The next morning, you pass through a teleportation circle with a disconcerting lurch and arrive before a man in his early 30s: Whispershade.
"Greetings, Pathfinders. You are most welcome here in Katapesh. My name is Whispershade; Is there anything you would like to do before I show you to the Garden of Chains?
Whispershade shakes his head, ”The cruel trade continues unabashed; the Garden of Chains is as busy as ever.”
He looks over the group, ”We can talk briefly now but when we leave this room you will be merchants looking over cloths and dyes. This room is concealed at the heart of a drapers co-operative.”
"I would suggest that we start by asking a couple of questions in the city on the slave market and the relevant traders and buyers. Then we try to find angles to either talk to significant individuals or try to infiltrate the slave market. What do you think?" he asks expectantly.
Whispershade furrows his brow, ”The city is thick with slavers: takers, sellers, buyers, enforcers... Our only concrete clue is that her last few messages concerned the Garden of Chains. I suggest you start there.”
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Very good. Excellent. Let us proceed to the Gardens and try to establish our connections.
Roderick nods as he tries to relight his pipe and take a puff or two.
Once he is successful, he smiles.
Ahhhhh. Splendid. Much better.
Teleportation always needs to be followed by something to re-connect one to the ground.
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so, the actual adventure starts when the PCs visit the Garden of Chains, everything else is me trying to make a module fit with PFS...
Kyra nods at the parting words, then follows suit as half the team heads out the door.
"May the dawnflower smile upon our task."
The party approaches the Garden of Chains in the late morning. Business is brisk and you are able to see the slave auctions in full swing.
The structure is on two layers, with a central pit containing the customers, counting house and management while raised sections around the sides house slaves and viewing areas.
The guards belts carry heavy clubs, scimitars and bunches of heavy keys.
Customers regularly view slaves here and you can address the slaves individually or in cell groups. Other customers, other slaves and the guards all move freely around.
Staircases lead to and from the pens. Slaves who fail to sell are beaten and whipped by the guards and threatened with worse of they don't perform better for the next set of customers.
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Listening in you can learn that the heavy-set gnoll who runs the Garden is grasping and greedy, always looking to wheedle a few extra coin out of customers. He is called Aghurr, although some customers call him Fat Aghurr quite casually.
His office beneath the viewing pens is always open to customers.
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In this cramped room, two guards keep the crowd in line while book-keepers scrawl detailed records. Those with purchase slips are patted down before entering. They carry their slips in one hand and purses in the other.
Money is kept is solid-looking lockboxes and records stored on lines of shelves.
At one point a customer argues with an accountant about his purchase. A guard quickly takes her to speak with the Overseer.
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Slavers parade their wares on this raised platform, observed by bidders below. Two gnolls and two humans guard this parade area and the slavers are quick to use violence to compel slaves to show off their skills. The slaves are brought here with painful-looking spiked collars attached to long wooden poles.
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Twenty feet below street level, scores of eager bidders cram the area and bid loudly on slaves. The floor contains an elaborate mosaic but its faded tiles are chipped, cracked and torn free. Four stone columns reach up to the empty sky.
Dozens of buyers jostle together here.
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The barker, Saiyd, stand on a rickety wooden platform, frantically calling prices and accepting bids.
When an offer is taken he screams 'closed!' and hands the buyer a stamped purchase slip. A muscular gnoll guards the barker.
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The auction floor is divided at the back by a basin and stone trough. Clearly designed to carry water, the dry trough leads out through an archway below the viewing pens and even sunken a little below the Garden Floor.
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Andor approaches the little halfling and speaks in halfling.
”Hello, I would like to know more about you! May I ask who you are and what your story is? I assume that none of the guards speak your tongue, right?“
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Andor informs the group that Aghurr is a sadist who enjoys his power over others. And that Only greed can overcome his cruelty.
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Andor points out to the group that the guard keeps the crowd away from Saiyd but he is clearly uncomfortable with his 'bodyguard'.
Thinking it unwise to split up, at least for the moment, Zadim remains with the others as they casually take in the entire market, keeping his eyes and ears open as he goes.
He nods in affirmation when Andor shares his observations. Having now, at least summarily, viewed the entirety of the accessible market and having not spied their quarry or noted any imminent threats, the man concedes that the halfling that Andor sought to engage may be the best place to start.
"After all," Zadim notes. "if Othine was 'sold into slavery', then we know that the slave pens are the one place where we can be certain she has been."
"Perhaps, the halfling can give us some intelligence as to where these latest groups of slaves hailed from and to where they may be going." the slayer muses aloud. "That, in turn, will help us decide which slaver may be best in the market for our type of 'mercenary service'."
The halfling's eyes light up and it whispers hurriedly back to Andor in the halfling tongue.
"I'm firm you know, they won't break me! Slavery's another kind of death as far as I'm concerned. Name's Mansor Peredrin."
A guard wanders over at the halfling's excited noise and rattles the cage, "Hey! Slip! Talk nice or I'll smash you up again!"
