Black Hart

Gradsul by Twilight

Chapter 10 - The Shelliak

The docks were slightly less busy now, but there were still plenty of people around - less dockers and cartmen, but more riff-raff and general lowlifes, and a lot more sailors, mostly drunk.
As they returned to the Shelliak, they found it as they had left it. A single-masted, narrow boat, there was little activity about it, and no apparent activity onboard. It was docked to its port side, and the main access to below-decks seemed to be to the aft, just in front of the boat's wheel, a pair of doors made of the same fine wood as the rest of the boat.
Akhan wrinkled his nose at the stench coming from all the unmentionable debris floating in the docks.  Not that he wasn't used to working in some noisome locations when required - Torrisz Keep sprang to mind.
But Gradsul docks seemed a bit too enthusiastic in the stinky stakes for his comfort. 
"When do you want to make a move then 'Zeb'?"  While he said this he continued to take a good look around the Shelliak and the characters who were roaming the area around this part of the waterfront.  "There might not be anyone visible on board but it'd be a safer bet to assume that were at least some crewmembers down below. How many crew did you spot earlier on?"
Eloi shrugged.
"Never saw anyone," he replied.
"Looks like a two or three-crewed boat," Cinion said. "Probably could be manned solo at a pinch."
More worrying to Akhan was the question of which Guild's patch this was.  Prime suspect would be Gelders' bunch, but that would mean there would quite likely be a few of his stooges knocking around the waterfront.  If there was still anything of great value on board, and even on general principle, they certainly wouldn't want anyone just wandering on to have a look around. 
He voiced these concerns to the others and added, "That entrance seems far too exposed for my liking.  We'd probably be spotted a mile off attempting that from the dockside.  Maybe we could make our way on from further below the level of the docks though - hire or steal a smallcraft and climb up from water level."
His mind was beginning to get into the flow of things now.  "Another possibility would be a diversion of course.  I don't know that we'd need to go overboard setting fire to stuff, but maybe we could organise a brawl nearby.  Of course we could do that as well as using a boat." 
Akhan was sure there were probably technical names for the doorway he was referring to but he couldn't think what they'd be.
"As far as I remember anything about boats, they've usually got hatches leading down below from the deck.  Once up and over the side we could use one of those."  Akhan looked at the other two, feeling happier now that he could see the outline for this caper.  "It's not fully dark yet. If we move ourselves we could find a small rowing boat to hire or buy - I don't think we want to go stealing one around here.  After all, we don't know how easily they're spotted.  Anybody disagree?  'Zeb'?
'Devion'?  You want to stick your oar in?"  Akhan grimaced.  Maybe he'd leave naval humour alone for now.
Eloi looked at Akhan with a wry grin on his face. "For once I am in total agreement with you my friend. I do not think it would be a good idea to simply walk up the gangplank. We should try to find some small rowboat which we can take to the seaward side of the ship. We can then climb on board."
He looked around the docks looking for anyone that seemed out of place in the locale. "I do not like the idea of a diversion though, I think this is the time for stealth. We simply steal a rowboat and get on board the ship."
"Best hurry," Cinion said, screwing his face up as a drop of rain fell on his face. "Wind's picking up, I reckon that storm's on its way."
"The crates are bound to be stored in compartments below the decks," Eloi stated. "These should be accessed easily from the main deck through an access hatch. We might also take a quick look at the ship's accommodation whilst we are there. However, we take no risks. As soon as we smell the wiff of danger we abort the mission. I do not want our cover to be blown during our second night in Gradsul."
He started to walk along the docks looking for a suitable rowboat to commandeer. "Why don't you and Devion hold hands, Vesic? It would make us look less conspicuous"
Eloi laughed heartily at his own little joke. Wandering down the dock, he soon found a rowboat, but as he sat down in it he realised he hadn't a clue what to do. He had never so much as been in a boat in his life. As the others sat down, he stared at Akhan, then at Cinion, and shrugged.
Akhan leaned over, whispering, "I'd have thought you'd know how do row, seeing as it means you avoid the water an' all!"
Akhan grinned at his own wit as he sat between the oars, trying to pretend he had ever rowed before himself. With all his might he pulled on the oars, almost bursting a blood vessel as he rowed and rowed - they were going nowhere.
As he gave up, Cinion sat and stared disapprovingly at his team-mates. Shaking his head, he stood up, shooing Akhan away without a word. He leaned over to the dock, untied the boat, then sat down and began rowing.
The boat seemed to glide almost effortlessly away from the pier.
"You've done this before, haven't you!" Eloi whispered in amazement.
Cinion did not even make the effort to reply.
Within a few minutes they were approaching the Shelliak. With the gentlest splish of water Cinion brought the rowboat to a halt a foot or so from its anchor.
Cinion stood up and took hold of the anchor - in a couple of fluid movements he was lying on the deck, gently pulling the rowboat's rope which they now saw he had held on to. By the time the dynamic duo had made it onto the deck, without (to Cinion's surprise) any fuss or commotion, he had tied it off to the Shelliak.
