Black Hart

Gradsul by Twilight

Chapter 14 - Rat Traps Abound

Quickly, Adar resheathed his weapons and slipped out the front door - the woman whom he had spoken to earlier was sweeping outside her house, but it had been easy enough to slip away without her noticing.
As he walked into the main streets, however, people seemed to be staring at him, stepping aside from his path in order to avoid him. Wondering if he had grown a second head, Adar had a look at himself and his heart leapt in horror - his priestly robes were covered in the man's blood from head to toe!
Before long, now in his true image, Adar stood dripping on the south side of the Silver Flow. Luckily for him, there did not seem to be very many people about in the Orgsworth district at night. He had only hidden for five minutes before the road was clear of the cartmen who plied their trade at all hours, ferrying cargo to and from the docks. His shirt was now a disgusting pink colour, but at least it looked as though it was dyed that way, not merely evidence of his night's work.
He looked up at the cloudy sky, and realised it had grown dark quickly as it did in that part of the world. He was getting cold, although the night was quite fine, the light breeze made it unpleasant for a man soaked from head to toe. He made his way swiftly back towards the Golden Anchor.

Remarkably, it had taken less than half an hour to assemble close to Halykk's warehouse. They had all gathered the equipment they needed for the night's task from their swellings, and had a brief walk-by to acquaint themselves with the warehouse and its surrounding streets. It was just after dusk and the light was failing rapidly.
"Well," said Eloi. "You've all seen the streets hereabout. Any comments or plans from you. Looks to me that the only door you'd get the crates through is the big one leading on to Pickerstratz, which would seem to be open at all times. It would have been good to have this Meyrit with us, a bit of local knowledge."
Eloi looked up at the darkening sky, then back to the team.
"We haven't long to get ready. Speak your mind, but speak it quickly."
Akhan had been staring up into the night sky while Eloi was speaking. As the Baron finished he looked back down and it was apparent from the sparkle of his jewel eye that he'd removed his eye patch.
"Don't count on the bastards being so obliging Zeb. There's nothing to say they won't turn up at the back entrance and split the contents of the crate into more convenient portions to spirit away."
Akhan squinted upwards again and continued, "I fancy finding myself a higher perch."
His mouth split into one of his familiar grins and he pointed to the roof of the warehouse. "Up there ought to do. I can gaze down at the rear entrance and watch for their appearance. I should be able to hear them if they turn up at the front instead. But one of you pop round the back and signal to me if they do. I'll do the same from the roof if I spot them instead."
"We need the usual tailing procedure too, if you have one," Kyros said. He now wore the face of a young, almost elvish looking man this time, with ears nearly tapering to a point, and a very pale, whitish complexion, starking contrasting the form-fitting black garb and matching skullcap around him.
"You and Akhan closer to whomever we're following, Smokelight and I a little way behind, since you rogues can move in certain stealthy ways, and since four people walking together is a dead giveaway. If for some reason we need to split up into two different trails, again the two of you should, and we'll do likewise. If things get nasty we'll be casting spells over your shoulders."
Kyros might have seemed a little too familiar with such non-priestly matters, but no one deemed it necessary to ask too many questions.
"And it's Eldar, a roguish Celenese half-elf to you." Kyros said when they first stared at his new appearance. "Indulge me," he grinned.
"Whatever," Smokelight muttered. The old wizard was dressed like one of the homeless drunks who spent their nights down at the waterfront, but in his case, this wasn't a disguise - it was just how he normally looked.
"If we have to split up, where do you want to rendezvous?" Smokelight asked Eloi. "Also, what would you like us to do if we..." he pointed to himself and Kyros,"... are followed? I'm half-expecting it."
Beaming benevolently at Smokelight, Akhan thought to himself, "What a wonderful old sot he is." He was in a good mood now with the prospect of some nocturnal skulking. "Good point - I'd reccomend the Olidamarran shrine down by the docks. Might just afford some Higher protection, eh? And if you reckon you're being followed then..."
Akhan stared into space rather vacantly. What he wanted to say was, "lose them," but he was perfectly convinced that that was an impossibility. Dark memories of trying to sneak through Torrisz Keep with Jean-Paul the clanking paladin reminded him of how much he hated the encumbrance of having to carry out clandestine jobs with a cartload of amateurs along for the ride.
Still, all the magic he'd seen on board the Skelliak had convinced him that Smokelight was a necessary member of the team. Bastard was a little keen about dropping the magical cosh on people but he'd let that pass for the moment. So long as all that crap washed out of his clothes. Damn wizard'd be shelling out for that outfit if he could get it back to how it was.
"I'd suggest you all find some convenient doorways to hide in." Turning to Smokelight again he said sweetly, "Any old bit of the street ought to be fine for such a convinving tramp as yourself."
Clearing his throat as though becoming more serious, Akhan continued.
"Well if you're followed I guess you better try and find some busy tavern or other to take refuge in. That way you can't get jumped so easily." He shrugged. "We'll try and watch out for you. Try the first tavern you come to that's busy enough and that way we've a decent chance of catching up with you if we need to."
Akhan was nervily shifting from foot to foot by this point and was obviously losing interest in these details. He looked over at Eloi to see if he had anything to add
"Okay, I'll stand in or near a doorway at one of the buildings near the rear exit - how does that sound?" Smokelight said. "I suggest we have the rest near the front entrance, somewhere, and that we agree now on how we will signal each other. Will the half-elf be able to see all of us from the warehouse roof, with elf-inherited night vision? Will we be able to see him? If not, we may have a problem with the signalling... My suggestion is for our half-elven friend to somehow blink a bullseye lantern at each of us who are on the 'wrong side' when the crates are taken out."
Akhan winced, thinking "Amateurs!"
"No, no...we can't use light," he said. "If you were hauling a pile of gold like that, wouldn't you be overly cautious?  They may even have advance people watching all the byways surrounding the building.  A light signal would be seen instantly.  Let me go take a quick look around, ten minutes tops, then we'll come up with a signal.  They won't be able to move too fast with that haul, so we'll have time to double someone back to collect anyone on the 'wrong side.'"
"I'll take the front then," Kyros said. "Let me change into one of the Cartmen's Guild and look as if I work there. I could sit myself near the front doors, as if taking a break before I go. Heck, I could even enter the warehouse if I wanted. Might be too late to whip up a cart now, but I'm sure I can rustle up a full-looking sack to carry around or set down somewhere."
Eloi nodded silently as the others spoke. He had not seemed himself of late, and the worry of being in a position of responsibility seemed to Akhan to be subduing his usual carefree self. Not that it bothered him, it just made him much an easier target for his gallus  humour.
"Alright - Smokelight, you go to the other side, watch the back door from the south side of it . Kyros, you go in front of the warehouse, but do not get caught - they are likely to know most cartmen about here. Akhan, if you go on the roof, to the Pickerstratz side you should be able to watch the show. Then, once the cart leaves, throw down a stone to Smokelight before descending into the lane to the west of the building - then follow the carts, Smokelight should be able to see which way you go."
Eloi gurned his face as he thought it over.
"I will cover from the north side of Pickerstratz - once they move off, I will take the fore, followed by Akhan. Only we shall keep visual contact with the cart. Smokelight, you follow Akhan, and Kyros follow Smokelight. Make sure you keep your man in sight at all times. Kyros, any trouble being followed, you should be far enough away from the carts just to yell out to Smokelight. Any questions?"
With that Akhan grinned, and flitted from shadow to shadow, working his way over to the warehouse. He was looking for a discrete and simple location from which to reach the roof and his heart bubbled away merrily with pleasure. It was all he could do to avoid skipping along, such was the ridiculously childish pleasure he got from climbing into, onto and over places he shouldn't really be.
In but a few minutes, without another word spoken, they were all in position.

