Black Hart

Gradsul by Twilight

Chapter 12 - Under a Cloud

Eloi laughed at Halykk's response.
"Come on Halykk, I have spent my entire life avoiding Mareschals. I hardly think that with my reputation or pedigree that they would want me for anything other than 'anging."
He passed other his cup for another tot of whisky. "However, I understand your doubts. I would say the same if the tables were turned. But trust is a double edged sword - if I told you the whole truth could I be sure that you would not betray us to Gelder's? Therefore you understand my dilemma."
Eloi was thinking on his feet here and his head was starting to hurt - or perhaps it was the tot or two of whisky.
"It is perhaps better that we finish here. I would keep you as an ally and your non-intervention would be valued. All I ask is that if you hear of anything that may be of assistance then please let us know."
Eloi drained his glass. "I thank you for your hospitality. No doubt we shall see each other again before this matter is finished."
Halykk smiled.
"Certainly Zeb," Halykk said, rising to his feet. "And you and Dunstin be sure ter drop by some eve once yer task's complete. Perhaps then wer can get some real business goin', if yer know what I mean."
He pointed the decanter their way, as if to emphasise the amount of drinking they would have to do of such an eve, then showed them to the door.
"And if any appropriate news a-comes my way, I'll let Vesic know fer sure," he said, winking to them. "Nice meetin' yer Dunstin."
Eloi motioned to Smokelight and they made their leave As Smokelight got up and headed for the door he saluted Halykk in farewell. "Nice to make your acquaintance. Thanks for the spirits!"
They made their way down the rickety, and slightly more worrying for all the drink they had consumed, stairs, out into the blinding sunlight. As they got their bearings, someone was coming towards them, someone short - both men had to squint to identify  young Dyavitz who turned abruptly and gestured them into the shelter of a nearby doorway.
"I been looking fer yer," he said. He seemed somewhat out of breath, and had obviously been running for some time. "But I see yer heard - how'd yer know to come here?"
Both men looked at him in a clueless fashion.
"Better start from the beginning, boy," Smokelight said. "We don't know what you're talking about."
"The boat!" Dyavitz said emphatically. "They took the crates off it - I couldn't find any of yers anywhere. By the time I got back they'd unloaded it - last I saw there were folks on the boat, but I thought I'd best follow the crates fer yer."
The boy pointed his hand towards Halykk's warehouse, hiding his action as best he could.
"The cartmen took them in there!" he said in hushed tones. "Yelleb's back at the docks watchin' the boat an' the men."
"Great hopping hells," Smokelight whispered, swaying slightly. "I think we really screwed up, Zeb."