They were at the prow of the boat - a few feet away a hatch lay in the deck, probably leading to the boat's hold. To the port and starboard narrow walkways led to the rear, where the ship's wheel, and the door to the crew quarters they had seen earlier, was.
Looking to the dock, they did not seem to have been noticed by anyone as yet. This was not surprising as most of the denizens there seemed to be well under the influence, or going about their business. Or both.
Akhan slid the patch up over the Eye.  So far so good - they'd made it onto the boat, seemingly without being detected, and he intended to keep it that way.  Without really thinking about it he'd started to move more fluidly now; his body seeming to float over to the hatch in the deck.  Looking at the others he pointed downwards trying to indicate where he thought they should proceed.
In his crouching position he regarded the hatch.  In all probability there'd be some sort of nasty trick left here for the unwary.  This was a vessel which was very likely under the protection of a Thieves Guild. Which meant that it was also very likely that some bright spark had arranged an interesting and creative surprise for any intruders.
Taking particular care he scanned both the hatch and all the surrounding ropes and gubbins for any sign of a trap.  He took care to have a look around the deck for any concealed little hideyholes too. He certainly didn't want any hidden guards popping out on them!
Keeping one eye on the access ramp and door to the crew's quarters Eloi crept over to the access hatch and bent down on his haunches. "Well, Akhan, any traps?"
Eloi looked at Cinion and whispered, "Keep an eye on that door and the access ramp. We don't want anyone interrupting our business."
Akhan took some time to check out the hatch - there was little room to hide a trap, but the light was poor. As he finished examining it he felt heavier, more continual rain start to fall on his face.
"No traps," he whispered. "And there are two large crates in there, big mothers!"
Eloi pushed him aside, saying, "Let me see."
He could not see much more than the outline of the crates, but they were big. He screwed his face up as he checked it over for traps, as the rainfall became heavier. The hatch was locked, but it was a facile and pointless excuse for a lock, and it took Eloi mere seconds to open it.
Eloi slowly opened the hatch with a grimace on his face. He hoped that Akhan's and his trap finding skills had been up to the job. Once the hatch was opened he gripped the sides of the opening and poked his head through the hatch. It took a few moments for his vision to adjust to the blackness of the hold and he scanned the room looking for any further signs of traps and got a better look at the crates.
He motioned for Cinion to come other and whispered.
"As you are the smallest I sugget you go down first and check the place out. Search the hold for any doors, traps and secret doors. Once you are satisfied I will join you. Akhan will stay here and keep guard. I don't want to be caught with me pants down. Once we are finished in the hold we can look over the rest of the ship."
With a casual glance, Cinion peered into the hold, and dropped down quietly.

Down the docks Smokelight and Kyros strolled, making their way through the crowds. Despite the late hour they were still busy, with revellers and workers, the few ships who now docked bearing lights and needing pilots to guide them to their berth. As they approached the Promenade, the wide street leading to the Plasfeyr where Hannay lived and 'worked', they were having difficulty making their way forward as a crowd had formed.
"Make way now," Kyros demanded, "come on, let me master be on his way. He's a busy man!"
The mostly peasant-folk took one look at them, and Kyros' weapons, and shifted aside. They noticed that the crowd were looking to one medium sized ship, a merchant vessel which bore the flag of the South Province of the Great Kingdom.
In fact, their attention was mostly taken from a group of people, about twelve in all, leaving the ship. Three seemed to be adults, the rest were children of varying ages, but their faces were covered by hoods.
They seemed scared by the crowd, who were restless, and apart from one as they disembarked they formed a huddle and began to walk onto the dock. As the crowd parted, fearfully, a tall hooded person who seemed to be calmer than anyone else led them forward. As they drew closer, both men saw that the woman, for it was a woman, had covered her face with a metal mask.
"Go back!" someone yelled from behind them.
"We don't want your kind here!" another yelled from across the gap.
"Witches!" cried another. "Freaks"
He did not realise at first, but as they came closer Kyros recognised them - Joydhee's Children.
And the woman was Ekandril, a priestess of Joydhee herself, whom Kyros had once encountered!
Joydhee's children were blessed, or cursed as some might have it, with strange powers by birthright. Feared and hated by most, they were usually loners and were driven out of most civilised places as their talents came to light. Most died in childhood.
They were particularly hated and feared by Ivid, and their persecution was an entertaining distraction for him. And so this Ekandril had taken it upon herself to wander the Aerdi lands saving and gathering up these Children, taking them from persecution to safety.
In North Province, Kyros, the other Kyros that he now despised so, had been tasked to take one of these Children to the Herzog as a birthday present for the Overking. Outraged, and slightly fearful, at discovering this Ekandril had taken his quarry, Kyros had taken his men to hunt her down, and take them all to the Herzog.
