"Yes my loyal subjects, returning to the Skytower Keep would be wonderful."
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Toorin will suggest we return the old man to the Almsman, explain his situation, and ask if he can keep an eye on the man, perhaps locate a relative of the man who can give him a home, now that we know the name and business of his father. If we each donate a gold piece, it ought to cover food for a long time.
After he hears Brallinera make her remarks about entering and returning from the sewers with an elf, Toorin glares, but satisfies himself with a long-suffering sigh and a quiet comment to whomever is close by, "Speaking of spending time with a dwarf, I'm going to find a bathhouse."
It's been a week since you've completed your mission involving the looney 'prince' of Augustana. You've all received a new summon to Absalom's lodge. As you enter;
Venture-Captain Alissa Moldreserva, a fiery red-headed woman who climbed from the depths of Galtan revolution to become one of the Society’s finest (and most well-connected) venture captains, stands in the great meeting hall of the Grand Lodge in Absalom. She stares down her hawkish nose and sighs.
"I ask for the best and they send me you. Lucky me. The Society’s best contact in Osirion, Grand Ambassador Dremdhet Salhar, informed me this morning that his lovely Chelish wife, the Lady Anilah Salhar, was kidnapped and sold into slavery. Normally, I wouldn’t care a bulette’s eyeball about who was or was not enslaved in Absalom, but Salhar is the Society’s best avenue for acquiring all of the necessary offial paperwork to make our frequent delves into the tombs of Osirion cheap and legal. This is a relationship we want to preserve and since the
Ambassador made it clear that our status is in jeopardy, I’ve been instructed to send our best agents to find her and return her safely to Salhar. I guess you’ll do. Salhar hasn’t sat idle since his wife was taken—his own agents are prowling the streets and dug up one possible lead. A one-eyed Andoren, a grit junky named Fredrik, is known for
selling or helping to sell nobility into foreign markets that desire
house slaves. Being enormously illegal, this trade makes Fredrik a fair bit of coin that Salhar’s agents assure me all go straight into the pockets of the Second Chance, a grit den dockside in Puddles. That’s all I have to get you started. Go quickly. The fate of our Osirian exploits is in your hands."
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A small blonde in magnificent, bright new scale mail armor, with a big and sharp axe attached to her back, an heavy mace to her left side and a steel shield to her right side, a throwing axe strapped to each thigh, enters. Her entrance is quite noisy, and metallic.
She is smiling. And her honest smile widens when she spots the archer.
Awwww, Sarenaen, we meet again!
She hugs him. Well, at least she tries. But being 4'2" when you try to hug a 6' man can lead to awkward situations.
So she changes her mind, after a few tries, and just shakes his hand, blushing slightly.
She looks at the redhead with the funny nose, and her face progressivly lose all mirth as the Venture Captain speaks, becoming rigid. A tempest of epic proportion is rising in her body, and she is shaking with anger. Her hands are resting on a chair's back, and she doesn't seem to notice her fingers are burying themselves in the wood.
Awwww...poor woman. Slavers? I've heard they have a tendancy to die before old age, and sometimes quite violently. Especially when I'm around. Don't know why. But everyone then puts the blame on me, just because my hands are bloody.
Before she breaks a new piece of furniture in the Pathfinder's lodge, she lets go of the chair, and paces the room impatiently.
We'll find her, and bring her back. I swear I won't drink a drop of alcolhol until the mission is complete and the woman is safe and free. Even a Chelaxian shouldn't become a slave.
she gives a cold and humorless smile
Even if there's a kind of ironic justice in that. Most Chelaxian use slaves, after all.
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Toorin greets the others, glad to know someone after wandering about Andoran for a day or two, picking up a new cloak clasp (and new clothes, since he burned what he had worn into the sewers). The sea voyage had been a wondrous experience, but Absalom was jarringly congested and noisy, with few vestiges of the natural world to comfort him.
He shakes hands with all (offers to shake hand with Brallenera, anyway).