The walk over to Gelder's house did them both good - the day had turned out well and it was hot but bearable. It seemed somehow smaller than they both remembered, but still large enough to be worth a few Merkke.
As they approached there was no carriage outside the house as before. There were no signs from within.
The celebrations had lightened Akhan's mood and he stared around at the surrounding warehouses and Gelder's House, no doubt full of interesting things to steal. He was anxious not to be seen hanging around right in front of the residence, so he continued their stroll, slowly and leisurely as a prosperous merchant would. Or so he told himself.
Quietly to Kyros he muttered, "I want to have a good look at the layout of the alleys and streets here. If I ever do have to make a quick exit from this place it'll be more than useful to know which direction to run."
They proceeded to wander thedistrict, making a show of examining the warehouses and occasionally stopping a warehouseman to ask after the possibility of rental of space for his stock, and where they would find the Factor in charge of such matters. All good cover story details Akhan thought warmly.
"Didn't Eloi and Smokelight say they were meeting us here after Halykk's?" Kyros tried to recall as he took Akhan's lead around the streets.
"Our Illustrious Peer didn't bother to confirm any sort of arrangement," Akhan replied, rolling his eye heavenward and snorting. "About all he did say was that they were going to poke their noses in on Hallyk who, by the way, he hasn't explained his relationship with properly."
"Recommendation from Kro my ass," he muttered in an aside to no one in particular. "Then they were going to find an alchemist to have a look at the coin. Quite what they were going to do after that I don't know. All I can guess is that he might remember that I said we'd head back to the Anchor for lunch."
He squinted up into the sky to try and judge the time. "I forgot to pay attention for the bells. Did you happen to hear what hour they rang?"
Kyros shook his head.
"Looks like nobody's in." Kyros said as they passed Gelder's home again. "And no one at Red Hannay's. And no one at the Shelliak. I'm missing something here. We need to keep watch at these places. Hope the young street punks are doing what Eloi paid them to do."
"Zeb's little molly boys are no doubt swilling down the money he handed out." Akhan sighed.
As they moved from street to street Akhan quizzed Kyros on his past.
"So how did you come to enter Olidamarra's service then?"
"I got tired of wasting my life away in ale houses. And there was this most beautiful priestess of Olidammara." Kyros shot a penetrating glance at Akhan. "It's true," he grinned, "she was most persuasive in her calling."
Smiling appreciatively at Kyros, he commiserated with the cleric. "Olidamarra's such a demanding Master!"
"And you Akhan? Always been a Keolander? Mom and dad had a beautiful inter-racial relationship? Or something more tragic than that?" Kyros could not help the cynicism in his voice. He knew by experience that half-elves rarely gained acceptance in elven societies, though they adapted well to human ones.
Akhan was about to reply with something sarcastic about his past, mostly out of habit. He stopped with a quip half-formed and remained silent for a moment or two. He might have only known the man for a few days but habitual suspicion could be tiring in its own way sometimes, even though it had saved his life many a time. Akhan disliked questions about his family but telling the Olidamarran could hardly do him any harm and might just build some sort of trust with him.
After all, Eloi was not what Akhan regarded as at all trustworthy - his evasions and forgetfulness did not inspire confidence. If a real shitstorm did develop in Gradsul, a little bit of friendship might be more valuable insurance for his skin than the simple bond of membership of Thoggin's unlikely idea of a counter-espionage team.
He looked with uncertainty at the priest for a moment.
"Mmm, no I've lived in plenty of places in the Flanaess. Tringlee's home to me now. But my family came from Nyrond originally. My mother was of the Olve, but young as they judge themselves." He unfastened his cloak in the heat and slung it over his arm. "She knew nothing of humans when she met my father. His first wife had just died and I think his grief captured my mother's heart."
Akhan shrugged. "Who knows, she was captivated for a while I think by the intensity of the human world but in the end my father changed. His path turned to more wordly concerns."
His lip curled.
"Fool, he never knew how rich he was, though he would claim tobe able to tell you to the nearest copper shaving. She left." Akhan said no more. In fact he had surprised himself by how much he had said.
"Well, we can head back to the Anchor once we're done here, which is pretty soon anyway." Kyros' stomach hardly grumbled, he was used to eating very little, but when the pangs did strike...
He had been thrown off by the frankness of Akhan's words. He hadn't expected the half-elf to respond with a personal revelation and almost instantly regretted his flippant tongue earlier. After all, he himself had been brief in response to Akhan's honest question about his past. And still, between Eloi and Smokelight, Kyros felt most comfortable with the half-elf. Maybe because they had a couple of days in the boat to Gradsul, maybe because intuitively Kyros understood the extravagance, the foppishness, the stylish humour as a natural defence against the predations of this Oerth, and maybe because Kyros felt much the same way too most of the time.
Kyros looked at Akhan again in a new light, searching his eyes for a moment, deciding, hesitating, and then, in a expulsion of bated breath, "We all have...secrets. Private lives."
Kyros wondered how to go on. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
He paused - that was much he could say about his own life, and much he was unable to say. But the half-elf had started, and Kyros was sure as hell going to reciprocate in turn.
"I'm from Nyrond as well, at least for the last ten years or so. It was there that I became a Olidammaran cleric. I love the place. Rel Mord. It's truly home. Many friends, loved ones." He thought of a certain priestess. "But, I cannot return. I have…enemies. My life would be forfeit."
He gave Akhan one hard look, then untensed his gritted teeth. Things had changed in the last few days. Kyros had jumped out of his skin the last time Akhan mentioned Rel Mord. But now? Now, Kyros hoped, the half-elf, for all his amoral preferences, did not appear likely to betray his trust.
Akhan listened seriously to Kyros. His curiosity was really piqued now, but he could see the effort it had cost the Olidamarran to reveal this much.
"Enemies aren't immortal though, heh?" he replied, smiling sympathetically. He was pleased the man had responded in kind. He'd have felt damn foolish otherwise. The chance to let his guard down a little was very satisfying just now. The constant bickering with Eloi was all very entertaining but the Baron offered little in the way of comradely banter. Eloi was always seeking to draw blood with his remarks.
"Not that you're such an angel yourself," Akhan thought ruefully of himself. "Where's the difference between you and Eloi?"
Realising they'd come to a halt in the street he continued with their stroll. Seeking to lighten both their moods he said, "Let's stop off at that wine merchant we passed on the way here. I'm tired of the Anchor's piss-poor line in grapewater. I'm for washing lunch down with something doesn't make my palate feel like it's been gargling harbour water."
As they stood talking, with a warehouse just blocking the view of them from Gelders' house, Akhan noticed movement from within a recessed doorway across from Gelders' front door.
He nodded towards it, and Kyros turned his head to see the small boy sitting within, legs crossed, playing a game with a handful of pebbles where he threw some into the air and tried to scoop others up before the thrown lot fell, then deftly catching the thrown ones again. Akhan fondly remembered his father teaching him to play a similar game with small wooden jacks, but he had soon bored of it, and invented another where he dropped them and used it as cover to look up ladies' skirts.
He involuntarily put his hand to his left ear, unfondly recalling the day his nursemaid had caught him 'in flagrante delicto' as Professor Haddoyung would have said. He had always felt his left ear had been slightly less pointed than his right ever since that day.
The boy smiled as they looked over - it was one of Eloi's waifs. He got up to his feet and nonchalantly wandered over to them.
"Dyavitz been lookin' fur yers," the boy said, acting as though he were begging money off the men, tugging on Kyros' sleeve in an infinitely annoying manner. "Mens been to the ship - ther takin' the crates off, we couldn't find yers."
Akhan and Kyros looked at each other in astonishment.
"Where's Dayvitz now? Still watching them by the ship? Did he say whether the men were still there, or where they were taking the crates?" Kyros watched the boy's eyes bulge at his quickfire questions, and almost pop out their sockets as he flipped him a Merkke.
"If they're still unloading then we're wasting time here." Kyros made to go quickly with a nod to Akhan. "Boy, continue your watch here, let us know if anyone comes here."
Akhan moved off quickly with Kyros, keeping his pace brisk but not too urgent to attract attention. He slung his cloak over his shoulder and said, "Maybe we'll get to see where these things are going now."

