Ambrus Valsin, the venture-captain in charge of daily operations in and around the Grand Lodge, storms into the meeting room and sits down. All right, Pathfinders! Listen up. I know you are new recruits 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.
He slides a envelope over to the party, looks at the group and shakes his head, 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. He takes a deep breath as he continues, 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. For every friend of the Society, there are two enemies. So we got to make sure we treat our friend with respect and help them out from time to time.
Your first mission, is to test your mettle and loyalties. It sends you to meet a few people very important to the Society, living here in Absalom. These are other venture-captains or close allies of our organization, He stops and eyes the party to make sure everyone was listening. That list of tasks are not arranged in any particular order of importance, but I want them all completed as quickly as possible. He gathers the rest of his paperwork and stands ready to leave, Only report to me once you complete everything. Included in the envelope is the list, complete with the name of your contact, and directions to the meeting location. With a nod he heads for the door. You only have a moment to ask any questions you might have before he is off to attend other business.
The door opend and a tiny dinosaur-ian creature jets into the room and makes a bunch of short bursts, darting from one spot to the next. Stopping to look around, then darting about 15' and doing the same. It reminds you of the mannorisms of a wild squirrel. After several scans around the room, it's last stop has it facing the doorway. It makes a few audible squeeks and clicks as if signaling something or someone.
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Theon greets his fellow Pathfinders with a nod and just as he is about to introduce himself the little reptilian creature suddenly begins darting around the room. "Bah! Little vermin, who let you in?" The young Taldan behinds his left wrist and a dagger springs into his hand. "Worry not, I shall dispatch of this creature." He stands with dagger in hand.
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A medium tiefling confidently walks into the room. Long claws on both hands and a tail flowing behind him like a serpent.
"I would advise against that course of action!" Akvius turns and shoots a stern look at the tiny dinosaur. [b]"Gleek! Enough." Akvius twitches his head and without any further words the tiny dinosaur seems to react immediately as if given specific commands. The tiny creature scurries off to the side of the room and under some furniture.
"Please excuse Gleek. He seems to forget that he is presence is not commonplace here. Where are my mannors? My name is Akvius Sirthos. I'm what the people of this material plane would callously call a witch, or warlock, if you prefer. I commune with a powerful entity from another plane who grants me various favors. These favors are most commonly manifested to hinder and weaken my adversaries." Akvius pauses for a moment in reflection, "Probably the reason why my name is so often requested for my lodges assignments. Somehow this group has levied favor and will be granted success from my assistance. Please don't drive yourself insane trying to understand these gifts, just enjoy the ease of our given tasks." Akvius walks over to a chair near where the tiny dinosaur retreated, sits down, and concludes, [b]"Enough about me, so that I may better assess our party. What do each of you bring to this collaboration?"
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Theon stops and looks up at the tiefling when he steps into the room. "Ah, a familiar then. Sorry little fellow." Theon sits back down and slips his dagger back into the sheath, while resetting the spring as Akvius gives his oral resume.
Afterwards Theon offers his hand to Akvius from across the table. "Well met, Akvius. My name is Theon d'Malheur, my talents are more of the martial variety; however, unlike the common warrior I also have a keen thirst for knowledge. I do so enjoy perusing a tome on ancient Thassilon just as much as keeping my sword arm strong and hale. I look forward to seeing your talents in the field, sir. What about the rest of you?" He glances over at the kitsune, halfling, and other tiefling in the room.
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Gleek is adorable! Will you let him come back out and play?
Addressing all present parties, I'm not sure yet what I want to do for the Society. This is a bit of a trial run for me. I made it through training, muttering, on my own gosh darn it, and I am trying what I hope is a simple mission, to see if I can hold my own out in what some have called "The Real World".
Slight scowl touches her muzzle, I've been told I'm too dainty to do any good.
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Roscoe watches the lizard running through the lodge from a corner chair and a smile spreads across his face. Nothing like a little mischief to start the day. A small chuckle comes out of the halfling as he watches the brutish tiefling running through the lodge displacing everything in his path trying to catch the little lizard. Apparently he didn't hear the witch saying to let him be. This should make for some interesting interactions.
Roscoe quits watching the lizard and goes back to reading the book in his lap. His brown hair is short and tidy and he wears a plain looking black vest over top his leather armor. The part most noticeable however is the vials dangling from his waist, ranging in colors from red to green to yellow. Beside him on the floor rests his backpack, and within arms reach his halfling sized crossbow.
Upon hearing Theon ask everyone their specialities, and feeling the eyes of the man land upon him, Roscoe looks up to the group. Quite a bunch we have here, we won't stand out at all. Two tieflings, one with a tiny dragon running around, a fox lady, and this human with all the weapons strapped to him. Not to mention myself at that thought Roscoe chuckles to himself. Should be a fun adventure indeed.