All went well until they closed in on the group - entering a forest after them, they soon lost the trail. Then the fog descended, and at times they could not tell what was up or down. They rode into trees, and some were pushed mysteriously from their horses. The animals panicked, battle-hardened men screamed at unknown horrors, and it was all Kyros could do to rally his men and flee the woods.
Once outside the forest, everything within seemed peaceful and unthreatening, but Kyros knew better than to return there. It was lucky for him that a week later, before returning to the Herzog, they captured an enemy spy which delighted his master so that he forgot the Children.
The tension was mounting and suddenly a stone flew through the air, striking the wooman in front on the head. She fell to the ground almost at Kyros' feet, dazed by the blow, and as her hood rolled off both men saw that she had a nasty cut to her scalp, beneath her long dark hair, with an eerie white streak through it to the left of centre.
As she tried to come to, and regain her feet, the crowd seemed to surge forward and the crowd of hooded ones, although eager to help her, now seemed petrified into inaction.
Kyros could hardly help himself from recoiling at the woman before him. This is Ekandril! He thought to himself, his mind racing furiously. The fear of being discovered, his past resurfacing, churned in his gut anew. Kyros gritted his teeth to keep himself in check. He knew he was in disguise, and so should still be safe. His inclination was to walk away, to pretend he didn't care.
But he did care. Not the old, distant man he once was, but the one alive and breathing today, the priest of the god of rogues, the man of weal and good. A woman lay before him, helpless; the crowd appeared hostile. Kyros could not bring himself to go.
He'd have to run from this place if she recognised him, Aranon's instructions be damned. A quick steeling of his resolve, and Kyros turned to the gathering crowd.
Smokelight must have noticed him curse under his breath at the sight of the woman falling. The expression of anger and shock on his face was no disguise. Kyros seemed frozen for a moment, fists clenched by his side, right hand involuntarily wandering to his sword hilt. No more in the role of a lowly henchman, but in the guise of a tall Furyondian duelist in black leather and cape, Kyros saw no need to hold himself back.
"Stay back!" He boomed at the surging crowd. "What manner of behaviour is this? The woman is defenceless; leave her be and go your way." Kyros stepped forward, next to the woman, placing himself between the woman and the crowd, his mind wondering if Smokelight was going to back him up in this.
"Lady, are you all right?" Kyros directed the question at her, his arm stretched down as she began to get up, not turning to look at her, keeping his eyes on the crowd, not able to will himself to turn to her yet.
To a man, the crowd shuffled away from Kyros, with only a few of the 'braver' ones calling out insults from the rear.
"Burn them, burn the twisted ones!"
The woman gratefully took Kyros' help, and rose to her feet, still somewhat dazed.
"Thank you, milord," one of the other hooded ones said, stepping forward to support the woman.
Both men could see inside this person's hood, and that he did not wear a mask. He was a young man, in his late teens, with a visage that betrayed a fine Oeridian heritage.
The woman, a faint line of blood trickling from beneath her mask, turned to Kyros, who reluctantly met her gaze. As the woman looked to Kyros, a gentle woman's voice ran through his head.
"The snake wears a new skin," she said.
It was an old Aerdi proverb, used to proclaim an air-sea change in a person's point of view, or personality!
Ekandril's words whirled in Kyros' mind. He was a seasoned enough adventurer not to be unnerved by telepathic messages, but the sheer surprise of the closeness of her voice in his mind threw him off for a moment. She had recognised him! Throught the disguise! And remembered him from many years ago.
The incident flashed through his thoughts: the child, the forest, the panic... Kyros cursed silently at the memories.
"A snake no more," Kyros spoke in his mind as he helped her up. She nodded in his direction, and then walked slowly away, supported by the young man, her crowd following. The dockside crowd parted to let them by, all quiet by now in fear of Kyros' wrath.
Kyros seemed thoughtful for a moment, then turned to Smokelight. A few drops of thick rain fell on both men, and as they looked around the skies darkened, the crowd dispersing in anticipation of the coming downpour.
As she walked away, he heard her say, "The cart moves on, but the wheel always returns to the same place."
Another Aerdi proverb, like the Ketish 'what goes around, comes around', or Furyondyan saying, 'one good turn begets another'
He stood in comtemplation for a moment, before realising that Smokelight was watching him stare into space.
Kyros gazed at the group of hooded ones walking away from him, oblivious to the droplets which began to fall from the slate-grey clouds above, and said nothing for a moment.
"Johydee's children." He spoke, finally, in a quiet voice, more to himself than to Smokelight beside him - there were hardly any people around already; most had taken shelter from the rain.
"Outcast children, with unpredictable powers. Often ostracised and persecuted. I've...seen them, many years back."
Smokelight said nothing, but was rather impressed with Kyros' show of bravery and decisiveness. He was seeing the true mettle of one of his companions. Smokelight stood by, hoping that nothing would come of the intervention, because he was quite adverse to casting spells in public. He was glad to see the mob retreat under Kyros' show of courage -- cowards, just like he thought, superstitious cowards...
