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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Bob Aberton" data-source="post: 1331855" data-attributes="member: 1518">Jonah,Lupe has in his hands the copy of the map you translated for him from the Drow dialect of the elven tongue.  He walks in the door, peers cautiously at the corridor behind him, and then closes the door behind him.He places the map on your desk, and then places next to it a very old sheath knife, its blade worn down by many years of sharpening.  On the whalebone hilt of the knife, the words BLACK MAST are scrimshawed, and on the other side of the hilt you can just barely make out the words "J. Boyd, Quartermaster."  The writing is badly blurred."You know of the BLACK MAST, hey?" Lupe says, without so much as an exchange of pleasantries.  "She was ship of Kazan the Red, sank fifty years back.  This map was from the pockets of the man who owned this knife - Quartermaster of the BLACK MAST, fifty years ago.  Have I told you the story?  My grandfather was seaman before the mast like me, his ship picked up this man, and my grandfather used the knife to kill his shipmate over the dead man's coat.  Lem Harvey, when he was young, he ship with an old sailor - old sailor who knew a man on the BLACK MAST.  Said that this Kazan the Red had great treasure heaped up somewhere, no one knew where.  This map - this map is no chart for navigating...and these words - 'Here...was' and then a position and bearing and then 'underneath a...'  You know all about maps, I hear - what you make of this map, hey?"Nicodemus,"You can tell anyone who you think would be interested - Mr. Legba, f'r instance.  These folk I know, maybe you've heard of them, call themselves 'The Society for the Abolition of Orcish Slavery,' or just the Abolitionists for short.  They've got a couple or two of the wealthy and powerful upper crust in Hull listenin' to 'em, but precious few elsewhere.  Not politically popular, seein' as how Standishtown tobacco and St. Yves sugar is a lucrative business and the planters' money speaks louder than the Abolitionists' talk o' morality.  They want to get rid of slavery in the end, but for now, they'll just settle for helping runaways.  They want to set up what they call an 'Underground Road' for runaway Orcs.  Problem is, they're not, gen'rally speaking, a practical set of people. They need people like you, an' whoever else was in on th' Standishtown caper, for that sort o' thing.  You'd know how best t' do somethin' like that, seeing as you've already done it on a smaller scale," Weaver says, and then pauses for breath.  She sips her drink and suddenly looks worried, probably realizing how much she's said.  "By th' way, Mr. Arfaliunium, I guess I don't need to impress on you the need for keeping this secret, do I?  I'd admire if you'd keep some quiet between decks about this."Malthas,The Orcs you rousted up from belowdecks stand in a semicircle around the arms chest, peering at the stand of cutlasses uncertainly.  You recall that it was permissible in Standishtown to hang a slave for owning a weapon like a cutlass or pistol.  You also notice a number of the cutlasses are flecked with rust, having not been cleaning since before the GRACE made port.</blockquote>

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