Nicodemus, Vemuz, & Malachi,
"We-e-ell, now, I s'pose t'wouldn't hurt no-one if yer just lookin'," the suspicious guard relents, viewing the coins and licking his lips. "Borrim'll let ya in, I'll keep an eye on th' streets - wouldn't like t' lose me job over somethin' like this, ya know, cully."
The door is iron-bound, with a small barred window at the top; it is obviously very strong, with a lock that on any other door would seem comically huge.
Borrim, bowing and eager to please, prises open the door, while Jack makes a show of watching the street vigilantly.
The door opens onto a kind of courtyard or amphitheater, with a large podium and a small stage in the center. The stage is strewn with chains and manacles and it is easy to guess its purpose.
Behind the amphitheater are what can only be described as pens - rooms about the size of an inn's common room, albeit with one wall, the one facing the amphitheater, barred like a jail cell, with heavily locked doors.
The floors of the pens are covered with bodies - sleeping Orcs, with one thin blanket each (for the luckier ones), the young and strong in one cage, the women and children in another. There is no cage for the old and infirm, as they rarely survive the journey from the Dark Continent to here.
A few wake up at your approach; they stare dully at you, most of them gone beyond fear and anger to acceptance.
In a special pen to the left of the amphitheater are the day-laborers - property of the Auction House that are not sold, but rented per day for various tasks. You recognize the dock-workers among these; in the day-laborer's pen, no distinction is made between men, women, or children.
A small corridor leads further past the slave pens towards the back of the building - possibly a back door of some sort.
"Jus' look at them, yer Honor," Borrim says to Nicodemus, bowing deeply. "Cream o' the crop - prime fieldhands. Strong backs, might need a little breaking in for th' odd stubborn bastard, but worth their weight in gold, sir." He pauses, then adds hastily, "O' course, they'll go for considerably cheaper than thet, yer Honor."
Nicodemus,
You only half hear the guard's prattling, as a series of three twinges in your mind warn you that the invisibility spell you cast on Vemuz and Malachi has but 30 seconds left before it fades away. When it does, you doubt that even the charmed guard will completely accept any excuse you can make up, should he catch sight of Malachi or Vemuz. After all, a rich merchant bribing his way into the Auction House at this ungodly hour is suspicious enough, but to be seen as also bringing a pair of heavily armed apparent thugs is something that Davy Jones himself would have difficulties explaining away.
Malachi & Vemuz,
As you brush past Jack at the door, he looks around at Nicodemus watchfully once more, weighing the coins in one hand and toying with his cudgel with the other. He is obviously not entirely convinced by Nicodemus's story, though all too happy to take the money.
(OOC: Move Silently checks, please.)
Malthas,
Mr. Lang glances at you sharply when you say this.
"Perhaps, Mr. Swifthand, perhaps. However, I'm afraid we lack the funds to...ah...gain such men for our crew, and furthermore, the Captain has made it clear that he will not prop up this 'detestable traffic' by...buying a crew. He is a rather liberal-minded individual, as you may have noticed."