"I'm Roscoe Shortwick, so called because my family has had a long history of, shall we say, dabbling with explosives. My surname, as you could guess, was given to us by others in the community because of my great-grandfathers mishap with a bomb. Needless to say, if you don't give yourself enough time to duck and cover things tend to end badly for you!" Roscoe smiles at the party, hoping his smallish stature and his family's tale will bring about a little laughter to the group. "My grandfather, and father, and now me have all followed his footsteps, only we've improved upon some of his early formulae, as well as made sure the wick on the bombs was a little longer. But enough about family history..." Roscoe says as he trails off for a short moment "I'll be the groups bomb, explosive, all things fun expert. Glad to meet you all." With that last statement Roscoe begins walking around the room shaking everyone's hand, starting with Theon.
Upon reaching Akvius, Roscoe looks at Gleek "Cute little fella. Where did you find this little guy? Wouldn't mind having one myself just for the entertainment," he says with a grin. "Although, I'd have to teach mine to be careful in the workshop, don't need any unexpected explosions you know?"
Gleek pops out from under some rubble on the opposite side of the room from where he was thrown. It shoots a determined look of aggression at the bumbling fighter. Some green ooze starts to drip from his miniature canines and he darts in a zig zag pattern charge towards Maldrek.
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"Gleek!" Akvius sternly exclaims. Immidiately the tiny dinosaur stops his forward movement, looks back at Akvius, darts back to Akvius's feet, and disappears under his robes.
"Sir Maldrek, my dim witted colleage, that is not a promising start to our collaboration." Akvius chuckles slightly, "Luckily, for you, the weak minded are easily fooled by simple parlor tricks and illusions." His face changes to serious, "Had that been a real event, AND you not be share a possible ancestor with me, the consequences would be much more severe. As a quick lesson, those like me channel their power from powerful entities through our familiars. I will not be able to hold my patron's wrath if it's vessel is harmed. As a side note, Gleek's bite is venomous. I urge you to heed my advice in the future."
Akvius points out the checklist, "I am a more methodlogical thinker, bordering on OCD, I would cast my vote for attempting each task in order as printed."
The small dinosaur leads the team down the streets of Absalom like a circus parade. As you get into the docks district the building become more derelict and inhabitants less friendly. Down a garbage strewn ally you finally find 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, is conversing with well dressed Qadiran businessman man in hushed tones as you make your way to the back of the shop. Once they spot you they both look up though the Varisian is the first to speak:
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 over and let me tell you what I... the Qadiran man gives him a look, I mean we 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 and this gentleman is, Tra...
Trade Prince Aaqir al’Hakam of House Damaq Interrupts the Qadiran giving the pary a respectful bow.
Guaril continues with out missing a beat, A friend of mine has a warehouse near here and he received a parcel on behalf of me and my associate, but... there’s a problem. See, Master Gelbane had to leave town in a hurry and our shipment is still waiting at his warehouse.
I have tried to procure our goods though all my regular contacts but have been gotten no where, except buried in red tape. the Trade Prince adds in a frustrated voice.
See, rumor is my friend ended up in trouble with the law and the place was seized. I’m worried that once things get sorted out, the city will seize everything in the warehouse Including our merchandise. My friend kept 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.
Those are the items that we would like you to retrieve for us. Before they are confiscated by the authorities and sold off to pay for that mans debts.
You can help yourself to the rest of the crate. Honestly, anything else you want in the place too. Consider it your fee. Guaril adds with a smile.
Guaril chuckles at the comment but the Trade Prince does not find it amusing.
Entering the warehouse and retrieving the items are illegal actions, technically speaking. We required aid of low ranking pathfinders to accomplish this task so that we may... for a moment Aaqir seems to be trying to find a eloquent way of stating his point.
We don't want to get our hands dirty. the Varisian shop owner interjects while twirling his mustache.
While not entirely please with the analogy Aaqir does not offer up any of his own.
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Ky'ang comes rushing up to The Pickled Imp, breathing hard. She is wearing furs and looks completely out of place, despite the fact that she clearly has a Glyph of the Open Road on her belt. Carved in by her own hand.
"Many apologies...I overslept! It was so nice and warm in the Grand Lodge, I did not realize it had gotten so late."
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"So you need us to break in and steal something for you? Not exactly what I expected to be doing on my first mission as a Pathfinder" Roscoe trails off. "But I suppose they wouldn't send us on this mission if it didn't need to get done. Is there anything we should know about this warehouse and what we may, or may not, run into while we are there?"
You are not steeling. The Trade Prince says defensively. The goods within are ours and should have been turned over to us. Unfortunately due to the circumstances they will end up being lost in the bureaucracy of Absalom's lower courts.
Guaril steps in when asked about the warhouse, It's called the Old Pelican and it's bout 2 blocks east down on the water at the end of a long wooden pier. You can't miss it. No guardians or traps, the best thing about the Pelican is that nobody pays attention to it.
