Selene approaches the squat, four-foot door with deliberate slowness, the mud barely clinging to her boots despite the filth around them.

“A charming little portal,” she murmurs, voice low and dry. “Exactly the sort of thing one builds when one plans never to answer it.”

As she finishes her thought,  her gaze drifts, drawn not to the door, but the barn-style addition to the left.

Without a word, Selene rises, motions softly for the others to hold position, and moves to the barn.  She approaches the doors and peers through the open seam created between them due to the loose knotting of the rope,. Her pupils dilate unnaturally as her darkvision flares to life, scanning the dark interior.

She listens for movement while she looks for the shape of something out of place or something lying in wait.

Perception check: 18+3=21

With the door coming only to Thamul's middle he decides it's better he'd stay outside looking for any onlookers.

"You guys go in, I'll stay here as I don't think I'll fit in there. Also, better to check for onlookers aswell."

Perception: 21

Selene peeks through the crack in the barn doors, and spots a imposing creature stood docile in the darkness. It seems like some sort of wolf to her at first, but as she scans it further, she identifies it as a worg, however it doesn't seem to have noticed her at all. She then notices that nestled in its grey fur about its neck is a wooden harness, similar to the kind oxen would wear to plough a field. Tilting her head around to look into the barn from a different perspective, she notices that the harness attaches itself to a wagon, which has some nondescript large object covered in tarp on it. She assumes this must be the cargo the party will be transporting.

Meanwhile, Thamul looks around for any onlookers. You're far enough into the outskirts to be in one of the few areas of the city that haven't be overdeveloped, and therefore overpopulated, so the muddy roads and tracks around the house are silent. The rain and the occasional rumble of thunder is the only thing that Thamul can hear, and he can't see anybody else aside from the party.

While Selene wisely checks the barn and Thamul offers to keep watch, Zifni steps up to the short-statured door , bends down and brings his knuckles up to rap on it. His knocks are quiet at first and then louder to ensure their contact can hear him.

He takes a step back to wait for a response.

He has come prepared with a long, gnarled piece of driftwood in one hand (a staff that he is rarely seen without), and his simple wooden shield strapped to his back.

"Ah, what a lovely abode.  Brings back fond memories of my childhood home.  Those were my wonder years.  Later, I fell on hard times..."

Tanis' drawl is the usual quiet monotone, emanating from the shadows in which he habitually skulks.  As the others look into the structure and knock, or stand guard, the ranger busies himself trying to search for tracks outside indicating the nature of foot traffic to and from the location.

Looking for small tracks matching a small humanoid for whom the small door may have been built, larger tracks for a beast of burden, any others... Unfortunately the incessant rain and pervasive gloom make it difficult for him to make out much in the muck.  Survival:  9

Even though he doesn't see anyone Thamul takes the time to get his shield from his back to don and a light hammer in his other hand.

Kain is going to slip his shortbow off his back and align an arrow while slipping around the corner of the shack sticking to the shadows to remain unseen.

Kain prepares for the worst whilst Zifni bends down to knock on the door. Tanis finds that by the shed entrance and front door, there's clearly more wear in the mud compared to other areas in front of the house, so at least that's confirmation both doors are used regularly, but the rain has dashed any chances of spotting any clear tracks. It takes you a good few knocks before the owner comes to the door, which is answered by a goblin wearing an apron splattered with what looks like clay and paint. They stare at you for a moment, perplexed as to why there are people outside their home, before their eyes narrow and they ask in a raspy voice, 'You are hear to do my delivery, yes?' There is no introduction as to who they are, or an invitation inside from the rain, and the goblin seems more irritated that they've been distracted from their work than they are grateful to have somebody take up the job.

 Selene slips from the peering through the barn door as the goblin creaks open the squat door, Zifni crouched beside it. Her voice cuts across the rain without warning.

“What is its name?”

Selene appears at the edge of the small door, her hood drawn back just enough to reveal her pale features, framed by rain-damp hair that clings to her face. She stares past the goblin trying to see beyond him and get a glimpse of the inside of his studio.

“The worg. You’ve named it, haven’t you?”

She lets the question hang in the air, watching the goblin's face for a flicker of recognition or confusion. Her tone strikes a balance between casual and aggressive.

Folding her hands neatly before her, she waits for either a name, or a reason to escalate.

Zifni slips back a few steps away from the door to give the goblin the chance to see their full party, just in case he was contemplating anything rash. The genasi seems unperturbed by the rain as it slicks his hair against his head.

Tanis lets the others do most of the talking, but some ways from the door, his long face quirks a crooked smile at the sight of the disgruntled goblin.

He affects a deep, seemingly sincere bow, shortsword in hand.  "At your service, Maestro."

Kain will step backwards out of the shadows and replace his bow across his shoulder, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger before resting on the goblin. He adjusts the collar of his dark cloak and crosses his arms across his chest before assuming a relaxed posture, his two hands resting on his twin daggers in case anything goes awry.