Adar was soon sitting over a fine steaming pot of fish stew.
His meal was almost finished and he had started to dry out nicely when the barman, polishing a pewter mug, tapped the bar and nodded to something behind him. Adar looked around and saw three men and a woman standing near to the door. One of the men had an eye-patch on his right eye - for a moment he wondered if it might be the half-elf, but in a second he clearly saw the man was human. He had a scar below his left brow, and a longer, deeper one running vertically from an inch below the eye-patch to an inch above it. They seemed to be deep in serious conversation and were oblivious to his surveillance.
Adar looked back to the barman questioningly.
"The one-eyed man I told you about," the barman said nonchalantly, returning to his task.
The three men and the woman spoke rapidly and quietly, and Adar meandered as close as he dared to catch their words - but still, from the few words he caught, they were in a foreign language. He suspected some western language or dialect, possibly Nyrondese. Within a few minutes, their conversation over, one of the men and the woman left the inn, leaving the one-eyed man and another, who sat down at a corner booth, ordering ales.
The two men continued their conversations, and from what he could discern, the one-eyed man was called 'Halstus', the other was 'Drimmian'. The one-eyed man spoke as though he were the leader, and the other man seemed to defer to him without thought. There was secrecy in their hushed tones, but the one-eyed man could not hide the venom in his voice - whatever they were talking about, he felt strongly about it. From their dress, and their mannerisms, despite obviously trying to hide the fact he could plainly tell that they were soldiers.
Within a quarter hour, the two who had left returned, with another in their company - a half-Olven man, strong and proud of bearing. His garb seemed more suited to the countryside than the sea. He did not seem impressed with the one-eyed man, and sat himself down across from him.
"I have found him," Halstus said, this time in common.
"This had better not be..." the half-Olve started.
"No, Mareschal," Halstus interrupted, "it is him this time. We tracked him by the fine horse he had when captured by your colleague near Tringlee, we have found it. He may disguise himself by magic, but there are always four to his group, he being the shapeshifting fourth member, and he cannot disguise the horse. This morning he went to an Olidamarran shrine in his true form, and we would have arrested him there but we feared losing him."
"He stays with a cloth merchant by the name of Halykk," Drimmian explained. "His colleagues are a human, a half-orc and a half-elf, and they are all staying in the city, for what we do not know. The half-elf stays with Sablefist, the other two live elsewhere."
Adar listened more closely now - Sablefist was the name of one of Eloi's team, and it seemed by the will of Istus that he had discovered another problem with his colleagues.
"Now that she has seen the fugitive in person, Arminna can locate him if you have satisfied yourself with the warrant," Halstus continued.
Halstus nodded to the woman, whom Adar noted was not armoured.
The Mareschal sighed.
"Irregular as it may be, your warrant is legally binding - however, there will need to be a hearing before a Sheriff prior to his extradition," he said. "Have you sufficient manpower to capture him?"
Halstus grinned evilly. "Oh yes, Mareschal - if he fights, he will not escape."
With that, the Mareschal stood up and they followed him out of the inn.
Adar managed to avoid rolling his eyes at this turn of events. The Spymaster seemed to have managed to gather a collection of talent all of whom were wanted by everybody and their cousin in the Sheldomar. "
"Well, at least all my enemies are up north," Adder reflected. For what that was worth, he realised the need to contact Eloi's group as soon as possible. One deranged madman with a rusty sword was one thing, but this seemed quite serious.
Tringlee? Where in the Nine Hells was that - maybe one of the Ulek States? Adar had an inquisitive look on his face as he finished his beer and left out the door, praying to Istus to find Eloi before these people did. Within two minutes, his search of the docks predictably unsuccesful, he returned and again questioned the barman, this time about 'Halykk' the cloth merchant.
"Halykk the cloth merchant?!" the barman asked rhetorically as he poured Adar's obligatory ale. "Well, I know a lot of Halykk's about here - a popular name."
He pushed the change from Adar's gold Merkke back to him. Adar took the hint and shook his head, gesturing the money back towards the barman.
"In that case," he continued, "you might be looking for Halykk Mandrennin - big-time cloth merchant, owns the Mandrennin Trading Company up on Pickerstratz."
The barman gave directions to Adar as he quickly gulped down most of the ale.

