On the Swiftcurrent
The party arrives at gangplank leading up to the Swiftcurrent to see an odd scene playing out. Four people stand under a narrow overhang, outside what must be the captain's quarters on the main deck of the vessel: two men, one tiefling and one human, and two women, one human, one half-elf. The tiefling's hair flows halfway down his back in a long braided topkont. He is dressed in what would be a rather flashy outfit of flowing silk robes and fine-cut leather, were it not all soaking wet and carries. In his left hand he holds an ornately patterned silk parasol that is proving a decidedly poor protection against this driving rain. The two women huddle behind the tiefling looking cold and miserable, in spite of the long fur overcoats they are wearing, perhaps due in part to the fact that their coats are soaking wet, but likely also due to the fact that the garments they wear under their coats are skimpy and revealing to the point that they hardly deserve to be called clothes.
The tiefling gestures emphatically with a right hand that is missing both middle and ring finger, as he says to the male human, "I'm telling you Officer Graster, Shayla and Ranelle here are my friends. They've just come to pay me a social call, after hearing that my vessel was in port. We go back a long way, old schoolmates we are. Isn't that right, Ranelle dear?" the tiefling asks the half-elf woman, who nods gloomily, her eyes cast downward and away from the officious looking man opposite the tiefling, "that's why they were so excited to come and see me, even in this dismal weather."
The human, a middle-aged man with a large bushy mustache, wearing the livery of the Daunton City Watch emblazoned with a badge reading 'Customs Duty Officer,' eyes the tiefling skeptically, arms crossed. "You're not fooling me Berekis," he says, "You're already being detained under suspicion of smuggling illegal narcotics, and now I catch you cavorting with these strumpets! Tell you what I should do, I should haul the lot of you in and let the magistrate sort it out, once they've been over this ship with a fine-tooth comb, that's what I should..."
The man breaks off his speech, having apparently sighted your party at the base of the gangplank. "Hold! Who goes there? Who are you lot, and why is that fella unconscious?"
Already on edge from his conversation with Berekis, the guard angrily awaits your reply. The smooth-talking tiefling, surprised by this turn of events, seems momentarily at a loss for words...