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Against the Slavers A1: Slave Pits of the Undercity

Halivar

First Post
OOC Thread
Rogue's Gallery

For several years, organized bands of pirates and slavers have made a living by raiding the coastal towns on the Sea of Gearnat. Ranging from the Onnwal to the Wild Coast, they have descended quickly and ruthlessly on the small towns and villages, and carried off innocent citizens into the night. Although these marauders were not approved of by the lords, lack of funds prevented all but an occasional naval battle with the villians and the slow fortification of towns. Bribery was often a more effective method of protecting one's lands from the incursions of these avaricious sea-wolves.

Recently, however, the slavers' attack have become mroe frequest and vicious. Believing their prey to be weak and helpless, the raiders have burnt entire villages and pulled down walls of towns. Women, children and whole families have disappeared; and although the bribes are accepted, the agreements are ignored. Vast tracts of coastline have been reduced to ashes, left barren except for packs of wild dogs.

The lords have finally become determined to take action, forgetting their petty squabbles to unite against the marauders of the yellow sails. Through information gained from escaped slaves, and those fortunate enough to have been found by family or friends, the lords have traced the slavers to a port from which they lauch their swift attacks on the coast: the despoiled city of Highport in wasted Pomarj. Some who have lost kin and fortune to the reavers have advised taking a fleet and crushing the outpost, but cooler heads have prevailed. They have pointed out such a base is undoubtedly well-defended and that the slavers, if alarmed, might arrange that loved ones and kin are never seen again. Instead, they have chosen a plan of stealth. Adventurers (that's you) have been gathered together and will be sent to infiltrate the base and destroy the leaders of this evil band. Caution is recommended, for the true strength and extent of this slave ring is not known, but they seem to be stronger and better organized than encounters with their small raiding parties would indicate.

Highport was once a human city, but the land and town have been overrun by humanoids: orcs, goblins, kobolds, ogres and gnolls. Looted, burned and ill-kept, the city has become a base for human outcasts wishing to deal with these unsavory creatures.

You've spent the last two months aboard Capt. Jack Crosstree's captured pirate ship, the illustriously named Whore o' the Sea. Armed with an old map of the port from better days (see below), you now enter the harbor of Highport. It will take an hour to negotiate the small harbor and moor to the docks. Meanwhile, you can see that the city of Highport is a wreck. Even from outside the harbor, you can hear the sounds of daytime revelry in port. Your first task is to get into the port, and find the clues that will lead you to the slavers.

You notice that you have already been spotted. Your approach was noted by lookouts you observed on your way into the harbor.

OOC: On the trip, you learned everything about each other that you posted in your backgrounds. If you wish to skip to the docks, let me know. Otherwise I'll take my time on it.
 

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Bob Aberton

First Post
The WHORE O' THE SEA, ex-pirate vessel, speeds toward the entrance of the harbor close-hauled with all sail set and her lee scuppers down to the water's edge.

On her quarterdeck there stands a small, wiry man in a captain's garb and ridiculously plumed cocked hat. He stands rigidly, feeling the heave of the deck beneath his feet, and gazes ahead to the town of Highport. Almost unconsciously, he fingers the long wicked scar that extends down the left side of his face.

"Highport," he mutters to himself. "The city I hoped I'd never see again." He spits over the rail. "I must be as mad as the rest of the circus they've hired for this piece of foolishness."

Then he stands to attention and returns to captaining his vessel.

"Easy on the helm there, Black. Mr. Jenks, clew up the main, mizzen and foreto'gallants and station leadsmen in the forechains. Hands stand by th' ground-tackle..."

The topgallants, the ship's uppermost sails, are folded up loosely by their clewlines and the crewmen scramble aloft to furl them. Two more seamen ready sounding leads and stand by in the forechains.

The WHORE O' THE SEAS slows down noticeably and cautiously edges her way into Highport Harbor, as though she knows what will await her there.
 

Running a hand through his brown hair and stepped up to get a good look, Feinar found himself tugging at his gloves. His grey colored cloak was wrapped comfortably around him, with his large sword and bow across his back. A closed quiver rested within reach next to the sword, and hidden under the cloak near his heart, was the symbol of Ehlonna.
Feeling the ship slowing down, he glanced back to the Captain a moment just to watch him. And interesting man, for sure. The Elf then turned quietly back to the slowly approaching docks. He truly had no idea what to expect.
 

Hammerhead

Explorer
Marcon sat in the stiff-backed chair in his spartan quarters, finishing disguising his shield. Despite his distaste for subterfuge, he realized the necessity of stealth in this endeavor. The symbol of Heironeous, once proudly emblazoned on his possessions, was now hidden, and only a simple holy symbol concealed beneath his armor advertised his faith.

