The Chronicle:

Meanwhile, I had proposed that we go search some inns to find the man described in uncle Enrique's last letter, and believed to be a trafficker in slaves.  Juan and Meli had come to know quite a few inns in Freiburg, and I was happy for their help, all the more so since I do not speak Eisen, but all my companions do to some degree.  Meli helped me dress, the both of us rigging ourselves in what could only be described, I regret to say, as "bait" guise.  Juan was doubly willing to accompany us because he wished to hire a few musicians to help with the impromptu soiree now being organized.

We ended up at an inn situated in a less savoury part of the city, on the assumption that this would be a more likely area for unlawful activities.  (This, of course, begs the question of whether there can be any unlawful activities in a lawless city!).  I had noticed earlier – as had we all – that Melisandre had become troubled upon hearing the suspect's description.  It appeared it closely matched that of a family friend, former associate of her father, who is now living in the city of Freiburg.  Now we found this man, Tibold Dedrick, in the inn, and were able to observe for ourselves how well he fit the description.  Furthermore, he was involved in trade, which would make him an even likelier suspect.  While Meli chatted with Tibold, I discussed my concerns with my cousins and Ferdinand under the pretence on dancing with them each in turn.  Ferdinand revealed to me that he too knew this man, that upon his arrival in the city he had discovered this individual to be in the business of selling possessions stolen from Occupied Castille as "antiques."  Ferdinand showed little liking for the man, since he had found some of his own family's heirlooms in the man's possession.

Although the four of us agreed Tibold looked like our man, we noticed no signs that the place was currently being used to capture unwary patrons; the people we saw seemed rather to be regulars and hardened locals.  We agreed to leave for the night and research what we could find in the City archives.  Perhaps we could learn what other properties Tibold held.  Ferdinand volunteered to stay behind and follow Tibold when he left.

Upon our return to the embassy, Melisandre hesitantly worked her way around the knot of the matter.  It became apparent that even with her old friendship for the personable Tibold, she could not quell her own suspicions.  She spoke of how one can find one's self embroiled into shady matters without being a blackguard by nature.  She mentioned that Tibold had spoken of his warehouse on the riverfront of the Rostrom.  At first I mistook this to mean that she had approached Tibold and he had offered some sort of compromise that would keep him out of harm's way.  I indicated that I was tasked with capturing the slavers and wished to dismantle their network and free the slaves.  If Tibold was naught but a middleman and was volunteering information to clear himself, it was those responsible I needed to stop.

However, I had misapprehended the situation.  It became clear that she knew of the warehouse from much earlier, when Ferdinand was looking for his family's heirlooms.  "Why would Tibold have let us visit his warehouse then if he was a slaver?" she argued.  I responded that no matter what my personal feelings were, traffic of Castillan possessions was not my concern for the moment; traffic of human beings was.  She wanted a promise that we would in no way harm him, but I could not give such assurances.  In the interim, Ferdinand had returned and informed us that, despite his not inconsequential skill in shadowing, Tibold had easily lost him, as if the man was either suspicious or used precautions against being followed as a matter of course.  Either way, the man was very skilled at evading followers.

We all decided to go take a look at Tibold Dedrick's warehouse.  We found a large, almost featureless oblong building with a small office door and a large dock door, and all windows shuttered tightly.  Ferdinand, Meli, and I being more adept at moving discreetly, approached the two doors in turn while Lucas and Juan waited a bit further.  We found the dock door well locked, while behind the smaller office door we could see light and hear the voices of several men who seemed to be playing cards.

Ferdinand decide to attempt to climb to the roof.  But he made some noise and attracted the attention of the men inside.  They sent one of theirs to check on it.  Ferdinand, who is remarkably quick and quiet, surprised the man and rendered him unconscious.  He seemed about to bury him in the snow, but the rest of us stopped him, preferring to tie and gag the man and hide him near the dock.  Then Ferdinand tried climbing the roof again, but either because he made more noise or because they were wondering about their companion, half a dozen men soon walked out of the warehouse's office and started calling after the missing Fritz.

I seized the opportunity; making my way to the door, I tried it and found it still unlocked.  I saw a small office with a table, chairs, several cabinets, and an abandoned card game.  Across the room was another door which I surmised must lead to the warehouse main area.  I walked in, snatched a lantern, tiptoed across the room, found the second door unlocked,  and slipped inside the darkened storage area.  With great caution, I moved behind some crates in the hopes of letting my eyes adjust to the darkness.  Unfortunately, the windows were so well shuttered that no light filtered through at all.  I waited until I could hear the men return, go back to their card game, and get engrossed in it (my companions later told me they had overheard the conversation indicating that the guards believed Fritz had gone off to drink.)

