5 The Society Of Lobstermen

Seafood, obviously, is a staple in Freeport’s diet, and lobster is the priciest delicacy on the market. Very few average folks in town can afford it, but the dinner tables and restaurants of the Merchant District have it in good rotation (along with oddities such as imported beef and chicken). The dish comes dear for a simple reason: there aren’t many lobsters in Freeport’s waters, and those present are tough to catch. Like the people of Freeport, the lobsters have become adept at surviving by any means necessary, clinging to rocks, hiding in caves, and even snipping open traps. It takes a special kind of fisherman to bring them to the surface—it’s more of an art than a job.

So why do the Lobstermen have a fleet of three well-appointed ships? Why do they have a fancy “guild headquarters” on the border of the Merchant District? Why do they never seem to want for money or goods? Why do they get all those fancy, peculiar visitors from out of town? And why do they go so damned far off the coast to do their fishing? The truth is: The Lobstermen do catch the creatures, and they’re regular pros at the job. But that’s not all they go scrounging
for down in the depths.

History
Balboa Cockle, a tinker of no small intelligence, founded the Lobstermen’s society decades ago. He hit upon the idea that if so many ships had been sunk in the waters around Freeport, then the sea floor must be overflowing with gold. He knew if he got wizards involved, they’d either steal his idea or take the lion’s share of the profits in exchange for magic. Locking himself in his laboratory for weeks, he devised a suit of brass, glass and canvas designed to let the wearer explore the floor of the ocean. The only problem was that Cockle’s contraption required somebody on the surface of the water to work an air pump, and he was at a loss for friends. So he formed an alliance with the only group of people in Freeport who were bigger loners than he was—the handful of misanthropic fishermen who hunted lobsters.

They succeeded beyond their wildest dreams. They found wreck after wreck beneath the waves, each loaded with more booty than the last. Cockle and his allies were smart; rather than make a great show of their wealth, they invested in prudent improvements to their boats and equipment. Over the decades, they grew into a full-fledged society—codes of secrecy were established, initiation rites created, and a headquarters acquired. They undertook moves to expand, streamline, and protect their business. The society’s emissaries have traveled the shipping lanes, letting it be known that anyone wanting something retrieved from the depths can have it for the right price—hence the visitors at all hours, most of whom seek some heirloom or other priceless gewgaw that’s now gathering coral. The Lobstermen will fetch anything, no questions asked. They are a tight-lipped, adamantly neutral crew.

They vigorously monitor the shipping lanes and patrol their undersea haunts in Cockle Shells (as they call their diving suits). Anyone who ventures below the waves and snoops around for lost treasure may likely contend with one or more mysterious figures wielding tridents and weighted nets. Rumor has it that the Lobstermen have also acquired some arcane means to render water-breathing magic useless, which is devastatingly effective underwater. The sea has closed over more than one party of reckless adventurers who thought that magic was all they needed for protection down below.

Description
The Society of Lobstermen operates out of an enormous four-story building that faces the warehouse district. An impressive building by any standards in the city, it looms over the rest of the Docks, rising above the squalor as if to remind Freeporters of its influence and power. The north side of the structure consists of two square towers capped with pyramidal roofs bearing lightning rods that carry the current somewhere inside the building—for what purpose, none can say. These towers have several windows at each level, and gaudy statues and bas-reliefs reveal the extent of the society’s wealth. The rest of the place is taken up with a heavily guarded warehouse that holds the items they dredge up from the seas until they can be appraised and sold in the city.

In addition to the building, the society owns a dozen ships of various sizes. The ships are equipped with cranes, diving bells, and a slew of other diving equipment. When in port, the ships are under heavy guard to protect the organization’s secrets.

Prominent Characters
Poul Renier: After Balboa Cockle died a few years ago in a diving accident involving a randy sea lion and a faulty new diving suit, his heir apparent was a half-elf named Poul Reiner. A skilled swimmer and a veteran diver of nearly a hundred descents, there was little doubt about his skill and worthiness to fill the founder’s shoes. Reiner is a secretive man who doesn’t like attention. He can be found alone in his offices when he’s not accompanying a crew at sea, and he commands a network of informers and spies to bring him news about sunken vessels or odd sightings at sea.

Since taking over, Reiner has stepped up the dives. He’s not looking for more treasures, though most missions recover treasures as always. Rather, the extra operations are to explore the sunken ruins of ancient civilizations in places far from the common sea lanes. Reiner is obsessed with the artifacts and carvings recovered, and when he examines a new piece brought back, his eyes take on a feverish cast, something that disturbs those closest to him.

Although Reiner can pass for human, evidence of elven blood is clear. He has vaguely pointed ears and angular features. He has a slight frame that conceals a wiry strength and uncanny endurance.

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