Akhan cursed his nature, volunteering for roof duty - it had been a hard climb up. Little did he realise that Gradsul's buildings, especially the warehouses, tended not to have drainpipes or guttering, and it had been touch-and-go getting over the wide eaves of the building. Luckily, it was dark, and nobody on the street had seen him arsing about for so long. He decided the way down would best be done with a rope, or by the time he was back to the street all the gold in the crates might have been spent already.
It didn't seem too long before his prime suspects came along, from the south. Two unladen carts, with several guards. From this height he could not make out any of their faces, but the lead cart had two men sitting at the front, the rear only having one. He fancied one of the front men as Gelders or O'Shad.
Then the wait was on.

Kyros soon realised how obvious he actually was, standing there in the empty street with little cover. As soon as the two empty carts came along, he decided he had best move on, and walked off to the south, in the opposite direction from Eloi. There he found a nicely shadowed spot to stand and watch the main doors to the warehouse, and luckily he could also see Akhan and Smokelight's positions, although only because he knew where to look.
It was a long, pensive wait, but not likely more than thirty minutes, before the carts emerged again. In that time another cart had arrived, but they had paid it little mind. He prepared to move out of its path, but instead of returning from whence it came, it headed north, towards Eloi's position. As he waited, Akhan slipped down a rope from the roof, retrieving it quickly before hurrying off down Pickerstratz. Smokelight soon waddled after him, and Kyros too, keeping a good distance.