With the heat, alcohol and their lack of recent activity both men were sweating like armoured knights in a blacksmith's furnace by the time they made it back to the docks.
As they got to the Shelliak they slowed down and began looking for some sign of activity. The boat seemed, to Akhan's eye to be listing slightly to one side, but there was no sign of activity on or nearby it.
They looked about and saw a small boy near to it playing with a wooden circular object on a string, making it go back and forth. They took a chance and presumed he was Dyavitz's companion.
"Oh yeah, Mister. They took da two crates off, left about ten minutes ago. Couldn't say for sure that they wuz all off ther boat, though. Dyavitz ran about like ther headless chicken tryin' ter find yes all. In ther end he followed the carts. Cartmen's Guild they were, official-like - must av' bin goin' to one of ther warehouses."
As the boy talked, Akhan looked again at the boat - the rear hatch doors that they had failed to go through the previous night caught his attention. One of them was partly open.
Akhan did a quick shufty up and down the docks attempting to spot any suspicious characters. "Watch out for anybody taking an interest," Akhan murmured significantly to the boy and wandered over to the doors. He wanted a look in this boat and if there was no-one around then this could be his chance. The familiar tightening in the pit of his stomach at the prospect of a little larceny cheered him up and he grinned cheesily at Kyros.
Another Merkke came out of Kyros' pocket for the lad. "Let us know immediately when Dyavitz finds out where they've taken the crates."
Seeing that Akhan was already shuffling his feet in anticipation of scoping the ship, especially the opened doors, Kyros pulled the boy to a secluded corner swiftly,
"How do the Cartmen's Guild members look like? How do they dress? Describe one of them."
The boy looked at Kyros as though he were mad not to know what the Cartmen looked like - he lifted a hand and pointed towards the docks.
"Like ther," the boy said, pointing to groups of men loading and unloading the goods from the ships onto carts, and driving the laden and unladen carts about the docks. There was no uniform, but Kyros got the idea quickly. Once again, thanks to his trusty hat of disguise, he assumed the guise of a guildmember before proceeding to the ship.

Akhan peered inside the boat's galley, pausing for a moment to best make out the mixture of light and dark within. Within a few seconds his single eye was seeing as best he could hope, and that was very poorly.
It was a short galley, perhaps twenty feet long at best, and at most eight feet wide. To the left he could see a single bed platform, without any sheets or blankets thereon, and to the right what seemed to be the cooking area of the galley. At the far end, there appeared to be a bureau of some sort with a chair before it, and some papers lying on the desk of the open bureau.
There did not seem to be anyone within, and there were few obvious places where anyone could hide.
"Looks empty to me," Akhan whispered back to Kyros.
"Okay," Kyros said, looking to Akhan, with an urgent tone of voice. "Let's make this quick. Search."
He nodded to the desk, figuring that a thief like Akhan would do best at the drawers and the bureau. He himself rifled through the open papers for anything of interest, and then a quick scan around the bed and under it, and the cooking area, all the while with one eye at the entrance to the ship.
They quickly scoured the galley, opening all the unlocked drawers, looking over the papers, which were in a strange language, and probably coded at that. They had the feeling, however, that this place had already been ransacked for the more important belongings, as many essentials for living had been removed.
Akhan was annoyed at coming up empty.  He crumpled his last handful of paper and threw it back into it's drawer in disgust.  Then, jumping up to leave, noticed the two large barrels by the stove. One was open, and appeared to hold water. The other, lid firmly closed, smelled strongly of oil.
"Never leave a stone unturned," he muttered.  He reached back down and grabbed a sheet of paper.  He peered into the barrel, looking for a glint of anything.  Then he dipped the paper into the water, just to make sure that's all it was.  He looked at Kyros. "I wanna dump this thing, then we'll go."
With a single heave, Akhan turned the water barrel over, spilling its contents onto the floor. Kyros, quickly stepping onto the raised sleeping platform, was glad for the warning as the water slooshed about the floor. Akhan looked into the barrel again, then rattled his arm about inside in case there was anything invisible within, but it was empty. The wooden floor under that barrel appeared unremarkable too.
As he crouched there, the oil barrel caught his attention again, and he began to wonder as to its purpose. The stove seemed to be wood-burning, and as it seemed a one-man ship, that amount of oil would last a year for lighting purposes.
"Why the hell would someone keep that much oil on board for a stupid stove?"  Akhan was getting more nervous about being discovered, especially having overturned the barrel and soaking the floor.
"Damn Cuthbert!  The stove..." He glanced at Kyros as he dashed over to the stove, "Can you take a peek outside and make sure we're still clear?  And make sure our little urchin is still on the watch. I know I said we'd go, but I lied..."
Akhan made sure the stove was cool, then looked under, behind, over the stove, opened it up completely, including lifting the burner covers, and in general had Kyros wondering if he was searching it or trying to memorise its design.