"Not bad, my annointed friend," Smokelight muttered to Kyros as the mob retreated.
Part of Smokelight was irritated that this was happening. Defending Aerdian cultists was not any of the Griffin Team's affair, and actually getting involved in a possibly volitile situation that was none of their business only increased the risks of Kyros and Smokelight become "noticeable." It was damned irritating, even if it was the right thing to do.
As the duo started off for the Promenade, the woman's voice entered Kyros' head again.
"Do not fret," she said. "We will be safer now - we fled Ahlissa to here to escape the Overking's reach. It was not the welcome I had hoped for, but things should get better. Now I must find my wards good homes. So go in peace, snake-with-a-new-skin. One final thing, though - Zatasha wishes to pass on a warning - she has a strong sense of what is to come. She says, 'Beware the one-eyed man,' whatever that means to you."
With that the voice ended, and there was an eerie silence in Kyros' mind.

Grimacing sourly, Akhan pulled his cloak more closely around his body. It was raining and he hadn't a hat to keep it off.  Moreover it was starting to drip down the back of his neck.  He hunched the collar up a bit more.
His feeling of disgruntlement at being told to stay out in the rain prompted him to have another look into the hold after the disappearing form of Cinion.  The large crates had aroused his curiosity and being unable to mooch around down there he stared greedily downwards. Annoyance at not being able to get his hands on the crate prompted Akhan to use the Eye to have a good look around for anything magical.
He certainly didn't want these two pocketing any magical loot down there which he didn't know about. 
As Cinion stood up from the drop, suddenly everything went dark about him. Akhan and Eloi looked at each other, then looked back down. An area about him was pure darkness. They watched for a minute, then both men drew their weapons and gave a knowing glance.
Just as they were about to drop down to his aid, the darkness faded and Cinion reappeared, unharmed. He stood still, then began moving slowly around, remaining on that one spot. After one complete turn he seemed confused, and turned again. He shook his head and seemed completely baffled.
Both men jumped as, from behind, there was a flash of light. They then realised as the soft roll of distant thunder followed that it was nothng but lightning.

With barely a sound, he touched down onto the hold floor - after searching for any obvious dangers, Cinion pulled out a darkness stone and he could see no more.
Within a few minutes he had cast both spells, and put away the pebble
Scanning for traps first, he was shocked as the whole boat shone out to him as a trap, the nature of which he could not determine - except, that was, for the two cargo crates and their contents! Again, as he checked for magic, the entire boat shone out a glimmer of faint magic, apart from the two crates.
Cinion had no beard, but if he had such a thing he was certain he would be scratching it in puzzlement at that moment - some one was either playing the 'masking' game, or they were standing on one giant trap of unknown type.
From above there was the flash of lightning and a quiet roll of thunder.

Eloi looked down at the reappeared Cinion, then at Akhan and whispered, "We have seen this once before and it nearly proved my undoing. Remember when Bermen and myself went down the trapdoor at Torriz Keep. Damn, perhaps we should have brought Smokelight. He could have dispelled this. Although the blackness has disappeared which it didn't at Torriz. Perhaps it is a less powerful form of the magic and has only one charge."
With a rueful expression on his face Akhan turned to Eloi after his comment about the magic. 
"That blackness isn't the only magical activity here.  The whole ship seems to be magically enhanced!"  He tapped his Eye to emphasise the nature of his knowledge.  "And I mean everything.  Apart from those two bloody crates down there.  Although, didn't you say they were listed as carrying lead ingots?  That might mask anything naughty concealed inside them."
Eloi took a Fennig from his pocket, thinking, 'Heads I go down to help him, tails I stay up here and haul him up by the scruff of the neck.'
Eloi tossed the coin quietly in the air and grabbed it as it fell to the ground. He lifted his hand off his palm and looked at the coin.
Akhan shook his head in frustration. "This is stupid.  You're right about needing Dunstin and I think we should get Devion out now before we spring any other magical traps." 
"Feck, its tails." Eloi winked at Akhan "Well, we still need to know what's in the crates, so, nothing wagered nothing gained. Stay here and keep watch."
Eloi gingerly began to lower himself into the hold of the ship, hoping that he would not set off any further traps and that the magic from the previous trap had been dispelled.
Akhan gripped Eloi's shoulder. "Let's not jump into anything here.  Remember what you found at the bottom of that pit at Torrisz!  Look, if Devion's set off a trap which warns these buggers then we have to get off here quick.  We can leave now and one of us can go and get Dunstin and Gresten.  The others could watch to see if anyone comes to look the ship over."
Akhan stared earnestly at Eloi, "Then if the coast is clear we could make another attempt at this with Dunstin's skills at our disposal. We've still got time.  It'll only take a moment or two to lower a rope down to Devion there."
Eloi stuck his head into the hold of the ship, noticing that Cinion had started to move about again.
"Devion, can you hear me? Are you okay? You seemed to become disorientated for a few minutes. It would appear that the hold is magically trapped. We may need to get you out in a hurry. As you are so small we can haul you up fairly easily. Now quickly, before anything else happens, openone of the crates."
