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"Well yea, of course I know her and her kids. She's a mean spirited ol' cuss, that one. I know she does some great things for the kids. Children come in sick and go out healthy almost without fail, but she's got a mean side for sure." He grins. "She does keep my fine liquor suppliers in business though, and for that I love her!"
"Excellent! YES! These are perfect. The Society is getting exactly what they want, and now they shall give me what I want! That young pathfinders, is the perfect example of a mutually beneficial relationship! Please wait here while my money men count out a suitable reward! A short time later, you are served a light fruit juice and a small plate of cookies as refreshments while to enjoy while you watch a few waifs who struggle to bring a medium sized chest into the room. The open it and begin to count, separating stacks of gold pieces evenly. The last item in the chest is a small bundle wrapped in cloth with a tag hanging from the string, which reads: "Master Twitnit"
The Varisian looks a little annoyed. "Did you pups give your Venture Captain this much grief? Sheesh. I don't know who or whats creepin' in that warehouse, or what exactly my colleague did to get into so much trouble." Pooka surmises that the man might not be telling them everything, but that probably comes from a private nature rather than any planned malign intent. When the gnome asks for sweets, he grins. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about! Someone who knows what he likes! You bring my crate back, I'll give you a whole pocketful of rare Shackles Isles candy sticks."
The shopkeeper, a greasy-haired Varisian with a thin mustache, shouts from
“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.
He smiles. It does not put you at ease. 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.” |