Smokelight was puffing slightly (and not at his pipe but from the quick pace Eloi was setting on their return to the docks). He noticed his 'leader' glancing back often, searching for an unseen pursuer, and thought to tag him 'Baron von Paranoia' for fun, before realising that in all probability 'they' were out to get them!
They soon reached the main docks, which were busy, but not so busy as the previous days - even amongst the dockworkers and cartmen there were some devout worshippers. And the rest were probably drunk at some Olidamarran service somewhere!
Getting their bearings, Eloi soon picked out the Shelliak nestled in amongst other boats of the same type and size. As they approached it, the pier about it was reasonably quiet but nobody seemd interested in their actions.
The duo stopped a reasonable distance off the Shelliak - after a moment, Eloi picked out a boy with a wooden object on a piece of string, sitting playing near to the boat beside some lobster creels. He didn't seem to be doing anything in particular, other than flicking his toy which, with a strange movement seemed always to return to him.
Then his jaw dropped.
"The doors are open," he said in a hushed whisper.
Smokelight peered at the boat, and as Eloi had noticed, the rear hatches, probably leading to the galley and sleeping quarters, were open. Eloi strained, but the sunlight made it difficult.
Moving closer, the pair could see movement within the boat, and there were occasional faint clunking noises from there.
Eloi looked at Smokelight with a stern look on his face. "What do you think? It is perhaps time for us to take firm action. Perhaps we should challenge the man on the boat?"
He started to walk other to the young boy keeping one eye on the Shelliak.
"Or should we perhaps find the others?"
Before Smokelight could answer, Eloi seemed to freeze, his eyes locked on the boat as though he had seen something. Smokelight looked and could only see a dark figure dart back inside the galley.

A few intense minutes later, covered in soot from head to toe, Akhan looked up dismally.
"Nothing," he declared glumly.
Both men looked thoughtfully round at the oil barrel.
"Well, damn, look at me!"  He looked over at Kyros, not wanting to admit that his greed got the better of him.  "Alright, lets examine the oil barrel and get out of here."
Kyros opened the lid of the oil barrel gingerly - he wasn't going to overturn this barrel as well, what with the stove nearby, and contemplated casting one of his divination spells. The lid came off easily, and looking inside Kyros saw it was almost full to the brim with oil - the kind you would use to fill a lantern or suchlike. Whatever it had been used for very little, if any, seemed to have been removed from the barrel.
"What the..?" Kyros exclaimed, seeming more annoyed than anything on discovering that it was merely oil, although it was obvious from the smell even before opening the barrel. He peered carefully in and, heading off any potential thought from Akhan regarding tipping the barrel again said, "Close your eyes."
He quickly said a magical prayer, and so far as he knew the light he commanded had appeared at  the bottom of the barrel - however he saw nothing, probably as the oil in-between blocked out  the light. Staring into the barrel he could see nothing to suggest that this wasn't merely a barrel of oil.
"Let's put this ship in order before we go, starting with the water barrel." Kyros figured he couldn't dry the wooden deck, but he could fill the water barrel with another simple spell. He glanced around at Akhan, who had begun tidying the room, starting with a particularly soggy, crumpled piece of paper which looked like nothing so much as a piece of blotting paper now. He noticed that the water had begun to drain from the floor, via small gutters leading through the walls.
"Nothing in the oil. Let's get out of here. I've got a few theories about oil and water." Kyros cast a spell to fill the empty barrel with water again, and searched his heart and mind for one which would tidy up the place as well. "Any important papers to grab and run? More important would be to find out where the crates have been taken to. We've got to pick up the trail from Dayvitz."
Akhan closed his eyes.
"Dammit," he muttered, "I know we're missing something here..."
Akhan righted the water barrel and started to restore the stove and the other papers.
"Well, Kyros, can you cast a spell of Laundering?  I'm gonna have to go back and clean up..."
"Well, yes and no," the priest replied with a smirk on his face that almost rivalled one of Akhan's grins. "See, I should be able to clean you up, but for some reason it's not working. It seems the Laughing Rogue is having a good old roguish laugh at your expense my friend."
Akhan could do naught but raise an eyebrow in reply.
"Sorry!" Kyros said, trying hard to stifle a giggle at Akhan's new disguise as an overgrown chimney-sweep.
Akhan refrained himself from running his pal through on a spit, scouring the papers once more.
"It's looks like it's in code...  Let me see..."
Akhan looked over the coded papers, hoping he hadn't, in his rush for goodies, soaked the manifest for the crates they were hunting. He tried to make out any patterns in the coding, but soon came ot the conclusion that they were not in code, merely a strange language he had never seen before.
He looked up, finally giving in to the fact that he could not decipher them.
"I want to get somewhere to change out of these sooty rags before we're spotted. They'll think I'm burgling through chimneys, as though I'd stoop so low..."
Akhan peeked outside, and immediately ducked back in.
"There are two dodgy looking characters out on the pier - one's a smelly drunk half-orc, the other...well, he's just a smelly drunk. Should we invite them in for oil and water?" Akhan asked mischievously.
"Ah, very suspicious indeed." Kyros winked and nodded at his now vagabond-looking companion. Then, more seriously, "Maybe we can pick up the trail of the crates if we look for the boys. Let's go."
As Kyros made for the door.Akhan made to follow, paused to make a feeble attempt at dusting himself off, and left behind a cloud of soot as he walked to the doors behind Kyros.
"I can't believe I'm going in public like this," he muttered.  "If Eloi makes one smart remark, I'm gonna take a contract out on him..."