The follow was not the most difficult of Eloi's career, but it was hardly the easiest. The guards surrounding the now-covered carts seemed quite aware of danger, and he had to keep quite some distance to remain undiscovered. Still, the terrain was reasonably easy apart from the problem arising from the lack of pedestrians in this area.
Also, they seemed to be taking a direct route, and being so slow there was little possibility of them dashing off and losing their shadows. Then, suddenly, as they neared a bridge over the Silver Flow, both carts stopped.
Eloi quickly found a doorway to cover him, glancing back to see that Akhan had done the same. A man from the front cart, whom Eloi had seen momentarily as they passed him in Pickerstratz, alighted and then remounted the rear cart. He was now even more sure that this man was Vellip O'Shad - he matched the absent Cinion's description of him, and seemed to be in command.
Just as suddenly, the carts were off again - the front one continued on to cross the bridge, whilst the other turned up the road running parallel to the river, towards the Hillgate.
Eloi motioned to Akhan to join him.
"We are almost being forced to spit up again. Is Gelder's in the front cart? If so, I vote that we make that cart our target. However, Akhan I want you to continue the tail of O'Shad's cart. See where he is taking it. The rest of us will take out Gelder's and his cart. Agreed?"
"Nerrul take you!" Akhan hissed nervily at Eloi. "I don't see Gelders. As far as I can make out it's a couple of heavies with the carts and possibly O'Shad. Have you been drinking the lamp oil again?" Akhan's teeth were visible even in the gloom of the doorway as he sniggered.
His hilarity disappeared quickly as the carts moved further away. He nudged Eloi and whispered, "I recognise this patch. Over the bridge is where Gelder's house and warehouse are located. It'd seem likely they're taking one the crates to either of those yeah? The other cart's a worry but. I hope it's not going to leave Gradsul."
Akhan removed a dagger from his boot and concealed it up the left sleeve of his shirt. "Your call, Peerless One. But personally I'd be more worried about the cart heading for the Hillgate. If they decide to take it out of Gradsul this evening then they've a good chance of losing us. Cos I can assure you I ain't attempting to take either of the two on that cart out on my ownsome."
"What'll it be then. I'm happy to follow the cart heading over the bridge towards Gelder's properties. I've walked the area and I've got a fair idea of the lay of the land. The rest of you could follow the other cart with O'Shad and be in a better position to stop them if they make an attempt to move the lead out of the city."
Eloi winced - Akhan was right. He cursed his lack of knowledge of the geography of Gradsul.
"We can assume the first cart is going to Gelder's warehouse. One of us should remain here to ensure that it does. However, your skills are more useful to me in the pursuit of O'Shad and the other cart. Wherever that goes may give us a clue as to his intentions. We should follow him and see where he goes. Who knows we may get a chance to capture him and the phoney gold."
Without loosing sight of O'Shad's cart Eloi motioned for the others to catch up. He spoke quietly. "Dunstin, I want you to follow the first cart and keep watch at its destination. It would appear to be heading to one of Gelder's warehouses. Do not take any undue risks. The rest of us are going to pursue the other cart. We think O'Shad is onboard and its destination is unknown. Perhaps he is playing his hand."
He paused. "If there is no further suggestions then lets get to it. Akhan follow up behind me. Kyros keep far enough back to keep out of sight, but close enough to provide support if we need it."
Eloi slipped into the shadow of a building and continued his silent pursuit of his quarry.

Within ten minutes Adar was standing before the warehouse that was the Mandrennin Trading Company. The streets about it were quiet, although there was some activity within. A quick walk around the block gave Adar the feel of that place. The warehouse was perhaps two to three storeys high, but had no exterior windows, perhaps as a precaution to precious cargoes 'walking' away. There were two entrances - a large pair of tall, sliding bay doors to the front on Pikkerstratz, which were wide open, and a smaller single door to the rear of the building which looked decidedly unused, and probably locked.
It was far from busy about here, but there was some activity within the darkness of Halykk Mandrennin's warehouse. He could hear men's banter as they worked, and the occasional thump or crash of manual work. This was not unusual from what he had seen, as many warehouses were open at all hours, as were Gradsul's docks.
He noted that the buildings here lacked gutters and drainpipes, so a climb to the roof of any building was likely beyond him.

Akhan waited until Eloi was a reasonable distance away, then began to follow him. Predictably, the cart continued up to the Hillgate where it continued past the guards and out into the Hillgate area, turning right. Akhan began to wonder if perhaps he would be better off leading this motley crew, as Eloi seemed somewhat out of kilter at the whole thing.
It moved slowly on along the road that ran parallel to Gradsul's walls, into Little Molvar, the Baklunish slum area. It was only when it reached the Garrisfurd area that it left the main road and turned onto the narrower back streets. At that distance Akhan could still see the cart and men, vaguely, but he had a much better view of Eloi. He quickly checked back to see Kyros, but obviously the priest was a better thief than he let on for he was well-hidden and Akhan could not see him.
They had not been in the gloomy Garrisfurd for long when the cart slowed to a stop outside a large building. Eloi peered back at him, but obviously he too failed to see him as he signalled a doorway across the road from him to stop.
The building was very large, with many entrances and no windows, built of wood and strangely oval in shape. In front there was a small square where there were a couple of empty booths, near to the building. It looked like some sort of arena, and reminded Akhan of the one in Rel Mord where he had wasted a good deal of his time and his father's money.
The cart seemed to move off again towards the arena, and then disappeared from his view, undoubtedly entering the building.