After hearing the Venture Captain's summary, he glares at her, wondering what sort of person has no empathy for the fate of a slave, but says nothing. He exchanges glances with Ala'Ithys, knowing he will sympathize and is glad to learn of Brallenera's contempt for slavers. At least two kindred spirits, if a dwarf and an elf can have any kinship bonds. He wonders if he could afford to carry a few porcelin knick-knacks to hand to Brallenera when she has a fit of temper, so she can break something without having to buy it first.
Brallenera & Toorin's attitude preceding battle in the distant future?
In response to Ala'Ihys' question of the location of the Ambassador, the Venture Captain taps the table with her right hand's fingers...impatiently.
"You will be responsible for the Society’s losses in Osirion with your incessant questions. I’ve told you all I know—if you desire further employment beneath these hallowed pillars, you’ll think twice before asking me inane questions. Be gone!"
With a few directions asked, you easily make your way to the Puddles.
‘The Puddles,’ Absalom’s poorest district, suffering from a well-known reputation as a haven for lowlifes. Following an earthquake ten years ago, parts of the Puddles now rest below sea level, resulting in frequent and untimely flooding. Those who can afford not to live there—don’t.
The 'Second Chance' isn't too hard to find either. A single main entrance greets you.
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Earlier
The dwarfess shakes hands with the elf, but her face is, at best, neutral.
She wipes her hand on her thighs right after, absentmindly. She doesn't takes much effort to hide it, and seems eager to go and bury her axe into slaver's skulls.
Awww, lets go. We got someone to save. Again.
Now
Brallenara enters the place first, brooding, her muscles itching and rolling.
Dimly lit by cheap oil lamps sputtering on walls punctuated by painted-over windows, the Second Chance reeks of unwashed humanity and pungent ash. Threads of sickly sweet smoke drift like smog from tin hookahs. Ale kegs lurk in each corner, and cheap clay mugs hang from nails on the walls.
Being a dwarf was a boon, on top of Brallenera's reflex save, as a half-full tankard of ale flew over and hit the wall.
The scene as she entered first is chaos, a massive brawl is going on, with men exchanging haymakers and jabs at one another. The combatants, if one can call them even such, are all going at it unarmed.
It is clear however, a table to the west shows a scrawny one eyed fellow fitting Fredrik's description, being beset upon by three hyped-up ruffians.
A voice is heard over the brawling;
"As i said, no weapons! None of it, stick to your damn fists, or get the hell out of my bar!"
The voice came from the back, there stands a lone man in barkeep outfit. Gripping a scimitar, as the only one seemingly armed in the place, he stands next to a body, which had a knife in hand.
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Grins and rubs her hands in anticipation.
Awww, of course, Sareanaen! That's what I call a stress-relieving party. Just what I needed.This will become my favorite place, theses guys know how to have fun! Hey, here's our man!
Brallenra tries to walk to the west of the room, to catch Fredrik before he gets too much beaten by the three other thugs.
Unceremoniously, she punches one of the thugs in the gut to announce her arrival (or if someone, in the general chaos, punches her, she retaliates happily)
Awww, may I have your attention please? We need to talk to this guy. I'll let you beat him more after, if you want.
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Kravg moves inside the room slowly and islently, when he recognises the same group as before he grins to himself.
"Now there's something I didn't think would happen again so soon. Seems fate has brought us together again. I almost got worried I'd be placed with less capable men and women."
Kravg looks at the bar scene with intense eyes and looks to see the most dangerous people in there. Especially for the ones with weapons.
"I guess the barkeep is in trouble as he's armed. Let's get these people calmed down in one way and disarm or knockout the ones with weapons, at least the ones besetting Fredrik over there. I'll show you how."
Kravg moves in, not drawing any weapons, but removing his overcoat/cloak to allow himself more freedom.
Kravg moves over to Fredrik's table and taps the green man on his shoulder.
"Excuse me!" He says when he looks up and punches him right in the face.
They're not yet paying much attention to the new arrivals, until Brallenera smacks one in the side. Having taken a few punches already, he falls down and stays there...just vaguely mumbling something.
Kravg goes up and smacks down red.