Eloi hauled himself back up and looked at Akhan. "Change of plan - we continue, but there is no point in putting ourselves into further danger. We will stay here and let Devion open one of the crates. Once we know what is inside we get out of here!"
Akhan shrugged.  Cinion at least seemed to have his wits back.  He drew his dagger and edged around to the other side of the hatch to have a look round there.  It wouldn't do to get caught by a crewmember. Satisfying himself with that side he judged the best place to crouch concealed and regarded the entrance at the end of the boat...
As the rain drove down, Akhan felt that soon they would be totally unseen from the docks as it was so thick and blinding. The boat had begun to rock in the waves, the winds were rising and he felt sure, as there was another flash and rumble of thunder, that the storm was closing in.
Peering down into the hold, Cinion seemed not to hear Eloi above the storm. Drawing his dagger, he slid it between the slats of the nearest crate and with ease cracked it open. He had opened it a few inches when he first peered in. Even in the darkness, Eloi could see his eyes widen in amazement.
"What is it, what have you found?" Eloi yelled to be heard above the storm.
Cinion placed his arm inside, and pulled something out. He looked at it, small and round in the palm of his hand.
Almost ominously there was another flash of lightning, and the thunder bellowed out. As the light flashed, so did the item Cinion looked at. A familiar flash, the kind Eloi loved to see.
"Gold!" Cinion said, looking up to Eloi. "Keoish Merkke! The crates are full of gold!"

Eloi nearly pissed himself in the excitement."We're going to be fecking rich!" he whispered to no-one in particular. He called down softly to Cinion "Check the other crate, does it carry gold too?
He motioned for Akhan to come over "Gold!" he whispered. "More fecking gold than I have ever seen in my life! Why would he bring gold? What fecking use is gold unless he wanted to buy something!" He suddenly remembered Thoggin's visit and his tales of the battles in Dreadwood. "I fear where this is heading. That amount of money can only be for one thing - to finance an army."
He looked down the hold of the ship to see how Cinion was progressing "You nearly done down there? I want to be away from here? I have seen enough. Make sure that you leave no clues that we have been here. We must find out where the other crates have been taken."
With an easy motion, Cinion threw up one of the Merrke to Eloi's grubby hands, so as to verify its authenticity. Cinion was sure that more Merrke had passed through that one's grasp than he had seen in his short while in Keoland. And with that he disappeared again from view to the far side of the crates.
Water was cascading miserably down Akhan's face now and not even the thought of so much gold could lift his spirits.  In fact, the thought of two crates worth of gold almost made him sad.  They could hardly stuff it all in their pockets.
Eloi was right about one thing - it would certainly finance an army. And that was what scared him now.  The stakes lying in the hold of this ship dwarfed the silly little amounts they had just recently played for in the Golden Anchor.  This was no ordinary game.
He stared around through the shifting curtains of rain, still feeling oddly unsettled.  Funny how the presence of so much gold should upset him as much as, if not even more so, than the Drow and Shadow Dragon and all the other dangers he had faced just recently.  But it was the unknown effects that all this money would have on their game which he realised was upsetting him.  A dark elf was a dark elf and you know where you were.  These quantities of cash could potentially turn anyone.  Akhan looked anxiously at the Baron.  Fimuth had been bought for his debts from what Bermen's drow had told them.  Who else would be bought for all this lovely golden metal?  Who could they trust?
Akhan had another peep into the hold.  Still, he'd be a fool to overlook the possibilities here.  Provided they succeeded, Thoggin would no doubt attempt to blag most of this for his King.  However, they weren't under any obligation to be at all truthful about how much had actually arrived here in Gradsul.  Besides there was the professional challenge in thinking up a way to steal such a vast sum.
"Eloi, what if they're not going to unload these crates?  What if they're for somewhere else?  We might lose it.  Why don't we try to sink this boat?  That way they'd be delayed.  They'd have to be extra careful so as no-one got a sniff of all this money too.  Think of the time that'd buy us.  Surely we can make a hole in the bottom."  Akhan smiled evily.  "Pity we don't have Aranon here to bring down a fireball on one of the masts.  Make it look like a lightning blast."
Akhan wiped rain from his face.  "Even a fire in the hold would do.  We don't have to steal this gold - just make it unusable for the moment."
Eloi shook his head. "It is too early to act. We do not yet know enough about O'Shad or his motives. If we try to sink the boat then we may draw unwanted attention to him and scare him off before we find out why he is here. I am sure there are perhaps a hundred people wandering these docks tonight who would love to know that this ship contains two crates of more gold than they could even dream of. I must admit it has shaken me."
He looked back down into the hold trying to see what Cinion was up to. "The fact that he has removed two of the crates is the next lead we should follow. We must find out where those crates are and where they are bound. In my opinion Gelder's home seems like a good place to start."