He nods respectfully to Andor, "If he gives you any lip let me know: this one's feisty. Maybe a brawler for the fighting pits?"]
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Roderick keeps a disinterested look for the halfling.
Feisty is not exactly what I would want in a...personal servant.
He puffs on his pipe and continues, directing his comment to the guard.
I would more interested in something less homely and more helpful around the estate.
No, definitely not 'feisty'. That is just too much work for the price.
Well, I guess if the price is reasonable, we could make due with the halfling.
Unless, perhaps you have a human woman of good constitution and fair complexion.
Do you have any merchandise of this sort available?
The guard cocks his head, "This way, good sir, this way."
He leads Roderick toward a pale woman with haunted eyes at the other end of the pens. "Very obedient this one. Quiet as well, sir."
Kyra had hidden her holy symbol to avoid suspicion.
The sight of all the oppression was an insult to life, but the sad reality was this was every day life in these parts.
Mansor leans in, ”No, I’ve not seen your lady. I’ll tell you what though, these bastards have got some place where they take people. Sometimes they just torture them, but I’ve seen two come back blank... just nothing behind the eyes.”
He looks about and licks his lips, ”I don’t know what the whole deal with but one of those guards was right pissed off with me and he threatened that I’d end up ‘below’ if I kept at it. Then he looked all tense like and he stopped talking and beat me wild. Did this!” he points to a broken tooth. ”That’s got to be a clue, right?”
The guard leans in to Roderick and whispers,
Another guard comes near and he straightens up, ”You want anything, you just ask, sir.”
Zadim reaches into his belt and retrieves his coin purse, laden with more than twenty coins. Fidgeting with it in an obvious manner, the man approaches the guard.
"I overheard your offer to this man and am strongly considering an opportunity of my own to... examine... the merchandise." Zadim whispers. "But, I have... concerns... that must first be placated before I am willing to... expose my assets."
Zadim approaches the guard, leaning in as a sign of both interest and seriousness. "What assurance do I have that, once exposed, this current appearance of docility will remain true? I have heard more than one tale of businessmen in similar situations where, having once sought a few moments among women, find themselves, instead, forever counted among eunuchs."
The brute replies, "Oh, I assure you, goodly sir, all the fight's been taken out of her." A self-satisfied smile crawls onto his lips, "Yes, indeed it has. Shall we say, around midnight?"
The brute replies, "Oh, I assure you, goodly sir, all the fight's been taken out of her." A self-satisfied smile crawls onto his lips, "Yes, indeed it has. Shall we say, around midnight?"
Zadim eyes the woman's blank-stare warily, then asks the guard, "How can you be so certain? The serpent often appears most lifeless shortly before the strike."
Yes, my good man. Excellent question. Do you have only the one or several of similar temperament?
"Yes. Yes" Zadmi nods in affirmation,"If one is good, than more must be better. Yet, even the most broken of slaves seem to find defiant courage when among others."
The slayer turns to the guard, "My friend and I would gladly compensate for three, perhaps more. But we would need some evidence of assurance of their compliant nature, before we would partake of such a risk."
The guard gives another hasty look around, "I might be able to find two more: just human women, or do you prefer a little variety? There are some men, and some slips too."
His eyes widen as a scarred gnoll steps up the stairs toward the pens, "Here then, midnight." he hisses before stepping away and unlocking a pen.
The slaver kicks and prods a young halfling man out of the cell and toward the gnoll, "Here he is." He leads the slave away under the gnoll's watchful eye.
As he is hurrying to do his superior's bidding, the man does not seem to here Roderick's reply.
Mansor however, responds to Andor's words, "I don't know. From my perspective, there's not much to see." He waves an arm and you realise that from the cell all he can see clearly is the auction block on the other side. Most of the the downstairs sections are obscured by the parapet on the edge of the viewing gallery beside the pens.
He continues, "Most of us are brought in normally in the morning from traders, caravans, slave-taking gnoll tribes... only a few arrive or leave in the black of night. And I cannot see in the dark as these gnolls can."
Awwww, a shame we can't kill all these slavers..
Kyra watches everyone's faces, and notices the dwarfess shifts her foot quite often, subconsciously clenching a fist.
She heads up to er and lays a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"We may yet encounter worse. A chance for you to vent anything....i presume."
She then looks at the cages.
"Because this is a slow death sentence."
Assessing the situation, Andor suspects the trough was originally designed to carry water deeper underground. It is now dry.
"If the dark deeds are done under cover of night, then perhaps we'd best attempt to explore the underground during the day" suggests Zadim. "Do you think we able to all get below undetected?"
Hearing Nanny's comment on sewer guards;
"Oversized vermin, at a minimum.", Kyra adds half absent minded.
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Yes, undoubtedly. If they are using the underground to move slaves, then it may be advantageous to explore after hours. We can perform a bit more reconnaissance here before nightfall. Roderick adds and finishes with a puff from his pipe.
What else have we not yet seen? Let us perhaps check that next and then depart to return after nightfall?