Toorin, Joseph & Ala'Ihys
Blue
With Ala'Ihys' quick approach and a swift punch, the 3rd thug goes taking a nap.
Fredrik looks amazed for a moment.
"They...are down already?...Good, finally, phew..."
But as Fredrik is relieved, the barkeep comes up.
"Well, well, new arrivals again. You don't look like the sort to be 'using' either as well, like a few before you. What's the reason for the visit?"
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And by "serious issues" , Ala'Ihys means me.
Brallenera takes Fredrik by the throat and slams him against the wall
I have absolutely no sympathy, no respect for you. I hate slavers and all those who profit by selling people...like YOU. If you think you were in troubles when these three men now lying on the ground started beating you... You're wrong, because your real, big troubles start now. You have no idea how much I am wanting to beat you within an inch of your life.. then I would beat you some more. Fortunatly for you, we need some information, and we need them now. Listen to me. I'll tell you what I plan to do. I plan to find who you sold the girl to, I plan to kill every slaver in sight, to rescue her and to bring her back to her husband. Then, I will come back for you, and it will probably be a good idea for you to have left Absalom for ever. Because if I find you, I swear I will break every bone in your body. Slowly. Painfully. So do yourself a favor, speak. Or I'll start right now with your right hand.
She takes the man's right thumb in her own hands and starts pushing, showing she means business.
The barkeep, introducing himself as 'Elo', looks arily at Fredrik.
"That is him alright, what kind of..
Brallenera slams Fredrik, who is just barely coming to from his high, into the wall.
*Yikes...O.o*, he yelps.
Elo: ..ye know what, i don't wanna know. Two rowdy goons came asking questions like yours an hour or so before you came in. Suffice to say, one broke my golden rule, the other was dunked down by a few users and is likely lying around...somewhere, not dead i'm sure."
Fredrik's spilling beans,
"I erm...i is...oh. It was like this, you know, i was broke see and in need of a fix. Some bloke comes 'ere yeah, offers me some money so i can gets me a new fix. The bloke says to kidnap some posh lady to sell as a servant. I fobbed her off on Pardu Pildapush at his office in the Pits. Nough gold for a whole week o’ grit!" Having said that, he coughs up a reddish foam.
It seems he's on death’s door after his recent grit binge.
The 'Pits' are the reference to for Misery Row, known to most locally as the Slave Pits in Absalom.
Elo points with a thumb backwards.
"Don't bother with that one, the rats and crows can find more to their liking on him. The other one is somewhere in the far back."
If you do look there, you'll find a pretty bruised up tanned man slumped against the wall. Breathing, but KO.
Slavery in Absalom is clearly against the law
Ala'Ihys doesn't notice anything special about the dead man, other than he's wearing the attire of thugs more refined.
Elo points at a bucket of water he uses for cleaning the tables.
"It might be a bit fragrant of ale or vomit, but it's cold enough to wake him up."
"..hmm, huh, what happened. Oww..my head, my eyes are pretty hurtin'. Who..who are you people, you're not the typical junkies from around here."
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As Brallenera intimidates the man, Kravg looks on with grim Delight.
I'd love to do things like that myself, but I have to show restraint. We can't all lack discipline and composure in this sort of situations.
The Tengu moves slowly over and watches as the newcomer is brought back to consciousness. He stares the man in the face from his standing position near the spot the man fell down and kracks his knuckles loudly.
The man tries to keep his black eye opened, with difficulty as it hurts.
"What is it you're after, that you're coming to me?
Oi' Helok! You there?"
Elo barks back at him.
"Your knife-happy bud won't be answering you any time soon. Be an obedient fool and cooperate with whatever these newcomers have come for. After which, you'll be paying for damage, you hear?"
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Toorin lets the others take the lead in finding the bar and the informant. He pays close attention to the way they ask questions and tries to learn from their example. Once at the bar, he follows the others in, trying to take in the essential details and find a way to be helpful.
He makes his way over to where Frederick is fighting and looks for a way to help, but by the time he gets there, the fight is over. He takes up a position where he can keep an eye on the rest of the room.