The guards had spread out slightly as they approached the building, turning around, and Eloi pressed himself deep into the shadows to avoid being seen. In a moment, O'Shad gestured them on, and four went inside, opening a larger set of double doors to allow the cart in. After it was gone, the last two men closed the double doors behind them, and Eloi could hear a thud like a wooden bar being dropped down carelessly.
Within a minute of his gesturing, Akhan had made his way to where Eloi crouched. They waited for Kyros, but after a couple of minutes he had not appeared. Eloi looked back, where there was no sign of their companion, and waved him on again. Still, no-one came.

Kyros had let Eloi get out of sight, and Akhan almost at his range of vision before resuming the follow. He could not see the cart, but Akhan continued up to the Hillgate, past the guards at the gate and out into the Hillgate area, turning right.
He followed on carefully, leaving the main road in the strange Garrisfurd area, following Akhan through the narrower back streets.
As they turned a corner, Kyros began to run to catch up with them - he was half way there when he heard someone call his name, cautiously, as though trying not to be heard by anyone else. Instinctively he turned, looking back to where the call had come from.
"Kyros, over here, quickly!" the voice hissed, as though trying to be loud without letting others hear. The noise was coming from a doorway about fifty yards back, and he could make out the rough form of a man hiding within the shadows there.
Kyros nipped back towards where the man was calling. He couldn't make out who he was, but was quite sure it had to be Eloi or Akhan. Even so, he gripped his staff tighter in anticipation. As Kyros stepped forward, the man stepped out of the shadows.
At first Kyros was startled - he had never seen the man before - and the eye-patch over his right eye, with a scar above and below it, made him think of the warning. Then he saw the scar below the man's left brow - he was more gaunt now, his face more tanned, but Kyros quickly recognised Zladarov Halstus!
He readied himself for the inevitable attack, then spun his head back and forth as he heard the footsteps behind him and to the sides - three, possibly four more men coming towards him.
"Kyros Telliran?" one man asked, stepping forward with a sheet of parchment in his hand.
Kyros glanced at him, refusing to take his eyes from Halstus for a moment. Strangely, he made no move for his weapons, but was grinning like the cat that got the cream.
"Kyros Telliran," the man repeated, this time with no question in his voice. Kyros could see now that he was a half-elf, well-groomed, and he detected a Keoish lilt to the man's tongue. "I am Ollf Veshper, King's Mareschal for the County of Gradsul. I have a warrant granted by the Lord Sheriff for your arrest and extradition to the custody of Major Halstus, representative of the King of Nyrond. Lay down your arms and come peaceably or we will take you by force."
The man held out the parchment to show, but he had no hope of reading it in the gloom of Garrisfurd.
"Go on, Sablefist," Halstus hissed under his breath. "Attack, so I may kill you and dispense with these formalities."

The cart and its escort, which seemed to number only two guards plus the driver, crossed the bridge, with the bumbling figure ambling along a short distance after it. Smokelight was certainly no creature of stealth, so he felt his best option was to blend in and maintain a safe distance. As he walked casually through the streets of Gradsul he had a strange feeling of familiarity, as though he knew exactly where he was going - but of course, he did not.
It did indeed seem to be heading towards the area that he was led to believe Gelders lived in, and he thought it strange that the pitiful guards were showing little concern for their safety, with such a precious cargo. It was only a matter of ten minutes before he found himself standing in Harber Stratz, looking at the side of the Azure Trading Company, where the cart had entered.
Smokelight slowed his pace, not sure whether he should risk peering into the doorway that the cart entered, or whether he should walk on past and wait for the others to catch up to him. He decided to err on the side of caution, and slowly walk past the doorway of the warehouse, while on the far side of the street.
Smokelight ambled past the large entrance, walking a hundred yards down the road and pressing himself against a recessed doorway. He felt reasonably safe from prying eyes in the darkness there, there were few people about, and he likely just appeared to be one of the multitude of drunks that seemed to populate this town.
He could see the cart, just inside the doorway. There were no guards about it any more, and nobody seemed to be trying to unload it - all very strange for such a valuable cargo!
Smokelight felt tempted to take at a look at the cart, which was tantalisingly close. Aha! He thought, that is merely Istus trying to "entrap" me again...
He thought back to the last time he'd acted overanxiously, when he'd cast the Stinking Cloud at the Shelliak. "That was just like me," he thought wryly. Also, he reminded himself that just because he didn't see any guards didn't mean there weren't any guards.
Slumping into a doorway, Smokelight settled himself in for a while. "Maybe I'll check it out in a little while," he thought, tilting up his flask. He found himself wishing for some Velunan Fireamber. That was the sort of brandy that kept one warm on a long watch through the night.

