Leifer and Sons Discreet Imports is a coastal warehouse stretching over the edge of the Elexian harbor, it's rear end suspended over the water by thick, wooden stilts. From the streetside, the warehouse lives up to its name, keeping a humble appearance among its otherwise loudly decorated neighbors. The walls are a musty beige, slick and boring, and lacking any mention of the warehouse's name or purpose. There are two entrances at its front, one a normal sized door and the commonly used entrance, the other a set of heavy sliding doors made of copper, providing access for wagons and similar transport. Other warehouses and services adorn the harbor next to it, packed so densely that the alleys between them can't even fit two men standing shoulder to shoulder.
Elijah and Errol strolled towards the crowded doorway of the Discreet Imports, where a crowd of strangers hungry for work had already gathered. In their center was a coarse-looking oscaran with tanned skin, standing on some small platform to let him better see the men competing for his wages. Elijah clenched a fresh cigarette between his teeth as he rolled up his sleeves. "Good thing you got those horns to help you stand out. Skewer a coupe eyeballs, and we're guaranteed to be the only two still standing around."
Half a dozen offended faces turned towards Errol, and Elijah made a point of stepping away from the dryad. The Oscaran gave him a filthy, judging look. "You got something to say? Go ahead, prove yourself."
"We need the strong of arm, not the big of mouth. You got reason for us hire you, show it." All the other men still looked at Errol with curses in their eyes and slander on their lips. Elijah shrugged at him. With the focus on Errol, no attention was given to Bwah as he crept down road.
Errol had one hand tucked inside his jacket pocket, toying idly with the gambler's fallacy, the coin enhancing his social skills. He gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes and clasped his free hand around a nearby bag of grain. It wasn't an impressive weight to lift, but the dryad wanted to make it look effortless. He cast charisma and randomly prismed another casting of the spell, hoping for a body result but not really caring.
Errol- You want to screw around with tests or do you have some actual work that needs doing?
Errol's spirit-prismed Charisma seemed to strike a chord with the Oscaran. He gave a frown, and tried to mask the crack of his voice when he spoke. "Fine, then! If you insist, have it your way. You're in. It'll be new guy, Muel, Gile, Auronda. Rest of you can frolic off, that's all the hands we need today."
"Oi, piss**** is what that is," announced Elijah. "You need me more than any prancing pansy named Auronda." Attention in the group fell to what could be assumed a nadrask blackguard by its looks, but closer inspection would prove her to be the tallest, meanest elven lass you would never want to see. Men stepped out of the way as she closed in on Elijah. The man exhaled a gale of smoke, keeping a stern face for a long moment, but it crumpled up with Auronda threw a devilishly quick right hook, and Elijah was out for the count.
"The four of you head on in. And here's a gold for whoever drags that sorry son of an ass off to the church." The oscaran tossed a coin into the crowd, then hopped from his box to open the door to the Discreet Imports, and ushered Errol and the other chosen workers through.
The insides of the warehouse were larger than one would expect. It was a broad and deep space, filled with all manner of crates, sacks and barrels. The floor was open from the center of the room to the far end, revealing the dark waters of the Elexian coast. The far wall was open too, the hole wide and tall enough to fit a large boat, and sealed by a portcullis that fell to the seabed. Along each side wall were several doors, and at the front corners were staircases leading up to catwalks and rafter storage.
There were already near half a dozen workers shifting between the goods, moving things about the place. Greeting them at the door stood an armored human with the Peacekeepers sigil embossed on the back of his gauntlets. He was a tall man, broad and hard of face and with a pale scar running down across his chin. He nodded to the other three recruits with recognition, but stopped Errol as the dryad entered. "Name?"
**Bwah meanwhile had slowly approached the warehouse, moved to the least visible area of the outside, near where it overhung the sea. Finding the walls slick, he resorted to his tiny grappling hook to try and scale the wall out over the water. He is looking for a means of getting in up at the top, a window or vent of some sort, above normal eyelines.**
The guard patted Errol down, snatching the dryad's forest blade as he found it. He gave it a quick look over before handing it back. "Personal belongings are kept through the middle door on southside. Leave your staff and knife there. Then see Ameré." He pointed towards the warehouse's atarin manager.
Atop the warehouse, Bwah found a pair of vents on the rear end of the building, roughly near where the portcullis would be.
Errol tucked his picks into the back of his trousers as he gathered up and put his jacket back on. He held the staff and dagger in the same hand as he wandered over to the northside of the building. He quickly scoped out the layout before seeming to remember where he was going, pointing south and heading for the designated door.
Errol grabbed a box and set to work, trying to get his bearings as quickly as possible so that he could figure out the place's routine. As he put the first box in place he spoke aloud to noone in particularly.
One of the nearby workers heard him. "Large shipment coming in a couple hours, gotta get the place organized. Ameré might be a gentle atarin, but if the current cargo isn't moved 'fore the ship gets in, he won't hesitate to replace any of us."
"Ship gets in in an hour. Then we gotta sort out the cargo, deliver it and get back, and the longer it takes, the more they gotta pay us. Don't underestimate the cheapskates that run this town, they'll fight for every penny they can save. You must be new in Elexia. I'm Piche." The man extended a hand.