Guaril can't help but chuckle at Maldrek's question and Aaqir ignores it pointedly.
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Theon remains quiet during the initial introductions and questions; however, he laughs heartily at Maldrek's faux pas. "Good Maldrek, perhaps you should leave the questions to those of us who a bit more... shall we say, sagacious?"
He then turns toward the Trade Prince. "Milord, you must forgive my benighted comrade. I apologize for his brash words, he does not know any better." He bows with a dramatic flourish and turns toward Guaril. "Worry not, sir, we shall complete the mission at hand. You can count of us to fulfill our duty to the Society."
He looks over his shoulder to his comrades. "We have our mission, let us be on our way?"
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What a rude prince. Is it a crime to strangle princes were the stand. Soon you might be called Prince Worm Food. The tiefling says his body now fully erect, massive wall of muscle he calls a chest out with his shoulders back.
He turns to Theon, You should see a priest about that, it sounds contagious.
He then turns to Zarlonna, Is there anything you can do about Theon's sad gashes.
Theon, who's knighted I thought we were Pathfinders?
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What a rude prince. Is it a crime to strangle princes were the stand. The tiefling says his body now fully erect, massive wall of muscle he calls a chest out with his shoulders back.
He turns to Theon, You should see a priest about that, it sounds contagious.
Theon turns to gaze at Maldrek. "Yes, it most definitely is illegal to strangle princes, Maldrek." He shakes his head, smiling to himself; however, he turns back around to look back at Maldrek with a bemused look at the tieflings next words. "No, not Knighted with a 'K', benigt---Oh nevermind."
He cannot help but chuckle at the tiefling and the strange group of Pathfinders he found himself accompanying. "I feel like I'm in the beginnings of a bad joke... A halfling, a kitsune, two tieflings, and a couple of humans walk into a bar..."
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Oh, he needs a healer? I thought you could fix the sad gashes and make them happy. I mean you do look pretty funny. He turns back to the Trade Prince, Wormy, get a healer here quick. My friend has Sad Gashes and you don't want it.
He pauses to think about it for a minute. Could I get Sad Gashes being around him? I'll wait outside. He elbows Zarlonna, It's Sad Gashes free air out there.
Upon waiting outside Maldrek will get bored and head towards the Dock to retrieve the crate.
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Ky'ang smiles as they talk about healing, "Be well, fellow Pathfinders, I did not come without some ability to take care of my companions. It may take a bit out of me...or perhaps the person injured, but I can use the healing properties of water to cleanse wounds. I assure you...we are in good hands," she says with a nod as she gives a firm nod to both the Trade Prince and the Sczarni as they leave.
As expected, Gleek continues to dart short distances, stops, looks around, darts in a different direction. Always keeping enough distance to quickly get away from anyone who comes within 5'-10'.
Aaqir al’Hakam of House Damaq
(N male human aristocrat 2/diviner 7/rogue 3)
As you are leaving the shop you turn back to give the Prince a dirty look and see him finish a make a furnish of his hand a utter a weird word. Smiling he walks up to you and whispers You should be more polite. Much, much, more polite. And with that he closes the shop door.
You feel strangly complelled to obey him and be very polite.
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.
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Roscoe enjoys over hearing the interactions between Maldrek and the rest of the party. Comedic relief, if only the poor sap truly understood. Oh well, makes things interesting at least he thinks as a smile spreads across his face.
The little halfling pipes up, "Sounds like the only thing left to do is get this item then." As Roscoe is speaking he notices Maldrek walking off in the direction of the docks, so he runs to catch up.
"Surely you don't intend to go into this warehouse on your own do you? You can't pick it up and throw it you know?" Roscoe chuckles a little at his last statement. Best be a little careful, I'm sure this guy wouldn't have any difficulty using me as a throwing weapon. "Besides, even if you could pick up the warehouse, there is probably easier ways to go about this."
"Maybe the front door is unlocked?" Roscoe will try the door handle to the warehouse to see if by chance it is already unlocked for the party. If not, he will look around for any other noticeable entrance.
I don't' think its possible:
From the Additional Rules Chapter of the Core Rule book:
Energy Attacks: Energy attacks deal half damage to most objects. Divide the damage by 2 before applying the object's hardness. Some energy types might be particularly effective against certain objects, subject to GM discretion. For example, fire might do full damage against parchment, cloth, and other objects that burn easily. Sonic might do full damage against glass and crystal objects.
From the Environment Chapter of the Core Rule book:
treat the typical lock as having hardness 15 and 30 hit points.
You can't do more that 32 points of damage with an attack and you have no way of reducing the lock's Hardness.
@ Maldrek please roll some Str checks instead.
Edit: Nevermind that is enough to 'Knock" down the door.
The Door Crashes to the floor and the cockroaches inside go scurrying into the shadows. TDarkness 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. 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.