"Well, ... due to a serious lack of maids at the moment it is more convenient than using a bedroom without a bed upstairs."
"Take a seat. Tea anyone?"
"Yes please. Do we have cake left?"
"Yes." Persephone cuts the remaining cake in three pieces, puts it on three plates and serves it.
Then she goes back to preparing the tea.
Locke enjoys the cake and the tea, but decides to stay at The Pig's Whistle for the night. It is paid for and the house doesn't look very inviting. More like squatting in an abandoned building.
The next morning she has to get up early to join the start of the next mission though.
Once Locke left Persephone goes to bed early to be fit for the early morning mission.
But as she wakes up, she feels like shit. She has cold sweat on her forehead and shivers.
"Great. Filthy rats."
"Are you ready?" Faerveren comes asks in a chipper mood. As she enters the room and gets a view of Persephone she is alarmed. "You don't look well."
"I don't feel very well but I can handle it. One of those stupid rats must have infected me with filth fever."
"But I only need to keep watch, today is your day."
Outside of the house Faerveren and Persephone meet with Locke and together they walk to the docks.
The docks are the same dirty mess as always but with less people around. On the ships it is mostly silent, only the watch makes their rounds. Ashore most people that are not asleep are in the taverns, drinking, singing, or brawling. Every now and then a drunk and tired seaman staggers from a tavern to their ship.
The warehouses are all closed and locked up.
"Whistle if someone comes that might cause trouble." Faerveren requests and then climbs up the brick wall of the warehouse, looking for an entrance.
"Before we do that, we try magic." Isabella objects and cast message on all.
The warehouse has some small holes in the wall near the top of the gable for ventilation. On the roof there are some windows to let light into the building. The building is about 50 by 30 yards large. On each half of the roof are three windows of two by three foot size. The windows don't open. The roof is covered with copper sheets.
Faerveren takes a close look to see where the structure of the roof is. If there are no visible clues, she carefully tries putting some weight on places to see how they react. She also looks for damage, openings that allow her to get in. If there is no obvious entrance, she moves to the first window and tries to look into the warehouse.
When the moon is out it allows to see over the whole roof and wide areas of the town too. But when the clouds cover the moon, it becomes dark and only the lights in the windows of the town can be seen. And the windows of the warehouse are dark.
There is no obvious damage, and the structure of the roof is easily found. But stepping besides it, and if only to feel it out, has the sheet snap with an uncomfortably loud noise that repeats when it is released.
Looking inside the warehouse is impossible, as it is dark like the inside of a bear's arse.
Faerveren grabs the ioun torch from her pocket and holds it on the glass, covering it with her hand to prevent someone inside from seeing her.
The light barely manages to reach the ground. Rows of stacked crates become visible, and in the corner a walled off area that seems to be a kind of office.
"Oh, f#%% it." Faerveren states. She takes out the crowbar and bents open the roof close to the wall, above some high stacked crates. As far as she can tell.
The roof is easily bent open. But it will be hard to bent it back to make it tight again. Squeezing in and climbing down Faerveren reaches the top of the crates.
Just then the door opens and two of Marinelli's thugs come in. They carry a bullseye lantern, whose beam of light cuts through the darkness. The thugs are joking about a maryll who seems to make a lot of sailors happy. Which culminates in "What You had her shiver your timbers? That's like a dare to see if your dick falls off!" One man pulls the other's leg. "F!+$ off. Like you would push her out of the bed." All while walking their round and shining the light down every aisle.
As the door opens, Faerveren drops flat on the crates, breathes only shallow and tries not to be noticed.
"Hey there was something! Light there!" One of the thugs demands, pointing towards where Faerveren is.
Faerveren rolls down from the crates and towards the corner, where she climbs the wall up until she is under the roof.
The thug lights the place, but there is nothing. "I've seen something. Let's go check!"
The other one who has a bald head complains "What have you seen? A rat? My beer is getting stale."
"We check that. Come along. If Marinelli finds us slacking and something gets stolen, there you'd get a chance to lose your dick, without having fun first."
They both walk around the aisle and check thoroughly if there was something or not.
"See, I told you there is nothing." says the bald one and smacks the other one at the back of the head. They finish their round and leave, locking the door behind them.
With the night watch being gone Faerveren hurries over to the office like cube. She tries the door, the tools at the ready should the door be locked.
The door isn't locked. Inside there is a desk and a simple wooden chair. A clipboard lies on it with an empty form on it to count inventory. There are some dark stains on the floor, that on closer inspection are dried blood.
After that total and utter disappointment, Faerveren turns towards the crates and checks if there is any way to tell what is inside without opening them.
There is no content labeling, but most crates are made crudely, and allow peeking in. Most contain bulk wares. Grain, metal, simple fabric, potatoes, slow perishing vegetables, empty bottles. It's disappointing. There might be more valuable goods, but finding them would take some serious time, and opening some crates.
F%&~. This is a complete waste of time. She climbs the wall again, and onto the roof. She puts the metal sheet back to make the breaking and entering less obvious and climbs down to the others.
"That doesn't work. There is a patrol that keeps watch and there is all kind of garbage stored. No chance to quickly find something of value. No sign of the wine. Sorry guys, but we need another plan."