Smokelight whispered to Eloi, "I could just stink the place up. That would probably encourage anyone in the Shelliak to come outside of their own free will."
Eloi smiled. "At fecking last! A mage who's not scared to cast a spell. It looked to me like a Drow, Smokelight. At least if there is more than two of them we'll get a chance to run. Hold off until we know exactly who is in there."
He turned to the boy. "Are you a friend of Dayvitz?"
The boy nodded to Eloi.
"Good, how many folk are in that boat, boy?" he asked.
"Two of 'em, sir," he said. "A priest who changed into like one of 'em cartmen, and an olf with one eye."
"Its alright," Eloi said, smiling. As he turned to Smokelight the smile turning into a look of horror as he realised what the mage was doing.
"Noo..." he started to yell, as the mage threw what looked like an old rotten egg to the ground.
Smokelight looked at him strangely.
"I thought you said alright!" he questioned.
Eloi slapped his hand to his forehead in disbelief, and both men watched as a horrible green gas began wisping out of the boat's galley hatches, the sounds of coughing and wretching coming from within.

As Adar Pelegrin had wandered down the docks, he had to stop suddenly as the half-orc and half-tramp he had been watching earlier half-ran out of a nearby street. They had scanned the docks about them, before the half-orc motioned towards a pier occupied by smaller yachts. Both men moved off towards them.
He watched for a minute, from a vacant doorway, and saw them approach one boat in particular, a single-masted yacht. They stood in front of it, and appeared to be discussing something in whispers, although he would not have heard their bellows at this distance. He also noticed a small boy nearby, playing with a yo-yo, who seemed to be paying some attention to them.
As Adar watched, the half-orc started talking to the boy, and the tramp began making motions to cast a spell. The half-orc seemed surprised by this, and tried to stop him, but to no avail. Both men then watched, apparently in horror, as a horrendous green gas began to float out of the boat's living quarters, but at this range Adar could not tell if anything was happening within.
Suddenly, he noticed another interested party nearby. About halfway between himself and the half-orc he saw a man, hiding between some barrels by the quayside, apparently watching the debacle. Adar could only see his back and, despite the day being fine and sunny, he had the hood of his grey cloak pulled up over his head.

Akhan made to follow, pausing to feebly dust himself off. He coughed slightly at the cloud of soot, and Kyros too began to laugh until he also started to cough - then choke.
Both men would have looked at each other in disbelief, but the tears were streaming out of their eyes, and they could hardly see anything but the nauseous green cloud that was billowing up from nowhere.
Kyros blinked the tears from his eyes - the gas was annoying, but seemed to have little affect on him. Akhan, on the other hand, was wretching his breakfast onto the galley floor.
As he puked and heaved, the effects of the gas gave Akhan a horrendous flashback! He could not help but feel the same sense of foreboding as when he had been 'Cloudkilled' by Mordekei on the Caisteallweg the previous year - and considering that Smokelight was standing outside the galley door, he felt sure that history was repeating itself.
"It's the cloud!" Kyros wasn't very coherent, but he didn't have to be anyway. He had seen on occasion from his ex-mage friends this sort of poison cloud spell, not deadly, but painful. "Someone's a wizard around here!" He hissed to himself, and immediately held his breath, "or some trap!"
Since the cloud seemed to fill the ship's interior room, he figured it would be only a matter of time before it began to affect him as well.
"C'mon you stupid elf," Kyros grabbed Akhan by the back and shoved him towards to door through which they had entered, regardless of his condition, literally barrelling him forwards, one hand on his waistband, the other still on his staff. Already the words of the prayer to neutralise his friend's poison were on his lips, and Kyros grimly prepared for the certain enemies that might be just outside the door.
"If it's a trap, we're walking right into it", Kyros thought as the two of them exited. "They're flushing us out like a couple of rats."