The storm was becoming quite violent now, and Eloi, who had never been on the sea before in his life, felt a trifle unwell. Cinion reappeared then climbed onto the first crate and leapt up, grabbing the hold entrance and swinging himself up onto the deck.
Unlike Akhan and Eloi, who felt and looked thoroughly miserable, Cinion seemed untouched by the storm.
Akhan looked from Cinion, to the rain bouncing off the deck, and back again to Cinion.  Frowning he said, "How come the rain doesn't touch you then?" 
With a wink, Cinion said, "It's my charming personality, fine clothing, and a little mind over matter. I'll give you the name of my tailor if you'd like," he smirked. "Like Papa Whitewillow used to say 'An apple a day keeps the rain away.'"
Akhan pointed towards the stern of the ship.  "I'm going for a rummage through any papers that might be stashed in the cabins.  Coming Eloi?  Or are we going to stand around admiring how dry Devion is.  Let him stand around in the rain on guard and see how long that lasts."
"Oh, I'd be very careful if I were you," Cinion warned. "That hold was trapped all over the place and I wasn't keen on finding out the specifics. Looks like you two are gonna have to wait on your king's ransom down below. So let's finish up and get off this ship as soon as possible, ok?"
Akhan skulked off down the gangway, secretly pleased at the prospect of getting out of the rain.  As he went he continued to take great care in checking the way ahead for traps and concealed panels in the decking and bulkheads.
Soon enough Akhan stood facing the double hatch-type doors that led to the cabins
He glanced back to Eloi and Cinion, as if for reassurement. Cinion seemed a bit drawn aback as for the first time he saw Akhan without his eyepatch, and found himself staring at the big sparkling emerald that was in the socket there. Akhan turned bac to the door.
Akhan paused for a second, staring at the door.
"I don't like this," Akhan said, shouting slightly to be heard above the raging storm. "This entire damned boat reeks of magic!"
Cinion nodded.
"I noticed that too - and traps! Its like the whole boat is one giant trap!" he yelled.
The three of them looked to each other and then to the doors.
Eloi squinted through the rain at the doorway then looked at the others. "It's too dangerous to continue. We have found out what we came to find out - the contents of the crates. A good gambler knows when to quit. We leave now!"
Akhan's arms were ramrod straight and his hands gripped and ungripped into angry fists as he listened to Eloi.  Not that he necessarily disagreed with the baron's call, it was just the unaccustomed circumstance of having to do his burglary by committee which was pissing him off. 
He was completely unsure of whether to leave now or what.  Was he allowing his nerve to fail because Eloi and Cinion had managed to spook him.  Or was it genuinely too dangerous to continue?
He spat disgustedly over the side of the ship.  He'd never know now.
"Well, you're in charge." replied Cinion. Turning to Akhan, he continued, "You know I can understand about not wanting to lose a fine green lady like that, but don't you think that's a little extreme?" Cinion smiled as he pointed to the Eye, which Akhan realised Cinion had not seen before.
Cinion's comment baffled him and he looked down at the halfling with a puzzled expression. 
"Ah, I geddit." he said finally.  All the rain seemed to be leaching the humour out of Akhan and he started to move carefully back to the prow of the ship where Eloi was waiting.  As he passed Cinion though he paused and turned to him with a tight grin, revealing most of his teeth. 
"This may be strange-looking," Akhan tapped the emerald, "but you don't want to know where 'Zeb' keeps his
valuables." 
Snorting quietly he continued up the gangway, this time peering about the harbour towards the other craft anchored there. Didn't want anyone watching them, but that was highly unlikely in all this stinking wet rain.
Eloi started to make his way down the anchor and onto the rowboat. He was wet and miserable and was looking forward to a cold beer and a hot woman!

As Eloi struggled to hold on to his dinner he was  most glad of Cinion's rowing skills - the halfling seemed to be rowing with an irregular rhythm in the wavy seas, knowing exactly when to catch each rise and fall of the waters to propel the boat closer to their objective.
Looking to the shore, they saw few people out in the dreadful weather.
"There's little point in going all the way back," Cinion shouted above the wind. "They'll just put the loss down to the storm."
Almost as if to add credence to his words, as they began to dock another rowboat broke loose from its moorings, bumping into theirs and sending Akhan tumbling. It was only his quick reactions that made his landing place the soaking wet stairs to the dockside rather than the even wetter harbour itself.
Without a further word they pulled their cloaks about them and ducked their heads, walking as fast as was possible towards the Golden Anchor for warmth and safety. As they reached the doors of that inn, a man was leaving and, failing to see the trio, crashed right into them, almost sending Cinion to the cobbled street.
"My apo..." the man started, outstretching his hand as though to help steady the halfling. A strange look came over his twisted face, hidden mostly by a hood which he held up with his left hand, and his outstretched hand recoiled and was thrust inside his cloak.
"You!" he exclaimed, as though in recognition of Cinion. "You hideous beast, spawn of the unclean, why do you curse my every step! I want only to rest but you follow me everywhere and I must cleanse your peoples from this Oerth again."