I hate this deception; it shouldn't be a tool for the faithful of Heironeous. Our enemies use it all too frequently, even the infiltrate the ranks of my Church! These slavers must be stopped, yet I feel that the original plan was far superior to this cowardly skulking. Marcon's internal monologue was interrupted as he noticed the slowing speed of the ship. Strapping on his sword, he made his way to the deck, approaching the Captain.

Are we going into harbor now? he asks stonily, surveying the city with cold, gray eyes. This ship is an indecent one, and her captain is an indecent man. Perhaps I judge the man too harshly. While a dishonorable rogue, he at least seeks to end this spread of evil, an intention that speaks much of him.
 

Bob Aberton

First Post
Captain Crosstree glances over at Marcon, hearing the judgement in his cold greeting.

"Well, cully," he says, matching the priest's stoniness with paternal condescension, "I'm sure Your Holiness would have noticed had we not been heading in to Highport. I know this kind of thing can be difficult for landsmen, but if you take the time t' observe, the open sea's back that way." He gestures elaborately over the stern, towards the ocean he wishes he was sailing right now.

Typical self-righteous bastard. Thinks he's better than me, eh? We'll see. Highport eats his kind alive, chews 'em up and spits 'em out. An' who's Church was it that was having dealings with the Slavers, again? Still, a comrade in arms is a comrade in arms; one can't be too picky about one's friends when tryin' to topple someone like th' Slavers of Highport. They'll wish they'd never heard the name o' captain Crosstree when this is all over...
 

rangerjohn

Explorer
Thellys makes his way to the deck with Socrates. He makes his way to the rail and looks at the approaching dock. ~Soon, soon, I will have my revenge, and lovely Ellyssa back in my arms.~

He looks around around at his companions they seem a competent bunch. Not as burly as some, but there are other ways, if bulk is needed he can always call some of his friends.
 

Tonguez

A suffusion of yellow
Down below decks Orbril sits on his bunk, cuddled up to Mr Pymms (his badger companion) and with Mr Pogwart Nimcock Poole the Third (aka Poggy) curled up on the floor beneath him.
He looks (and feels) miserable, though at least he stopped being sick two days before and is now simply a bit queasy when forced to walk on deck.

He knows that he will eventually get use to the constant rocking of the ship but nonetheless is very glad that they will soon be on land and that he will be able to restore his clan and his own pride.

'Yes Gran' he thinks to himself 'I'm doing this for you'

Hauling himself to his feet, he grabs his gear, checks that his flasks, darts and tools are ready then and calls "Mr Pymm, Poggy come"
and as the badger and dog both get up and amble up beside him he slowly- steadily makes his way up the ladder to the deck...
 

Halivar

First Post
OOC: Our monk friend, I believe, is not going to be here until Saturday. Until we reach important stuff, we'll assume he's belowdecks gathering his gear.

The Whore o' the Sea is slowly approaching the docks. As you get closer, you can see that the docks are not quite as active as one might expect of a pirate town. Only a few other lightly armed schooners are presently in port, and one of those looks like it won't make it back out to sea without an overhaul. In fact, the entire port, from what you can see, suffers from the same dilapidation.

Capt. Jack, you can see a small group of what appear to be short goblinoids gathering for the approach of the Whore. It isn't hard to spot them; the docks are deserted, after all. You do not see any arms on them at present. There are two taller figures with them, but you can't make out much more without getting closer.
 
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ferretguy

First Post
Below decks, Tarasin gathers his supplies remembering the last time saw his mentor fighting off the slavers to save their victims. Feeling the anger build up inside of him he remembers the breathing excercises he was taught for control, lest his emotions allow him to make mistakes. Finishing up, and feeling the ship slow as it comes into the port, Tarasin heads back up to the deck of the ship to see first hand the slavers den.

OOC: well back again for the good fight!
 

Hammerhead

Explorer
Your hostility isn't necessary, Captain. Being unpracticed in stealth and deception, the tools of our mission, I had not considered our route, Marcon says cooly. It may have been possible to attempt to find a place to get off nearby, or to sneak in at night. Also, titles aren't necessary, particularily in such patronizing tones.

Upon seeing the goblins, Marcon's hand flashes to his sword, preparing to draw. Then, remembering his mission, he slowly releases it. Idiot!, he mentally chastises himself. Highport is no doubt awash in such scum. You must act prudently, not like some brash paladin, to ferret out this evil and destroy it like the cancer it is.Steeling himself, Marcon shakes his head. That was stupid. Captain, do you know why this area is so deserted? I would have expected dozens of slave ships coming into port, carrying hundreds of poor unfortunates to break their backs in heartless toil. No matter. I'll be downstairs, equipping my armor.

Marcon then turns without further comment, heading belowdeck to strap on his plate.
 
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