"By the Tangled Skeins of Istus!" Smokelight thought with a curse. "It's almost as if Fate herself led me into this blunder!"
Smokelight's face scrunched up in sympathetic agony -- the Stinking Cloud was a quite unpleasant ordeal, although not permanently harmful. Smokelight lumbered over to the Shelliak, ready to help Akhan and Kyros when they emerged from the cloud.
"That'll teach me to leap before I look," he said, quite abashed at what he'd done. "Sorry, Zeb," he said to Eloi. "I've been expecting the worst for the past few hours. My nerves got the better of me."
Eloi looked somewhat sarcastically at Smokelight "Well, it wouldn't be the first time that a Mage in our party cast a spell to the peril of the group."
He looked towards the Shelliak, a big grin across his face. Akhan was going to be mighty pissed off when he managed to get free from the ship. Not forgeting their situation Eloi took a swift look around him, looking speifically for anyone taking more than a passing interest to their business.
As they walked quickly over to the boat, Kyros burst out from the galley dragging a sickly-looking Akhan with him - at least Akhan might have appeared sickly if they could have seen his greenish-yellow skin below the layer of soot that covered him from head  to toe.
Kyros did not seem too bad, and helped Akhan to the side of the boat, where he was emptying his breakfast into the harbour waters. He looked up as they approached. Behind him the greenish gas of Smokelight's Stinking Cloud belched out from within the boat's galley.
Smokelight looked physically pained as he watched Akhan being sick.
"I'm truly sorry, boys, that was my fault," Smokelight said sheepishly. "I 'jumped the gun' as Murlynd would say... But tell me - why did one of you duck back into the boat so quickly, while we were approaching? I thought you were one of our... adversaries... trying to retreat into the boat. That's why I cast the spell."
"Aaargh," Kyros glared at Smokelight, and unceremoniously dumped Akhan in front of the half-orc and the wizard. He contemplated casting the neutralisation spell, but decided that the half-elf had already given up most of his breakfast anyway, and decided to leave him be. A couple of rounds at the inn would make up to him later.
Akhan pounded his fist on the floor with the latest wave of nausea.  He was obviously really angry.  He made an effort to turn around and relieve the rest of his sickness on Smokelight's shoes.
Then he doubled over and heaved again.
Not that Kyros was really upset. He was more relieved that it didn't turn out to be a fight after all, and against some wizard at that. It wasn't the first time his enthusiasm for disguise backfired on him, Smokelight must have mistaken him for some adversary.
"Ok, time to compare notes. But first, you have to know that one of the boys said they've moved the crates. I think lunch takes a low priority here."
Akhan croaked in agreement between bouts of coughing and vomiting. "Yeah, lunch I don't think we'll need lunch!"
"Any new developments on where the crates have gone to? Can we pick up the trail?" Kyros tried his best to herd everyone anyway from the ship.
"Give me a minute!" Akhan wheezed.  His eyes were red and watering, making a streak-smeared mess of his already dirty face.
Eloi looked forlorn.
"Well yes, we know where ther other crates have been taken - Halykk's warehouse. They must have arrived as we were talking to him. Unfortunately, I trusted my friend Kro's reliability and may have told Halykk more than he needs to know."
He shrugged. "I asked him for his help in finding out what Gelders knows and who he has been seen liaising with. I tried to be as secretive as I could and only told him that Gelders had fallen in with a bad crowd - that is, Vellip O'Shad."
He looked pained. "So, if Halykk is involved, he knows we know and we now have to act fast to salvage something from this. Perhaps we can use this our advantage. I am open to suggestions on how to proceed, but I think it would be prudent to keep a close eye on Halykk's diary for the rest of the day. If he is involved he will be keen to report."
"Aaargh!" Kyros had cause to choke for the second time on hearing that the crates were transported to Halykk's place, even without the stinking gas. They were bunglers, that they were. Still, the situation remained tenable, except for the loss of cover.
"Eloi, I assume the boys will still be stationed at their various lookouts." Kyros remained thoughtful for a moment, then pointed out, "Bear in mind that Halykk has yet to see my real appearance. He thinks there are three of us and one manservant. I'm the last covert man we've got. It might just be strategic if only the three of you were seen together, say when going from place to place, and I follow some way behind. An earlier team of mine used this to good effect, especially in towns and cities. A backup man as it were. To communicate with me simply leave notes behind I subsequently pick up."
Kyros looked at them and figured that two roguish characters and a seedy mage would have no problem with a plan such as this.
Smokelight shrugged. "I have no problem with this plan."
Eloi laughed. "Yes, that would be in line with my Baronial title. I like the thought of you walking two steps behind me Kyros. However, I would be too scared that you might stick a dagger in my back."
He pointed at Smokelight and Akhan "You two might take a lesson from this man's books. You should also walk behind me."
Eloi stopped laughing. "However, Kyros is right. He is the only one of our party that Halykk does not know. We can use that to our advantage. We shall let the boys keep an eye on Halykk. They will report anything they might find. We have other fish to fry. I suggest we go and check out Gelder's warehouse. If the crates have from the ship have been moved to Halykk's then maybe there are plans to move the crates at Gelder's."
They heard a noise from behind, and turned to see that the green gas pouring out of the boat was catching the attention of quite a few people on the main dock. A veritable crowd was gathering to watch. Eloi noticed the harbourmaster to whom they had spoken the previous day coming out of his wooden hut 'office' for a better look.
Smokelight loudly cleared the phlegm in the back of his throat and spit, and then rolled his eyes at Eloi's suggestion. "Sure, Baron, whatever you say... what a court we would make!" The old wizard guffawed, rather loudly, which ended in a series of hacking coughs.
"I'd better cut back on the pipeweed!" he muttered.
Kyros ignored Eloi's delusions of grandeur. He wondered how long Eloi has had the title of Baron, and whether he knew how to make full use of the typical weight barons have. Back where he came from the nobility were notorious for lavish excesses and demanding taxes. "Maybe I should switch occupations - pretending to be Vesic's manservant isn't nearly as rewarding as being on a Baron's staff."
"I also think it would be a good idea if we could delay our friend, Vellip O'Shad's departure from Gradsul," Smokelight added. Now that the crates are unloaded he may soon leave. Perhaps it is time to put Akhan's sinking plan into action?"
"Keep moving gentlemen, the harbour master's getting curious," Kyros said as he continued to herd everyone away from the attention-getting ship.

