The group take bits and pieces of loot; the carved dice, the scimitar, sheepskin cloaks and silken shirts. Fawkes offers to free Esther, releasing her from the collar that binds her. The slave maiden is extremely grateful for being rescued from her dire straits. It would have been far easier to just ignore her plight, sneak by upon whatever plot you have. But you risked the potential of exposure to try and set her free. The ministry of the clerics enough to calm her fears that you have any nefarious intentions for her yourself. Galadria offers to take her under her wing. The slave collar is cast away, replaced by a scarf, sheepskin cloak, blouson, ill fitting boots taken from one of the gang. Even so, better dressed now than at any other time in the city. Of her experience of slavery and things relevant to your mission, she only knows that the city has a large dungeon under the central parks barracks. It receives shipments of slaves, keeping them in chained gangs until sold on as newly collared labourers and domestic servants. There are however some more private enterprises that bypass the city market, taking lines of shackled prisoners for special reasons, people of all races; especially kidnapped for ransom, some for gladiatorial arenas in far flung places, others chosen for sacrifice or breeding purposes. She has seen wealthier merchants come and go from the a gatehouse that fronts an old place of worship. "Many well armed guards serve the gates by day. Some slaves who had tried to escape were slain and subsequently raised anew as undead to be used as thralls to patrol the walls and grounds at night." Possibly she speaks of the ruined Temple you seek.
The decision now then, what to do with her.
Given a choice to accompany the group or be left to her own devices, she chooses to stay, preferring if it was offered, to go to the anchored ship. But as that choice remains off the table for now, she follows along on your vague mission 'to go somewhere and do something'."What say you, Esther?"
Galadria wisdom check vs 16 [1d20]=7Esther reactions [1d100]=97
Escaping into Highport
Mortar jerks the reins on the pony, fleeing down the road, wagon wheels clattering loudly, not stopping for hell or high water. In his wake, liberally dropped coins sown as seeds upon the pavement have gathered an immediate harvest of half-starved poor and needy who scramble to gather them, blocking any pursuit of the Derelict Watchtower guards or priest of Gruumsh.
Dodging any militia patrols that might hinder his flight, the mage turns his wagon towards the inner districts. In the prison cage, the two shackled priests of Boash hold on tightly as the wagon tips and sways alarmingly as it speeds along. Eventually the distant horns alerting patrols to the escape recede to dim sounds, but dangers still exist all around. An apparently unmanned wagon hurtling along is quite a prize and it is no surprise then when a pack of urban Kobolds run across the road in front of the pony intent upon commandeering it. They wave raise hands to try and halt the pony, barking and yapping in Koboldish to try and grab at its harness, one even trying to jump up into the driver's seat while several others clamber upon the back of the cage frame to leer and taunt the two captives. A dozen of the canine humanoids try to slow the wagon down, clinging on or running alongside.
"What do we have here? ... Two lovelies to play with ... We can put them to work in the sewers ... No, we can claim the bounty for nabbing them .... flog them to the highest bidder in the market ..." they argue over what advantage they can make.
They poke hands at Jacopo & Rogger, poke fun at them, mocking any distress. Mortar yet unseen has a decision to make.
Highport: group & wagon synchronise?: vs 1-2 [1d6]=6 No. So encounter is random city group ...
Kobolds: [2d6]=12
Actions Mortar, you can try to run them over, outrun them, fend them off, some parlay or anything else.
Sneaking into Highport.
Fearful of Scarface fetching reinforcements or the city militia, the group quickly end any intensive search of the Hobgoblins hovel and gather to continue their hurried sneak through the city's alleyways towards the alleged Slave-Lord ruins.
Repeating the pattern of before, rogue skilled Goran advances using his Halfling stealth to scout the way ahead. It is not about remaining unseen but being unnoticed, irrelevant, incognito, not drawing any attention to himself beyond appearing as a waif or urchin wandering the overcast city streets in the early hours.
Highport: random encounter vs 1 [1d6]=3 [1d6]=4 [1d6]=2
So far so good. The barrow boys noted at the end of the cobblestone alley ignore the group trudging by, burying heads under Hessian sacks to ward off the rain and catch last minute sleep-ins. The Rat-catchers busy themselves with rooting out a rat swarm, their giant pets more than capable of grabbing the largest of giant rats from breached nests, mauling them with savage bites. What the weasels don't kill, the Catchers club mercilessly.
The patrols heading for changeover shifts in the barracks also pay you little heed. In the distance to the west, a few horns repeat for a moment. A few guards look that way then decide that the alarm must be crying out for someone else; it is far too late into their shift and too far away to be of trouble for them it seems. The group can cross to the park opposite the alley to weave between the ancient trunks that somehow survived the city's razing and being fuelled or chopped for timber. Central to the park is the Watchtower Barracks and adjacent to it, a wide platform that has dual purposes, chiefly being used for the marketing of slaves and a gallows bearing a set of nooses for public lynchings. One unfortunate still dangles lifeless on the end of a short rope.
Goran signals Fawkes to take the next narrow alley that leads south from the park. The street is paved, better maintained and partially lit by occasional oil lanterns that hang on the tenement walls. The only patrons in the street however are wild dogs that scoot away quickly enough once a couple of stones get thrown to warn them. You scoot too, as from a high balcony a chambermaid empties her morning ablutions to splash into the street behind you. It seems a regular thing, warning you that residents slowly rouse, the emptying of piss-pots pitter-pattering in heavier downpours than the rain. You exit this long street to another wider tree-lined boulevard that runs across the city, west to east.
As you wait to check the coast is clear, you see a group of mangy Kobold labourers emerge from their ditch dens to run excitedly down the street towards a rampaging wagon that is frantically racing driverless along the road. The Kobolds begin to harass the wagon's pony, trying to slow it down as it rushes along. On the wagon itself, you can perceive a black iron cage that must contain slaves who are being jeered and tormented at by the Kobold street gang.
It could just be the distraction you need to cross over the road and nip between the crumbling ruins that cover the opposite quarter around the Temple Ruin area or it could be another timely intervention to help bless some unfortunates.
Goran and Fawkes do cross over to hide in the rubble strewn ground. Olleg and Brick wait to proceed next. Vennar helps lead Edel who wargs in and out of his Familiar Pallas as the owl flies overhead to provide the bird's-eye view. Galadria, Esther, Durrant bringing up the rear.
Using the superior night vision of Pallas, can see two men in wrist shackles inside the cage. One bashes the fingers and claws of the Kobolds grasping the cage bars while the other is at the front but unable to grasp the pony reins that jerk up and down in the air, tantalisingly out of reach.
Actions everybody.