"What do you want to do with Fredrik, Sarenaen? I want to tell you right now that I will make no prisoners with the slavers. Will you have a problem with that?'
"Make sure he tells us how to find this Pardu Pildapush's office. And make him describe the woman he kidnapped."
As Ala'Ithys revives the other fellow, Toorin looks down at the man and says, "Tell us what you know about the whereabouts of Lady Anilah Salhar, wife of Grand Ambassador Dremdhet Salhar. Your partner is dead and this bartender wants you to pay him for damages. If you don't tells us what we want to know, we'll pay for the damages ourselves and take you outside where we can take our losses out of your miserable slaver hide!"
He tries to make his last words grow more menacing.
Toorin obviously hasn't got the hang of intimidation yet; too wordy, he thinks. Perhaps someone else can follow up with something more convincing.
Fredrik is coughing more red between talking.
"I's told you ev'rythin' i know. cough I's took the posh lookin' lady to The Pits, i's be gettin' me cash and that's the end of my doin' with it all. The Pits are easy 'nough to find, just head down the street and follow [lots of directions summary]" cough.
The roughed up man grins mockingly at Toorin.
"Not much of a big guy with putting up air eh? Seems to me you could learn from the lass yonder." *hinting at Brallenera with his head*
"No need in questioning me, me and Helok were hired by your 'Ambassador' to question that one eyed weasel you've got there. Before we could get a proper answer, Helok got into a fight with the barkeep and i got jumped by 4 high-as-hell junkies."
"You're in tough luck, i's spent it on stuff already and what little is left, i's has stashed away somewhere but here."
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Awww, let not us waste time with this man-trash. He's already dead to me, and he knows that if I see him again I will be the last dwarf he sees. And I don't want any of his flesh-trading gold anyway. It would stink on my soul worse than the sewers we trode into last time.
She lets go of Fredrik, and walks to the barman with a smile, and puts 1 GP on the bar
Awww, nice place you have here. Is it always so much animated? This money is for a drink to the first one of theses fellas who get up. Keep the change, of course.
A sly grin comes on Elo's face.
"Heh, i like you miss dwarf. I can assure you there's more proper nights in this tavern. Granted, by that i mean instead of junkies, i hold a drink & brawl night every 5th night of the week. A makeshift ring right here in the middle. Be sure to stop by, i'd say you'd earn a pretty reputation."
He walks to the woken bruised man and yanks him by the collar.
"Now, unless you've got plenty of coin on you, you're cleaning this right now, understand?"
Following directions given by Fredrik, you make your way towards Misery Row.
Misery Row, the only street in Absalom on which slaves are legally bought or sold. Misery Row is a massive elevated platform running the length of the Coins’ eastern edge. The platform’s base forms a wall between the Coins and Merchant districts. The slavers sunk cages inside the walls, accessible only from the top of the Row and filled with languishing slaves.
As you arrive from the streets you ascend a big, heavily guarded stairs, the only means up, to Misery Row. Guards are positioned in pairs very hundred feet and keep a clear view and watch over any who comes and goes.
The 1st set of guards step a little closer to each other.
"HALT! Identify yourselves and state your business."
The guard, wiping away a drop of sweat from the sun, smirks.
"What's wrong with your vocabulary? 'Servant trade' would be the fancy term for the business upstairs. Anyway, go ahead, as long as you keep out of trouble, we're good."
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Toorin mentally corrects Ala'thys choice of words--as we are entering, ingress rather than egress--but as the guards did not seem to notice, it was not worth mentioning. Toorin suddenly laughs as he understood the punchline of a joke he heard in an upscale bar told by an entertaining gnome bard, something about a circus and three doors marked, Lioness, Tigress, and Egress, the last taking one outside the circus.
Having gotten on Misery row, only now do you get the full image of Absalom's slave trade. The scene ahead and around is that of many stalls, shops, slavers and slaves. With a little effort, you easily spot the place you are looking for, Pildapush Chattel: Absalom’s Finest
When you get to the door, however, the strong wooden door is locked and a "Closed" sign swings at it. The few visible windows are apparently boarded shut from within.