"As Istus would have it" Adar thought silently, with a frown.
Before contacting Eloi, Adar had hoped for two things; First was an inability to find out anything about Eloi's group through inquiry, which at least so far, seemed to be the case. The second would be an inability to figure out the details of Eloi's plans through mere investigation and observation. Adar figured that if he couldn't gleen details knowing the general objective, then very few people would be able to. Which was good - at least up until this point.
Green clouds of gas tended to draw attention, and Adar was certain that this other party hidden amongst the barrels was up to no good. Perhaps an observer for another party. Adar weighed his choices and, although tempted, decided not to intervene yet - he would let this grey cloaked observer reveal his hand a bit more. Yes - this could prove most useful, especially if this figure could be apprehended!
As he continued to watch, two figures burst out from the boat's galley onto the deck aft of the entrance, one of them immediately leaning over the side and starting to puke for Keoland. As he watched, the half-orc duo walked quickly towards this other duo. It did not take him too long to realise that the other two matched the descriptions of the rest of Eloi's team, and he could only ponder as to why they had gassed their own team.
His attention was drawn back to the grey-clad man by the subdued shouting he was doing.
"No, no, no," he yelled, then muffling his complaint as he realised others nearby were watching him.
To Adar the man resembled nothing so much as a child having a temper-tantrum as he threw his arms about, stomping his feet and spinning around. The hood fell, and as he span Adar saw his face. It was gnarled and red, as though from some sort of burn or scalding, and covered in warts and sores. His eyes were black and fixed in rage as he threw a subdued fit, obviously trying to control  his anger due to the people nearby.
"He must be there! He must!" the man hissed to himself loudly, suppressing a shout.
He pulled a cheap shortsword from a hidden scabbard, and Adar could see crude designs scratched  into the rusty blade.
"Where is he then you foolish loser?" the man yelled, his voice being higher this time, but somehow more authoritative. "Get the halfman filth and rip his heart out!"
The man pulled the shortsword under his cloak, as though to smother the loudness of his words. Many people nearby were half-watching his charade, but nobody seemed to be too bothered by him. He turned to leave, casting furtive glances as he did so, moving closer to Adar, who could hear his whispers more clearly.
"I will, I will," he hissed into his cloak. "I just need more time..."
The man started off quickly walking away down the crowded docks to the east. Adar could still clearly see him as he went, for the docks were not as busy as usual, being Godsday.
Looking back momentarily to the others, he could see them still milling about the boat.
Sometimes Adar wished his hearing wasn't quite so keen, for now he was at least partially confused as well as intrigued. One half of the team had gassed the other half for no apparent reason, all the while being observed by an apparent madman who talked to himself. He figured he'd leave the team to resolve their dispute amongst themselves; having been on the wrong end of something like that far too many times than he'd have liked, Adar knew the potential conflict that might arise.
Better, he thought, to go take a walk after this grey figure, and see, or hear, where he goes and anything else interesting he might say....

"I haven't heard this plan to sink the ship yet," Kyros stated, "but if we're doing so I have one main idea. Let's sink it slowly. Bore a hole or two on the underside, let it seem as if it's leaking itself through. Then mess up the rudder - jam the hinge, wreck the edges, or work some magic. Whatever. I assume we intend to do things tonight?"
"Also, if the money is intended to pay off somebody, or to circulate as counterfeit, wouldn't it be terribly upsetting if it were lost? Or stolen? Somebody would be in hot soup were that to happen. Our friend Halykk might find himself in a lot of trouble were the gold lost under his care." Kyros pointed out with a gleam in his eyes. "I have a good mind to do that. Don't forget that Vesic and his manservant are still guests in Halykk's place. Halykk might not want to confront us yet. At least not directly. It's dangerous, but we could raid the crates as well. Better than breaking and entering."
"Eloi, Smokelight, one last thing. In the ship were two barrels, one full of water, the other of oil. Any ideas why? It puzzles me."
As Kyros spoke, Eloi looked over at the boat, considering how to scuttle it. It was only then that he noticed the ship was actually leaning to one side.
"Don't know," Smokelight muttered. "Most ships carry extra amounts of drinking water, don't they? And as far as the oil, it is pretty standard merchandise."
Eloi thought for a few moments. "Look, the boat is listing to one side. You two didn't scuttle it by accident when you were onboard did you? With regards to the barrels I have no idea what the could be used for. Smokelight? Any ideas?"
"I think we should scuttle the ship tonight and then steal the crates from Gelder's warehouse. We do not know Halykk's true motives and he is bound to be on guard if he knows we are sniffing around."
"I've a strange feeling we should take another closer look at that oil barrel Akhan and I saw," Kyros said. "Maybe there might be something inside after all. How about another quick zip in just for the barrel? I don't know how to search the barrel without messing up the rest of the ship though. Maybe Smokelight can cast some divination spell."
Contrary to his previous actions, Kyros made to dart back into the galley before Eloi grabbed him by the scruff of the neck.
"Hold on there!" He motioned towards the everygrowing crowd. "We do not want to attract undue attention to ourselves."
"I'd have to agree with Zeb," Smokelight said, nodding to Eloi. "What are you thinking could be in the oil barrel?" Smokelight asked Kyros.
"I agree we should get out of here first." Kyros had looked at the crowd himself and was all for melting into the shadows. Having thought that, however, he couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that there was something in the oil barrel.
"Akhan tipped over the barrel of water. Nothing inside. There was an oil barrel, could have been used to hide something. I don't know. We didn't tip that over, for obvious reasons. Maybe we can check on it later."
"We could, but we also could set it alight. That would stop O'Shad leaving in a hurry." Eloi cackled with a sly grin on his face.
"We have decisions to make gentlemen. I suggest we return to the Inn until things settle down and make our plans for this evening."
He turned to the boy and tossed him a pfennig. "Stay here and keep an eye on things. Anyone goes near that boat out of anything other than idle curiousity come and get us at the Inn."