When they sounded well into their game, I cautiously lit the lantern and started looking around the warehouse for some sort of hiding place.   I easily found an open trap door leading down to a basement area.  I shone the light down; the place reeked of human effluvium, and behind some barrels I could see a glint of metal.  With great care to avoid noise, I crept down the ladder to take a look.  The stench was much stronger down there, although the floor appeared to have been recently hosed down.  The shine of metal turned out to come from a pile of leg irons and manacles.  I picked up a pair of manacles and, wrapping them in my scarf to muffle them, slipped them inside my jacket.  I wanted to bring back some proof for Meli.  I checked the contents of the barrels, and found one filled with some sort of white powder; I took a sample of it in my drawstring purse.  Then I climbed back up, unshuttered a window, and slipped out.

Meanwhile, however, Melisandre had surmised that I would need a distraction to get out of the warehouse.  She had gone to a nearby alehouse, purchased several steins, and brought them to the men inside.  Just as I getting out of the warehouse unbeknownst to her, she was at the front door and telling them she was a tavern wench Fritz had sent with beer for them. The plan was not a bad one, on the contrary, but when the men invited her in she complied, not realizing they intended to add her to the evening's festivity.  Although someone as beautiful as Meli should perhaps be aware of the risks women can encounter, she has lived a relatively sheltered life and is not always suspicious enough!

The men closed the door behind her and started trying to force themselves upon her, but she immediately screamed for help and of course my cousins, Ferdinand, and I ran to the rescue.  Juan, who was closest, started breaking the door down with his gauntlet.  I helped him with a good solid kick, and together we crashed it open.  Lucas ran in to confront the miscreants, and we all followed him into a general melee.  The man who seemed to be the leader was holding Melisandre and violently hitting her with his fist.  Lucas attacked him, while we dispatched the others; Meli grabbed the heavy steins and started throwing them at our opponents, with good effect.  Finally, finding myself faced with the ringleader in turn, I struck him a blow that put him down.

I rapidly explained to my companions what I had found downstairs.  To her regret, Melisandre identified the powder as a narcotic, never used in surgery because it thins the blood too much, but likely to be used to sedate prisoners.  Meli was frantic to leave, and Juan and Ferdinand escorted her back to the embassy.  They took with them the wounded and unconscious leader of the night gards, to be thrown on the lower deck of the Maris Stella until we could interrogate him.

Lucas wanted to wait for the Watch and explained the situation, and I wanted to collect the records kept in this office to examine them.  When two members of the Watch showed up, Lucas negotiated with them in Eisen, finally bribing them to let us take the papers.  They admitted shamelessly that they had been on the take to leave this warehouse alone.  We returned to the embassy; there, we discovered that the papers were all in the language of Montaigne!  Fortunately, Armin speaks and read Montaigne and assisted us.  The real owner of the warehouse was a Montaigne Porté sorcerer by the name of Paroisse, but Tibold was also using the warehouse for his own "business."  We found no indication whatsoever that Paroisse was involved in the slave ring or knew of it.

The next morning, we all woke up early enough for mass, then Lucas, Juan, Ferdinand, and I went to talk to our prisoner on the Maris Stella.  With a judicious application of a bit of gold and some threats (four dubloons went further than mayhem), we came to an understanding.  We learned what little he knew of the traffic, and the assurance that he would get out of town directly.  He had no wish to see Tibold again after this; he said people who failed Tibold were found later in a gutter with an extra smile.  It seemed the slave shipments from the warehouse were small, maybe a dozen at a time, and loaded onto Die Zierlich perhaps once a month.  The ship always left in the downriver direction, never upriver.

Then with Ferdinand's help as a translator I went to research the city archives, looking for Tibold's connections.  He owns two taverns, including the one where Meli had got the beer, a small charter boat, and the merchant vessel Die Zierlich.  Moreover, we discovered that Die Zierlich was docked at the moment.  Because Freiburg is a lawless city, I did not feel in a good position to attempt to arraign Die Zierlich here; but as Juan pointed out, downstream areas along the Roth are not so chaotic and I might be able to get some assistance from some Eisenfürsten.  It seemed it fitted my orders better to ambush her downriver and inspect her cargo, perhaps catching also the ship to which the slaves were to be transferred.  Thus, I resolved to take the Maris Stella out again to lie in waiting.  It is regrettable that I will miss the little soiree organized for doña Urraca, but I am sure my friends will let me know what transpired...