"It is getting cold anyway. Do we go back, maybe for a late beer?" Persephone suggests.
Meanwhile at the pigs whistle.
Most of the usual customers are there, making the night into day, with their joyous music, playing of card games for coin and bragging about their deeds one louder than the next.
Isabella again can't serve the drinks fast enough, as she is alone with no help in the kitchen or at the bar again.
The door to the Pig's Whistle opens. A tall thin man steps through and glances around the room once quickly. He motions a woman through. They wear cloaks with the hoods about their shoulders.
The woman is of average height and build. She leads their way to the bar where they remain patiently standing next to empty stools.
After a few minutes of watching Isabella, the female whispers to the male who nods his head. She picks the right moment to approach. "I am Arawyn. How may I help? You certainly could use some."
Isabella freezes in her movement, surprised by the request. She musters the elf, but the request seems honest. "We have a job opening for someone able to serve the guests and work the kitchen. Pay is a silver per day. If you want to start right away, get behind the counter and start pouring a dozen mugs of ale."
Arawyn moves behind the counter and begins pouring ale into mugs as quickly as she can without producing too much of a head.
Persephone walks together with the others back to The Pig's Whistle. With all the ruckus, in the tavern she first looks into the room what's going on with the regulars. "An ale please." she orders halfway in, and looking over to the bar to greet Isabella she addes surprised "Who are you?"
"Arawyn. And you?"
"Persephone. I see Isabella finally found someone willing to work here." She looks at Arawyn in anticipation.
"I'll take an ale too." Faerveren tells and takes the a seat at the bar.
As she sets an ale in front of Persephone, she replies "I'm not sure that I have been hired. It was so obvious poor Isabella needed help I just had to do something." She sets the next ale in front of Faerveren. "Hi. I am Arawyn. Is it always like this here? So busy."
"I see you carry a rapier. My favorite weapon. Do you train regularly? Do you have a certain style? My style is just swinging metal at this point but I do intend to hone my skills. I train and I teach when the opportunities arise."
"Nah. I use it when I have to. But I'm not that much into fighting." Faerveren replies. "But if you need an opportunity, I can try to start a fight for you." she suggests with a mischievous smile.
Inkskin sees how it goes with the talk and decides to check in with the troupe that entertains the tavern with performances of songs. She feels the need to change the selection more to sailor's songs.
"I'll take an ale over there." she tells Isabella on the way over. As the current song ends she intones one herself.
"I thought I heard the Old Man say
"Leave her, Johnny, leave her"
Tomorrow ye will get your pay
And it's time for us to leave her"
The bards decline to be outdone by some sailor chick and join in as a concerted choir on the second line.
Arawyn replies to Faerveren's offer. "I am sure you could but I must decline. So many ales to be poured."
Menan seems particularly entertained by the revelry. As soon as the song is finished Arawyn instructs Menan "Menan. Please be polite and introduce yourself. This is Menan."
"Ladies, the pleasure is mine. Please, call me Menan." He smiles and tips his ale for you before taking a sip.
"Menan and I are travelers originally from Kyonin. We live off the land for the most part as we have yet to find a place that suits us. We do enjoy the traveling, seeing new places and different traditions and architectures and that may just be our destiny. We are here now because our path takes us in this direction. It is our belief that some of our ancestors were placed to rest here many, many years ago. Was this called Seacrest at some point?"
Kyonin!" Menan fakes a spit. "It should surprise you that I do not care for most elves. Especially royalty and those who would cozy up to them. They look down on other races and treat them with disdain or as mere objects. Their clerics of the large cathedrals do not espouse what I know to be true in my heart. So we moved about Kyonin. We found the city of Greengold that is the only place in Kyonin that races other than elves are allowed. A nice place but I suspect the queen did this for purely economic reasons. There is a separate city that is mostly half-elves. A nice place but still under the queen's rod. I think Andoran may be the land of true freedom, or at least the best that Golarion will allow. My suspicion is that this is just an illusion and is ruled by those cut from the same cloth as royalty of any race. If not now, surely the future will harbor this evil. Please forgive my pessimism. It is a frustrating world we live in." Apparently Menan does not need much ale for lubrication.
"I have no clue if the name was not Abadon in ancient times. You could ask Norm if he is here." Persephone looks around the room to catch a glimpse of the guy. "Don't see him, hasn't been here for a day or two..."
Replying to Menan's rant she adds "I can assure you, there are a*#~~#*s everywhere and race is just another lame excuse to be an a#+*%@$ to others. They'll always find a reason."
"About your ancestors, you could ask in the House of Flame, assuming Calistrian Priests do burials too. Or check with the cemetery, where Pharasma has a chapel."
"How many centuries dead are we talking?" Faerveren inquires.
Menan nods his head as Persephone acknowledges his observations."Pharasma's cemetery. Where might we find it?"
He responds "4.67" to Faerveren.
"I don't think I've seen a grave that was even close to that old."
Thinking about it she adds "Not to sound ignorant, but I thought elves had other burial rites than putting the dead in the ground with a headstone, no? At least the House of Flame has no cemetery attached, and it's the only elven temple I know."
"But anyway, you leave here, turn left, down the road for about 200 yards, and then left again uphill. It covers a whole block, so it's hard to miss. It is surrounded by stone walls."