Following the madman proved reasonably easy. He managed to keep a very safe distance, although he did notice the man turning about from time to time. He did not, however, seem to react to Adar, and obviously was just paranoid in addition to his split personality.
The streets grew less crowded as they moved away from the docks, into the Orgsworth 'warehouse' district. They passed briefly through the richer Gartten district, and then into the poorer Barndanhel district. From his dress, and what little he knew of Gradsul, Adar got the feeling that the man lived there.
Sure enough, a few minutes later Adar had to turn about on his feet as the man stood fumbling with a large key at a door after turning down a blind alley. He chastised himself for not taking more care, and was thankful that his mark was also a cretin. He waited at the corner of the street, then heard a loud thump and the sound of a door being locked. A quick peek around the corner showed that he had indeed gone inside.
Adar glanced over at the mid-terraced abode the man had entered. The building was decrepit, almost falling down, and looked so unhealthy it almost made him want to cough. The door was almost paper thin, and he reckoned the lock on it was merely ornamental, as a swift kick would likely have seen the kicker's foot stuck through the door. There was one window, firmly shuttered but looking equal to the door in terms of security.
All in all he reckoned there must only by one room to this hovel, probably about 20' square. There was no-one else within the alley, apart from a young boy, about four years old, playing with small glass marbles at the dead-end side. He didn't seem to have noticed either man.
Holding Krakenshroud before him, Adar thought of a benevolent priest of Pelor he had once met, and in an instant the longsord's magic had changed his appearance to match it. he then walked over to the young boy, offering a silver Rittern for him to buy some marbles.
The boy's eyes lit up at the sight of the silver Rittern. He quickly snatched it from Adar's hand.
He asked about the local residents, and quickly the boy began rhyming off who everyone within that dead-end street was - mostly lowlifes and vagabonds, it seemed to be very much the type of place where those who were down on their luck ended up. When it came to the grey-clad man, the boy spoke of him as "Dennabis Hakk, but I ain't allowed ter talk to him."
Adar went through the rigmarole of feigning interest in all others, and gently returned the boy to this Dennabis.
"But he ain't really called that," the boy said. "No, I heard him talk fer himself. Vemmel he calls hisself."
There was a chuckle from behind, and Adar flicked his eyes around to meet those of a large, overbearing woman. She stood with a broom in her hand.
"Mad old fool thinks he's Vemmel himself!" she said. Adar quickly gathered this was the boy's mother as he palmed the coin without her seeing. The boy scooped up his marbles and ran inside, squeezing past her overweight frame.
"Vemmel, ma'am?" Adar asked, clutching at his illusory holy symbol. He had never heard of such a person, but that was no surprise as he knew little locally.
"The Grey Toad, sir," she replied. "Gone over a decade - the guilds were a-hunting fer him to take his head. Ran them amok for years, he did, stealin' without their say-so. Turns out to be this fellow Vemmel - Old Dennabis, fool that he is, reckons he's him. Now mind yerself sir, if yer goes near him - he's got an old sword he talks to, keeps it tucked up nice and safe in his dirty cloak. Wouldn't put him past stabbin' some poor bloke some night, what wi' his madness and all."
"Well I certainly wouldn't want that" Adar replied, feigning an embarrassed chuckle."Perhaps this man could use some administration of my healing talents. I will take heed of your advice, kind lady - now if you would kindly accept this gift from the temple" Adar said, handing her a piece of silver. "We celebrate the holiday of St. Hargrymm. This is a time when we give silver to the less fortunate in the tradition of that benificent man."
Adar couldn't help but smiling. If Hargrymm ever had a holiday named after him, the only thing being given out would be death blows. With that, he excused himself and proceeded to the door of this Dennabis character. If he was correct, perhaps he had a better understanding of why this fellow was so interested in a half orc. A madman believing himself to be someone named the Grey Toad and his preoccupation with someone of mixed heritage wasn't a coincidence, he believed. Well, at least Adar hoped it was just a diversion...still it was one they didn't need. Eloi would have to be informed of this. With that, Adar refocused, put on his best charitable face, and knocked on the door...

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