The party, having exhausted their welcome in the Baronies, travel to the Cypril Coast where they chance apon a plan to raid the City of Storms, a port famed for its rapeous taxation and illgotten wealth.  Hearing the Black Corsairs, with the dark necromantic backers, are to embark of a raid on the next moonless night, they decide to take the oppotunity to do get in ahead of crowd and flee during the subsequent chaos.

With seasoned use of persuation and coercion discover that the landward entrance to the city is all but unguarded, protected by the Merciless Barrans, a wide expanse of exposed badlands, baked by the merciless sun in the day and whipped by howling winds in the freezing nights, and that Temple Purser has a chest brimming with coin and magical curios, to risk entering the city by night from the land and liberate the chest's contents and flee by boat while the guards are distracted.

The party split, with Fernandez crewing a small boat to follow the Black Fleet in and aid the party's escape while Chuwah, Darcy O'toole and Hogarth make their way across the hostile landscape with only copiously quantities of water and hardtack.  At the setting sun they sneak across the rapidly cooling rocky ground to the city walls, its gates closed but unguarded.  With the night behind them blacker than a demon's heart they careful climb onto the rampart and make their way across to the temple complex.

With only their sleathiest hirelings the party scout the grounds, finding the purser's office as described by an bitter ship's coinkeep after the application of strong liquor.  With alacrity and a strong crowbar the exterior door is forced open in the name of Mordor and the party enter in.  Applying a similar technique to the large wooden chest behind the over compensating sized desk results in its contents spilling onto the floor, the result of too many tools applied at once.  With the timing of fate a bell can be heard on the wind, seemingly distant to their ears.  Shortly thereafter a thunderous boom is heard and many more bells and whistles float across the wind, many worryingly loud and potentially close by.

A scabble ensues as the party try to optimize their takings while avoiding confrontation but are forced to flee as guards try to interrupt the looting by entering the barricaded inner door.  They flee but are pursued towards the complex wall where their hirelings wait upon the wall, with ropes at the ready.  All the party but one, Ignatious the Footloose, make it up the onto the wall, but a halbard strike severed Ignatious' lower left leg below the knee, slaying him instantly from blood lose and shock.

Exiting down the other side of the wall the party flee past hovels of the poor and the walled mansions of the rich until they the wide piazza behind the sturdy magesty of the Harbour Master's Offices.  Spying a magical vortex blocking their direct path to the docks the party attempt ignore it, but are pushed back and many knocked to the ground from a blast of wind eminating from the swirling mass of dark cloud.  Instead the party cut across the deserted cobbled square, now slick with the pelting rain, recently started from previously black empty skies but as their neared the center a burning bolt of lightning strikes many of them, slaying a number of hirelings.  Chuwah instructs a hireling to rescue a magical axe from a fallen comrade only for that hireling to fall victim to a second strike.  While the rest flee to safety beyond the corner of the looming Office building a third hireling of Chuwah risks life and limb to secure the axe, dodging the third and final lightning bolt.

Avoiding the fray surrounding the Harbour Master's Office the party sneak onto the docks, now packed with corsair raiding vessels.  Sneaking through the clutter of the harbourside they chance upon a group of corsair raiders and its plated sergeant.  With sorcereous magic Chuwah enchants the corsairs into the land of slumber while the sergent is cut down with arrow fire.  With cold blood and steely knives the corsairs are murdered in their sleep, their slain corpses looting of valuables and their leader carried off as loot, his plate armour to be stripped at are more oppotune moment.  Releasing a flare they see a corresponding light at the far end of the docks, so continue to make their way through the dark and storming night.

Reaching the start of a jetty guarded by four armoured corsairs a decision is made to give them a wide beath, however the swirling vortex (or another one) is gusting on a wide incline leading down to the docks for the raised city.  Darcy suggested that marching between these two perils would be inconspicious so the party attempt a martial gait across the wide roadway running between the jetty and the rising incline.  To her distress the corsairs interpret their actions as paramilitary activity and decide to eliminate a posse of dock watchmen.  Chuwah calls forth the wild forces of raw elemental magic directly from the Elemental Planes of Ice and Cold (or even the freezing Hells of Stygia), freezing the water beneath the skidding feet of the metal armoured assailents, three of which tumble onto the hard stone dockside.  The vortex now feels are combined mass of activity and decides to unlease the arcing bolt of lightning along the roadway, striking hard against the party, who flee, peppering the corsairs with arrowfire as their exit stage left.

Finally reaching Fernandez a snap choice is made to upgrade their escape boat into a corsair ship.  Slaying the oblivious guards and several corsair sailors the remaining crew turn coat and sign on under new contract and assist they party as they set sail for safety is the distance runrise.  Searching the ship they find a fine compliment of consumerables, two captured guards, two captured slave girls and a templebureaucrat.  The party feast of looted luxuries and rich grog to the rising sun as they map out their new careers as (Independent) Black Fleet Corsairs.

XP

310 each

Loot

Chuwah: 88 GP, two sets of Wings of the Albatross and an Air Spring

Hogarth: 378 GP, a set of Wings of the Albatross and a Potion of Gaseous Form

Darcy: 41 GP, two sets of Wings of the Gull and a set of Wings of the Albatross