The goblin tilts his head to look at Selene, and drily says 'Marrow. I should probably introduce you properly, rather than having you snoop.' He gives Tanis a funny look in reaction to his bow, and doesn't thank him for it, instead just waves a hand to clear the way and walks around to the barn to unlatch the rope, which requires him to reach his arms above his head to do so. The barn doors then creak open, and the worg blinks a few times, licking their lips and doing what looks like grinning at you. The goblin walks in and leads it out into the rain, to which Marrow grumbles, and tells you the following. 'Slap his hind and he'll walk. Pull the reins and he'll stop. Easy as. The art-piece stays covered; it isn't your business what it is, and neither me or the client want it getting wet. The address is House Crawlthing, in the Inner City. The client has paid in advance, so all you need is a signature from them. On return you'll get your promised cut. Now, if you somehow get Marrow killed, I'll have you in the harness next, and if the art-piece is broken or stolen, you'll be answering to the client's wrath, so make sure neither of those things happen, alright?' If you don't have any questions, the goblin will assume you're clear on the instructions, so will let you get on with it and head inside to shelter from the storm without another word.

Marrow 

Selene's expression relaxes into something resembling approval, or at least, the closest she ever offers.

As the doors to the barn creak and Marrow emerges, Selene steps slightly aside, her pale hand brushing back a strand of rain-matted hair.

“A pleasure, Marrow,” she murmurs to the beast.

She turns to the goblin as he finishes the instructions. No nod, no bow. Just a glimmer of understanding behind her cold, steady gaze.

“Deliver, get the signature, return. Don’t break it. Don’t lose the beast. Don’t ask questions.”

She sweeps a glance to the others before stepping toward the wagon, her boots sinking slightly in the wet muck..

“Shall we move before the road gets muddier, if that is even possible in a place like this." She gazes up at the clouds as the unrelenting rain continues to fall.

The most difficult part of the instructions for Zifni would be not peeking at whatever lay under the cover. Being told not to look only stokes his curiosity further. His eyes stare at the cover as if he could look hard enough to see straight through it.

"Understood," he says.

"Do you have a name?" he asks the goblin before he slips back inside out of the rain.

Thamul just stands where he stands watching the surroundings until they are ready to move.

When that happens he asks

"So how we gonna protect this thing, and who is gonna be leading the Worg?"

Tanis has remained outside in the rain as well, long face expressionless underneath the hood of his sodden cloak.

"Not exactly our strong suit, is it?  Handling beasties, let alone a worg.  What could go wrong?  Guessing Zifini's the best to do it.  Or if not, then me."

He pauses, then shrugs.  "Rest of us fan out.  Diamond pattern, maybe?  We all know it's coming.  Attack or diversion or both.  Need eyes and ears on all sides to scout.  Kain might be our best forward scout.  Another as rear guard.  One watching rooftops and skies above.  Others on the flanks?"

Tanis does not look or sound very optimistic about the prospects of success.  But then, he never does.

Having spoken his peace, he leaves it to his companions and instead tries to work out the best route from the goblin's "lodge" to House Crawlthing, seeking to split the difference between avoiding the most obvious routes, while steering clear of ambush-prone alleys and choke points.

Tanis' Survival to find a optimal route:  21 

As Tanis lays out his cautious plan beneath the rain, Selene stands beside the wagon, half-listening. Her gaze lingers on the object beneath the tarp in the cart, whatever it is, it demands too much attention. Large, and obviously something. Not just to curious passersby, but to the kind of opportunists in Tempest’s alleys.

She turns slightly toward Tanis, “You plan the route. I’ll mask the prize. Seems we’re all playing roles today.”

She lifts her index and middle fingers outstretched. Her eyes flutter half-shut, as if visualizing something in her minds eye.

And slowly, the illusion takes hold.

From a distance, the tarp-covered object now looks like a bundled stack of cracked and weather-worn furniture: a couple of broken chairs, maybe a splintered end table, the leg of a rotting wardrobe poking out, lashed together like junk being hauled from an estate sale or the ruins of some collapsed manor. The illusion is perfectly dull, with nothing remotely valuable in its shape or silhouette.

“There. One less reason to get gutted in an alley.”

She moves back toward the front of the cart, maintaining her illusion with practiced ease, adjusting her fingers occasionally twitching ever so slightly, every minute or so in order to anchor for the spell’s maintenance.

Warrick looks a bit nervous that the plan had him in the 'spread out' crew. "Perhaps I would be better suited to lead our faithful laborer as I am acquainted with the location of the Crawlings dwelling. "

(Does Warrick know anything about the Crawling house based on his past?)

Trying not to catch glances with the big beast, Warrick will take up a place by the not disguised artwork. He had gotten more accustomed to walking around so much but he was still not in the greatest shape and clearly was more comfortable sitting to travel. "Shall we embark?" His voice clearly shaking more then he had wished but less then he felt.

As the goblin slips back into the shop, Zifni calls after him for their name, to which he simply mutters 'Qwicknil.' Tanis then gets to work on finding the safest route to House Crawlthing as Selene disguises the cargo with an illusion. He knows that Tempest City is laid out like a spider-web, with the wealth of the area increasing the further into the centre you go, and the large roads that run down the cardinal points are almost impossible to traverse by wagon without having the vehicle stopped by a highway bandit or gang, no matter the cargo, so they're off the table.  Smaller side-lanes and alleys interlink between these roads major roads, and due to the size of the wagon, most alleys are eliminated too, which leaves Tanis with a planned route that manages to weave itself around high crime areas whilst sticking to smaller roads. 

Warrick remembers where House Crawlthing is; he used to live just down the street from it after all, but the name doesn't stir any immediate recognition in his mind. There are a lot of noble houses, with a lot of defining traits, and so it can be tricky to remember what ties to what house of the top of his head. However, he's had personal experience with the family, so is likely to have first hand memories that will help him recall things about the Crawlthings far easier than ordinary folk could. [You can make a History check with advantage]