thieves?
Maybe they think of this as a kind of "practice", but this can put us at odds with Absalom authorities.
You had said the city will seize the warehouse, are you sure it hasn´t beed seized yet? Or worse, they´ll go to seize it as we´re inside? This will be very bad for us, and by association, for you. So I hope you´re sure we won´t be disturbed.
Guaril smiles a smile that makes your skin crawl.
"The warehouse is most likely locked, the key long gone, but that shouldn't stop such skilled agents as you.
The port authorities have not yet seized the property, so you should be able to go at it undisturbed."
You move down the the waterfront and locate the warehouse with ease. Perched on the end of a long 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.
The boat is crusted in salt, but serviceable.
There are no others at this end of the dock, so Lebraerio picks the lock without anyone noticing.
Opening the door, you are confronted with darkness, 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.