Well that had gone damn magnificently! Just damn magnificently. Well, working with slavers always had it's own little troubles, but usually you didn't need to worry about shipwrecks... Not unless you happen to be ON the DAMN ship when a damn storm hits. The tall man quivered from head to toe with barely restrained anger while adjusting a dwarven made monocle over his left eye. Even his very well waxed mustache quivered with rage. He had been assured that nothing would go wrong. NOTHING. WOULD. GO. WRONG.

The fellow was of noble birth, though a noble still he was now in his mid 40's - he was a duke to be exact, Duke Alexander Blackwood to be even more exact and boy he was furious. He'd get the slaves back even if he'd have to cripple most of them to do it. At this point his anger had really put him to the point that just bringing the slaves back - be they alive or dead - was the only thing in his mind.

Across his back was a long barreled musket, finest dwarven craftsmanship money could buy - and boy did he have money to spend after the... unfortunate fishing accident his father had ended up in. One of the slower and stupider sailors had already met one of his sidearms - an equally well made dwarven blunderbuss pistol. Ofcourse the Duke had immediately made sure the fellow would get a proper burial... In an unmarked grave in the middle of nowhere, but a burial at least. Meticulously the tall nobleman reloaded the pistol and returned it to the holster hanging from his belt opposite of a saber. "No Duke Blackwood, nothing will go wrong." His fingers twitched slightly as he motioned the ten men of his personal guard in their dark green and gray uniforms, who still were in fighting condition to follow him while the rest would guard the ship. "Ulric and his damn bunch of missfits has a healthy headstart on us. Better catch up to him." He glanced over his shoulder at one of the men who were not in condition to fight, but was at least helping the others stay alive. "Tell the captain that I will have words with him after this whole thing is said and done." The duke and his small - though unnervingly well armed - group began following the trail of both the slaves and Ulric's group. It had to be at least said that though Alexander Blackwood was feeling older by the day he still had all the youthful energy of a man 20 years younger - not to mention he was still an expert tracker.