Akhan stared down the street, frowning. Where was Kyros? He cursed himself for not keeping a closer lookout behind him for the cleric. Hopefully it would turn out to be just that he'd lost sight of them and not something more dangerous. He turned to Eloi and sighed unhappily.
"We can't afford to wait for him any longer. I say we take a look in the arena and see what O'Shad's up to." While the Baron was mulling this over, Akhan scanned the grimy buildings towering around them. The last thing they wanted was a pointless little scrap with any local players.
Eloi smiled grimly at Akhans words. "I agree. He's probably stopped off somewhere on the road to pry" he mused. "We should try to find a way in where we won't be seen. It appears to be some sort of stadium. We should at least get a good view of what their up to. Let's go."
Eloi began to search the building for a suitable tradesman or goods entrance which had an easy lock to pick. He had only to turn the corner on the main doors to find a suitable door - as Akhan crouched, beginning to take out his lockpicks, Eloi forced a dagger between the lock and the hasp, and with a sharp wrench the nails popped from the rotten door. Akhan just looked at him disapprovingly, and stood up.
He pulled the door slowly open, and the smell of animals became stronger - flipping his eyepatch up he could see a stable area but there did not seem to be any occupants of the stalls right now. The floor was soft, undoubtedly packed with manure from the smell of things, and Eloi pulled the door shut behind them as they crept in. There was a slight grating noise as he pulled it shut, and both men held their breaths, listening for unwanted attention for a second. They breathed again as they heard nothing but the gentle wind outside and the occasional rat scurrying about the stalls.
To his left, Akhan could see a door that he was sure would lead to where the cart had gone - he pointed this out to Eloi, whose infravision was also helping him now. Eloi nodded, and they crept over to it. Placing his ear against it, Akhan strained, but again he heard nothing unusual. There was no lock on the door, and the handle made no sound as he turned it, slowly, carefully, pulling the door open a crack for Eloi to check.
Eloi put his eye to the door, and scanned as far as he could see. He saw no-one within, and nodded to Akhan to open the door.
As they got a better view of the room beyond, they could both see that it was an open passageway of sorts - from the shape of the roof, it ran below the terraces above where the spectators sat. Straight ahead, this passageway seemed to follow the curving building around its perimeter. To the left there were double doors, presumably the ones which the cart had entered by. Eloi checked the floor and pointed to the fresh heavily depressed wheel tracks leading from there to the right, which ended in another set of double doors, one of which was slightly open.
As they paused, they heard voices from beyond those doors, which presumably led into the arena proper. Suddenly, Akhan grabbed Eloi's arm. Among the footprints, there were two sets of clothes, complete with boots, dark in colour like those worn by the cart guards. Akhan had just pointed out a sword and scabbard propped against the wall when he almost yelled as one set of clothing moved.
Eloi had to stifle a laugh as a rat popped his head from the clothes and continued sniffing about the dubious materials deposited about the floor. Akhan stifled a desire to practise his dagger-throwing skills at the insolent rodent. Glaring at it he realised it was just as well - he'd have looked damn stupid if he'd missed. Out of habit, Akhan stepped over to the sword and gave it a quick once-over. It was never a good idea to leave such dangerously sharp objects lying around.
Somebody might get themselves stuck on the end of it!
It was a brief inspection however. He was more interested in hearing what the men behind the doors of the arena were discussing. He stepped lightly over to listen to whatever converssation was taking place, Eloi close behind.
The half-orc weas feeling uneasy, though. They were wide open to discovery should O'Shad decide to leave the arena. He glanced about them in worry.