Cinion had never seen the man before in his life, and he felt sure that he would remember one so ugly. Twisted and covered in warts and sores, the man's face hurt to look at, and there was burning hatred in his eyes as he spat his tirade at the halfling.
As he spoke his venom, Cinion looked to the hand thrust inside the stranger's sodden grey cloak. He saw a smal glint of metal, and then that the hand was gripping a short blade, perhaps a long dagger or a shortsword.
The man glanced over to the puzzled Akhan and Eloi, who could only make out half of what he was saying, and could understand practically none of that.
With a worried look the man turned back to Cinion.
"You will have what is yours, half-man," he snarled, starting to walk away. "You can be sure of that!"
As the man stumbled off into the storm, Cinion watched him, relaxing his grip on Mandeg's Carver, then turned to Eloi and Akhan, shrugging as though he had no idea what was going on. He thought perhaps a Wastrian, but remembered they were across the Sea of Gearnat now, and that those folk were not known hereabouts as they were in his homeland.
Suddenly there was an almighty crack as the lightning flashed, striking a ship's mast not half a mile down the dock from them. The mast crashed to the ground, a fire starting along it before being doused instantly by the rains.
"And a pleasant evening to you too!" Cinion barked after the madman.
Akhan's automatic reaction had been to check his pockets as the hooded figure barged past them.  This was hardly the most salubrious area of the docks and he was damned if he was going to get fleeced.  In fact, the thought that it might be some amateurish pickpocket trying it on annoyed him more than the possibility of sheer clumsiness.
Glancing at Cinion, Akhan returned his gaze to the man who was rapidly disappearing in the storm.  There was rather a murderous glint in his eye as his mood was not improving. 
"Want to go chuck him in the harbour, Devion?  Might improve the bastard's manners," he half-shouted over the deafening hiss-roar of rain on cobbles.

I for one am going to get something to eat and clean up," Cinion pronounced as they entered the bar. "If either of you need me, you know where to find me."
"First things first though," thought Eloi as he strolled over to the bar, slapping the fat arse of the nearest serving wench as he walked. He stopped at the bar and spoke to the barkeep "A Ulekian Stout and whatever my companion is having."
Eloi motioned towards Akhan.
As Cinion trudged up to his room, Eloi looked about but could not see Smokelight or Kyros anywhere. He scowled as he thought of the miserable time he'd had and how that smelly mage and the overly-chirpy Olidamarran were probably having the time of their live working out their frustrations on the gorgeous Hannay.
His scowl did not disappear when Akhan asked for a Keoish brandy, and the only comfort he had was that they only served the more common, and cheaper, brown here, although even that was a little too fine for his own coarse tastes.
As they settled at their usual table a small boy, drenched from head to toe, shivering from the cold, came into the inn and went over to the bar. The barman lifted him over the counter and spoke to him in whispered tones. Heading to the end of the bar, the boy in tow, he nodded towards Eloi as he went up towards the rooms where Cinion had his lodgings.
Eloi winked at Akhan and nonchalantly nodded for him to follow.
Akhan took another sip of his brandyand then lolled his head onto his shoulder. 
"More good news?"  he said in a weary voice.  "Let's give them a few seconds then follow them up."
Meantime, he sat up with a groan from the slouch he had adopted and peeled off his sodden cloak.  Sighing, he attempted to wring some of the rainwater from the fabric, muttering all the while about dyes in the embriodery running.

After a good old clerical clean, Cinion had just removed his last golden apple from his sack when there was a knock on his door.
"Its Barad!" a voice said. Cinion quickly recalled that was the barman's name. "Its about mistress Meyrit!"
Cautiously he opened the door and saw the barman standing with a human waif, about his own height, who was absolutely drenched from head to toe and shivering. Cinion bade them in and was about to close the door when Eloi and Akhan appeared in the hallway.
Cinion handed a blanket from his bed to Barad, who covered the shivering boy.
"This is Dyavitz," Barad said. "He stays with Meyrit."
The room was hushed as they all looked to the boy. It was obvious that the cold was not the only thing that made him shiver.
"I been everywhere lookin' fer 'er," he said in a gutter Gradsulian accent. "She ain't come home in two nights, an' none o' the guildmen know where she is. They said she were workin' fer someone as Barad knows, so I came 'ere."
"Meyrit kinda adopted Dyavitz, didn't she son," Barad said, ruffling his sodden hair.
"Got me inta the Tollstratz gang, she did, same as she were," he beamed proudly.
Eloi checked his purse was still there - far too much about this boy, apart from his puny build, reminded him of a young Eloi.
"Ain't nobody in the whole town seen her at all," Dyavitz moaned.
Eloi rubbed his stubbly chin for a few moments in the pretence that he wasdeep in thought "We have done all that we can to find Meyrit. All that we can do now is wait and hope that she turns up."
Eloi checked his purse again and produced a Rittern and tossed it to the boy.
