Sable Nights

[ptrcz09]

Jugh Backbreaker stood silhouetted against the moon facing out towards Absolom harbor. A prize fighter on the cusp of the prime of his life, the young half orc had an air of menacing confidence about him that went beyond his leisurely posture and the costly apparel he wore. He held a pipe in one enormous hand and was using it to gesture wildly to two other figures while engaged in an exaggerated account of his last match. He is talking loudly enough that the Sable Warden, lurking in the shadows, can hear his boasts clearly.

Presently, the conversation takes a darker tone as the large youth describes what he'd done after the fight to a young girl who's father hadn't paid his tribute to Mr. Bone. Rather than be repulsed by the graphic depiction, the two other figures seem to become riled up. One, a Kobold naked to the waist and wearing some kind of baggy pant probably from the Padishah empire jumps onto a nearby crate emitting some screechy sound that can only be a laugh. The other, who could be a man or an elf and is dressed in animal skins after a northern style, stands and begins to playfully shadow box the larger orc with a gracelessness that only comes from strong drink. In doing so, he strays from the large sword he had been sharpening earlier, which is now 10 feet away.

The three are standing 70 feet from their stalker, and are guarding a pier for one of the least prominent of the local crime families. Likely, the ship at the end of the pier holds illegal slaves or even corpses--Mr. Bone specializes in that sort of thing--and the pier itself is littered with haphazardly placed crates and boxes of varying sizes.

[The BBEG]

The Sable Warden stalks his prey. He would have been content to simply bypass them but now, he will make sure they pay. But first, he needs more information about the ship. While he has some information, things change and he wants to see for himself. There aren't supposed to be other guards, but one can never tell.

As silently as he can, the Warden sneaks down the pier, doing is best to stay out of light, in the shadows, and making no sound. He finds that he is perfectly at home in Absolom. If he finds it possible, he will grab the half-orc's sword and silently let it slip into the water. However, if the group is paying to much attention he will try to find a way to slip around them, either by walking, or using his grapple hook if he must.

Stealth: (1d20+7)[12]

Edit: Ughh, not a great start lol.
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Earlier that day, John Trimmack, takes measurements for a rather large and physically impressive half-orc. John had done work for Jugh and his boss in the past. He knew they were part of a criminal enterprise that while not the most notorious, was quite violent. As Jugh was describing the work he wanted done to his custom tunic he made mention of having to get down to the docks because of a ship coming in. Once Jugh left, John went into the back of Trimmack Couture to meet with his only employee. Jennessen had been with him for the past year. Even though she is blind, she could sew and stitch better than anyone John knew, himself included.

He explains Jugh's order to her and then mentions something else. "Jennessen, I need your sigh again. Please, find what you can about a ship belonging to Mr. Bones coming into port tonight. I get the feeling it will be important to him." Jennessen smiles and nods and continues sewing. John then goes over to a corner of the back room and presses a button that is well concealed. A lever releases. John then walks over and lifts up a rug to exposes the floor. Though it can't been seen, when he pushes down on it with his foot, a trap door releases and opens up. John then makes his way down into his hidden safehouse and begins preparing his gear. He is able to exit his safehouse into a dried out well that is hidden behind overgrown bushes in a dilapidated minor estate behind Trimmack Couture. The Sable Warden was soon to be on the hunt.

[ptrcz09]

The Warden suppresses a curse as he stumbles on a carelessly discarded scrap of wood that he had no seen. The half-orc watching the pier stirs and places his hand on his sword, as though he heard something, but it appears that drunkenness mixed with the loudness of the company put his mind at ease.

You are able to sneak past the trio of mercenaries, but the sword now looks to be beyond your grasp. Moving along the pier towards the small cutter ship moored at the end, you are soon assailed with a foul stench that explains why the guards were positioned so far away. From the belly of the ship, you hear a yapping sound almost like that of a dog, but guttural and raspy.

Do you go into the ship or return to the guards?

[The BBEG]

The Warden tries to discern if it is the actual yapping of a dog, or perhaps a humanoid creature such as a kobold or goblin. His previous experiences have told him it can be difficult to tell the difference. While teaching those three a lesson is on his to do list, finding out what or who is on the ship is his primary goal. Either through the use of a grappling hook or by sneaking up the ramp, the Warden will attempt to silently make it aboard the ship.

Perception: (1d20+9)[29]
Stealth: (1d20+5)[18]
Climb: (1d20+8)[10] (if needed for grappling hook rope climb)

OOC: John speaks Common, Dwarven, Elven, Orc, Goblin, and Undercommon if one of those are being spoken.

[ptrcz09]

You spot a single porthole, not too far away from your location on the peer. Checking to be sure you won't be visible to the drunken guards, you approach the medium size galley, throw your grappling hook over the rail, and climb the side of the vessel. After momentarily slipping, you are able to get up to the porthole.

You cannot see anything inside, as there is no light to be had, but with your ear to the glass you can make out that there are actually three different dog-like sounds. The first is an animalistic yapping with no discernible meaning other than excitement. The other two, however, are conversing in goblin. One is small and angry while the other is deep and dull.

How could yous be letting thems escapes. I splice your ears fer dis. Says the small voice.

Wumba, it not be my fault. The pen be open when I come in... The deep voice cuts off with a yelp of pain.

No 'scuses! We both be killed and turned ta feed if we don't find da cargo.

There is some shifting and scuttling from inside and you can tell that some sort of search has commenced.