Kyros might have kept an expressionless demeanour in front of his enemy, and the Mareschal and his men, but inside he wanted nothing more than to draw his weapon and run the man through. Was it possible that Halstus had pursued him all the way from Nyrond? How could he have tracked him down? And to Gradsul at that? He was the one-eyed man that Kyros was to fear, the one he had been warned about. The one named Zladarov Halstus.
Kyros weighed his words. He wanted to say, "Halstus! You bastard whoreson! I had hoped in my life never to see you again, though it gives me great satisfaction to see that you bear yet another scar from the last 'gift' I left you with. Captain, or is it Major, Halstus, this time I will have the pleasure of taking your other eye, and ripping out your guts as well."
But Kyros knew that that would have brought him big trouble. He'd have to leave Gradsul, assuming he could get away alive. Where was Eloi and Akhan? How strange it was that Halstus would lie in wait for him in the Garrisfurd area, seeing that he'd never been here before. Nothing seemed quite right, but then again Kyros was used to being chased, pursued, hunted. It was time to run again. Besides, wasn't it a few days ago when he was in prison for helping Emarill? Keoland seemed to have too many laws for his liking.
"There must be some mistake." Kyros spoke to the Mareschal with all the confidence and authority he could muster. "This man Halstus is my sworn enemy. Any accusations he has made, any documents he has shown as proof are baseless and possibly forged. He mistakes me for a man who no longer exists. Mareschal Veshper, I am a priest of Olidammara and am in your country by the leave of the Lord High Mareschal himself under a mission which threatens the security of this nation. I have as my references Lord Aranon Silverlief and Baron Eloi Brandt. Please verify that the warrant you have with the High Mareschal and see that it is not based on some sinister plot or deception against Keoland. By your leave I need to continue my current mission most urgently."
Kyros rounded that off with a contemptuous glint at the one-eyed Nyrondese. In truth, Kyros hardly knew what he was saying. He was busy considering his options, noting the number and the position of the men around him, looking at the surrounding buildings in search of the nearest street or corner he could dive for or duck around. His mind mentally prepared his spells, and he was also ready to change his appearance once out of sight.
"The warrant is sound, sir," the Mareschal said. "Whatever your predicament, I must take you in custody before we sort this out, and that means now."
He seemed to notice one of Kyros's sideward glances and a stern look came over his face.
"Cartman or Olidamarran, you will be cut down if you flee," he said, his hand lowering to a shortsword on his belt.
Kyros sighed, and nodded to the man.
"Olidamarra be praised," he exclaimed, grasping his holy symbol. "You are correct sir. There is a right way to deal with this..."
He took a step towards the Mareschal, muttering the words to his prayer as he went.
"Die!" he yelled at the man to his right as he finished the spell. He was sprinting past him even as he crumpled to the ground, running down the street, his would-be captors yelling as they took after him. As he ran, the nearest man swung out with his sword, and he winced as it bit deep into his arm.
"Get down!" he heard the Mareschal yell as he reached the first corner.
He glanced back involuntarily, seeing the man who was just about to pounce on him from the right. He almost tripped as the javelin launched at him by the Mareschal flew in slow motion towards him. There was nothing he could do as he almost stumbled and fell, seeing that his pursuers, Halstus amongst them, were diving for the ground.
As the javelin struck him, there was an explosion, a blinding flash of light and he was thrown clean around the corner as pain wracked through his body. Pulling himself to his feet, there was a terrible smell of burning and it was coming from him. He could see, just around the corner, the smouldering corpse of his closest pursuer who had also taken the brunt of whatever magic the Mareschal had thrown his way.
As he heard the clanking footsteps lumber towards him round the corner, he took off again, noticing that some folk had come to their windows at the commotion. As he turned one corner, he cursed as someone shouted, "That way! He went that way!"
Next turn and he found himself staring down a dead-end alley, realising for the first time how appropriate that name could be. He turned, staff in hand, waiting to face the first man who followed. Without looking, however, Halstus ran straight past the entrance to the alley and he heard him puff as he ran on up the street.
The pain from what Kyros assumed to be some magical javelin hurt like crazy, and his back seemed still on fire. But the time was too urgent, too crucial, to bother with a cure spell.
Kyros thought himself a new appearance - a old, bald and bearded, somewhat toothless destitute beggar. His staff was a walking stick, his clothes tattered and threadbare, his posture stooped, and with a limp. Suddenly he realised that he had returned to his true form - fearing some magic from his pursuers, he tried again to change, but nothing happened. Instinctively he clutched at his hat, and immediately knew that something was wrong.
What he pulled form his head was a smouldering mess, a useless lump of half-burnt cloth that would hide him no more from the prying eyes that followed him. His heart sank, and as he heard the rest of the pursuers clattering up towards the alleyway he felt like sitting down in the mud and letting Halstus come and take him to the grave.