"Get yourself a drink and some food in the bar Dyavitz, you deserve it." He paused, stroking his chin and added, "Come see me tomorrow morning, and we'll see if we can find something for you to do which will let you earn a few more coins."
Eloi looked at Akhan and motioned towards the door, he looked down at the halfling "We, bid you goodnight Devion. Come on Vesic lets return to the festivities downstairs. We should keep a watch for out companions."

Smokelight hung his sopping wet cloak and hat on a peg, ordered a hot brandy, and went to sit by the hearthfire. He waved at Kyros to join him, as he lit a long and curiously carved pipe - the stem was carved with vines and leaves, which intertwined around several bas-relief runic letters.
"Well it looks like the Suel gods and the Bakluni gods are battling it out once again," Smokelight said with a chuckle and a glance upward, referring to the storm. "I just wish they wouldn't do it in the skies over Gradsul, where it's so inconvenient to me!"
A serving wench brought over their hot drinks and they settled down to drip-drying as they awaited their companions' return.
The doors blew open as the storm gusted and the rain that flew in was almost vertical. A loud crunching crash followed by a roll of thunder told them that the lightning had struck again somewhere close. One of the patrons closest to the door got up and barred it shut to keep the weather out.
A few minutes later Akhan and Eloi came in from the back of the inn, from the stairway to the bedrooms where they knew Cinion was staying. 
"Well, it's our gambling partners!" Smokelight said, as he slapped Eloi on theback. "Let me buy you a round of dark beers!"
Akhan lobbed his still-sopping cloak onto one of the empty chair-backs and flopped down on another chair beside it.  Nodding to Smokelight and Kyros he said, "Judging from the looks on your faces you're either allergic to rain or you didn't have much joy in our House of Pleasure." 
He leaned back and waited to hear what, if anything the two had gleaned at Hannay's.
In a lower voice, once he saw that the others in the tavern had turned their attentions elsewhere, Smokelight said, "I'm afraid that my annointed friend and I did not fare so well. We made our way to Red Hannay's, but she was not home, and we thought we would err on the side of caution, and we chose not to break in. I used sorcerous divinations to see if anything was odd, but found nothing -- the only think I ascertained was that the strumpet truly was not at home. The storm blew in, and we thought it would be best to return here to meet up with you, before doing anything else..."
"But tell me - how went it with you at the docks? I see you weren't struck by lightning blasts. Did you find anything at the Shelliak?"
Thumping his elbow down on the table Akhan rested his chin in his handand leaned further over towards Kyros and Smokelight.
"Procan could have shoved one of those fancy thunderbolts up my ass and I still wouldn't have noticed after what we found on that ship." He grinned, forgetting for the moment how angry he was at being wet.
"There were four crates brought here on that ship, yeah? Two have been removed and we have still to locate them - although I know whose house I'd like to have a rummage through. The other crates are still on board and they're filled with gold pieces! You could do anything with that amount of money."
Akhan folded his arms and leant forward even more.  "The whole ship was suffused with some kind of magic though, Dunstin. I haven't a clue what it was for cos it didn't stop us looking around or bring any guards down on us. It was weird really. Every part of the ship was affected."
He shrugged. "Eloi, what's the next move then? I say we need to find the other crates as well as find our mark."
Eloi turned and smacked Akhan on his head. "Call me that again, and I'll fecking have yer other eye out!" he snarled. "My names is Zebediah!"
Akhan sat back and picked his cloak from off the back of the chair.  "I've done all I'm going to do tonight.  Unless you've got other ideas I'm heading back to Halykk's."  He started to don his cloak, waiting briefly to see if there were any other bright ideas.
"One more thing to think about before we go," Kyros said, now back in his guise as Gresten.
He quaffed his drink and proceeded to summarise the current circumstances. "We've got lots of missing things: missing crates, people not at home... you get my point. They must be somewhere. What are they doing? Who are they with? I suggest checking out what's-his-name's place." He looked at Akhan pleadingly, the name of that man they talked about with Halykk, the one whose house they had scoped, had completely slipped his mind.
"I wonder if we should take a look at it now." Kyros mused. "Not necessarily to get in, just to see if there's activity in that place. Since we haven't seen anybody they have to be somewhere."
Kyros stopped himself before he got pedantic and repetitious. It was a habit he had inherited from his teacher back in Nyrond, he sighed to himself.
Eloi was not happy. "It would seem that our nights work has uncovered little. Still our discovery that the crates contain gold is important."
He took a long swig of his drink and wiped his mouth.
"There is little more we can do tonight. We are all cold, wet and tired." Eloi drained his glass. "I suggest that we all get some shut-eye and meet here again tomorrow morning." He looked towards Smokelight. "Dunstin, it is late we should return to our lodgings. We bid you goodnight, gentlemen."
Eloi stood and left the inn returning to his lodgings. He settled in his room for the evening and was soon dreaming that recurring dream. The one with the two female orc mudwrestlers.

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