Guaril Karela, Entrepreneur's page

The party returns to to the Pickled Imp with the contents of the mahogany box to give to Guaril Karela. The sign on his door has been flipped to 'closed' but the door itself is unlocked. Karela is inside dusting a weapon display case with a plaque that reads: Wave, Whelm and Blackrazor.

"Ah friends you are back! I was just beginning to worry. So let me see." He opens the crate and scans through it's contents. "Yes, this is it! I knew I could count on you." He winks at Esper.

"If there is ever anything this truly humble shopkeeper can do for you, you need only ask. Especially you, my lovely persimmon snip...." He says to Esper. Karela's eyebrows move up and down a couple of times.

"But you will have to excuse me now. It is almost sunset, and the coven I rent this space to likes to get an early start."

That and a bit more.

“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."

[dice=Sense motive]1d20+4 Do I sense that he's hiding something?

Ramachandra considers the offer. If the authorities were involved, it gave him cause for concern as it did the others.

Sense Motive

Have you guys ever used detect magic or detect evil in the presence of an overwhelming aura? Yeah. It's like that. If this were done in rounds you would both be stunned for a round.

Guaril smiles in a way he thinks seems winning.

"Did your friend have any other ways into the warehouse? Have you done any scouting to see what the town guard is like over there? Did he have any traps set up and brag about?"

"Other ways in? Plane shift I believe he called it. There's these planes that block the entryways that you have to shift aside if you want to get in. 'Doors', I think they're called."

"Oh, I've seen the city guard over there, and it is ugly. Have you ever seen Corporal Nobs up close? He's the one with the boils. He's does tricks with them."

"Traps? No, I think the premises is dangerously rundown enough."

"So you'll do it." it's not quite a question the way Guaril says it.

”Why it sounds like that might be illegal! How do we know the property is actually yours? I want the Society to like me, but this seems a bit shady,” Perrine grumbles to the others.

"Shady? Me?" says Guaril, the most shocked, and hurt person ever.

Einarr scratches his head...

"Seems like an odd request..."

"Ahahah. My friend. You never get a second chance to make a first impression. Has anyone spoken to you about Mother Rumple's Country Dandruff Suppressor? It is the all-natural dandruff cure-all. Pick up two boxes today as part of our Two-For-Onish-Toilsday Special"

"I'm sure Ambrus knew before hand of how Guaril's business transactions work. Wonder how many other beginner pathfinders have disappeared in similar cases? I just know I can't get this chamber pot splatter off me till our list is done..."

"And perhaps for the effluent man-about-town, I might interest you in some eau de toilette all the way from exotic Qadira. These aromatic waters can tame the most odious odor guaranteed. Ugh. Buy two! It is Two-For-Onish-Toilsday!"

Esper considers the Varisians request. "I could always use a favour..." she replies with a smile. "Which warehouse is Gelbane's?"

"I am glad you asked! Such a bright one. This will go far you all mark me. But for now my brilliant persimmon snip you just have to go here."

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.”

The party returns to to the Pickled Imp with the mahogany box to give to Guaril Karela. The sign on his door has been flipped to 'closed' but the door itself is unlocked. Karela is inside dusting a weapon display case with a plaque that reads: Wave, Whelm and Blackrazor.

"Ah friends you are back! I was just beginning to worry. So let me see." He opens the crate and scans through it's contents. "Yes, this is it! I knew I could count on you." He winks at Jeanne.

"If there is ever anything this truly humble shopkeeper can do for you, you need only ask. Especially you, my knight in shining armor...." He says smiling, his eyes coming to meet with Jeanne's. Karela's eyebrows move up and down a couple of times.

"But you will have to excuse me now. It is almost sunset, and the coven I rent this space to likes to get an early start."

Is the one that is staring at us the same person who is talking to us?

You can click "Entrepreneur" in Karela's tag line for a picture of who you are talking to.

"'PROOF?'" He sputters it like it was some terrible curse word. "You deal to me a terrible wound. I thought you to be a woman of faith. Is my word not good enough?"

"No guards. Trust me. Though you probably still want to be circumspect. I mean people will talk if you go in all crowbars a'blazing; If you take my meaning. That wouldn't be good for anyone's career, right?" Karela says eyeing the party.

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.”