Akhan shook his head, indicating to Eloi that he could hear nothing.He could clearly hear two men speaking, but from this distance, and they seemed to be a few hundred yards away, he could make out nothing of the content of their conversation. The doors were slightly open, and he could see that it was very dark beyond them, as though shaded from what little light there was that night, or within a tunnel or suchlike.
He couldn't help himself. Despite the obvious danger, Akhan had never been able to resist his curiosity for very long and he just had to know what these two were talking about. Turning briefly to Eloi, he motioned for the rogue to stay put and slipped through the doors into the dark passageway beyond. Automatically, he glided over to the left hand wall leaving his right hand with greater freedom of movement should he need it.
As he crept carefully along, feeling ahead with his hand on the wall, he silently berated himself for getting into situations like this.
"They're probably just scratching their arses and talking about how bad the weather's been," he thought to himself.
Without actually thinking the words, as he didn't want to appear presumptuous, he hoped there was another entrance to this passage up ahead which he could escape into, if he had to. He slid silently down the passageway, which was devoid of any other exits, until he caught sight of the cart.
Almost a hundred yards away in the centre of the race track, there were four guards around it, plus the man they thought was Vellip O'Shad. Across from Vellip, grasping his arm firmly in a fraternal handshake, was another man, about five feet tall, thin, with ratty features and a dark goatee beard. He could hear snippets of their conversation.
"Did you have any problem getting here safely, brother," the rat-faced man asked in sibilant tones which reminded Akhan of the Drow at Torrisz.
"None, brother," Vellip replied.
As they spoke, Akhan suddenly realised that two of the guards, were nowhere to be seen.
Akhan shifted uneasily from foot to foot as he listened intently.
However, when the man addressed O'Shad as "brother", Akhan felt his world start to fall in. Eyes bulging, the awful realisation hit him.
"Aaaaak," he thought. An image forcibly flashed before him of a murderous scene in the forest around Axewood Palace.
"Joramy damn me!" Akhan cursed himself furiously.
With an anxious glance above his head he turned round quickly and began to retrace his steps back to Eloi. "That wasn't a rat in those clothes," he angrily told himself. "That was a wererat!" He was sure of it - the memory of the murdered wererat at Axewood convincing him utterly.
Hurriedly he gained the door and slipped back through.
"Wererats!" he hissed urgently in Eloi's ear, which Akhan suddenly realised to resemble nothing so much as a plum cauliflower, and gestured at the pile of clothes on the floor. Akhan was sure that the insolent rat he'd seen must be scurrying off to raise the alarm at this very moment. "O'Shad and another Brotherhood agent are out there plus four guards that I could see. This is getting out of hand. We need to stop them now!" Akhan spared Eloi a hard stare, breaking off momentarily from his anxious scanning of the passageway for rats or other adversaries.
Right at this moment, Akhan wouldn't have given a fennig to know what the Brotherhood were up to. He was starting to think of a beautiful Olven duchess and how Thoggin probably didn't care a fenning for Akhan's life. Staying alive had always been one of Akhan's more treasured pastimes however, and this caper was beginning to feel out of control. They'd identified O'Shad and that his associate here in Gradsul was Gelders. Now they had another Brotherhood agent here in this arena and, if they were quick enough, they might just be able to sweep up all three of these major pieces off the board.
"We need support, fast. I say we get the local Mareschal and jump on some heads. Right now though, we have to get out of here before they catch us."
Akhan started to leave the arena the way they had come in - there was a slight nagging voice at the back of his mind which suggested that perhaps he was just a bit too easily spooked into running off so quickly. He was past caring now though. They were most definitely outnumbered here and it was time for some action to put a stop to whatever these perversions of sweet Mother Beory's Oerth were up to.

Smokelight waited, and in almost a half an hour nothing happened, aside from the occasional guard or warehouseman walking past the entrance. He was about to leave that place when another cart, this one unguarded, was driven into the warehouse by a solitary cartman.
Immediately the place was a hive of activity - he could not see from that angle exactly what they were unloading, but there were quite a few people involved in the task.
As he continued to wait. there seemed a subdued air of relief from within the Azure Trading Company, although he could still not see anything of note from where he was sitting. Two guards had come to the doors, although they seemed intent on leaving them open rather than closing them for safety's sake.
After ten minutes, as the activity continued within, a black carriage pulled up outside. Smokelight could catch only a passing glimpse of the man who left he carriage for the warehouse. He was middle-aged, with a short beard and dark hair, wearing a large felt hat and a long cloak. The guards offered no challenge as he walked in.

With the realisation that his beloved hat of disguise was no more, and the sound of pursuing footsteps closing on him. Kyros pleaded with his god and altered his appearance the way every Olidammaran priest learnt to at an early stage of their priestly service, and covered himself with as much filth as possible. He then prepared himself once again to react to what might transpire in the next moment.
He had barely finished casting his spell, and was crouching on the ground with one hand in the mud, when the Mareschal rounded the corner, a glowing red shortsword in hand. He seemed mildly surprised not to see Kyros the cartman - he then looked to the ground by the light from his sword, and back up to Kyros the tramp. He pointed the sword at him.
"Surrender yourself, Kyros Telliran, and I will ensure you a fair hearing!" he demanded. "Fight me, and that bastard Halstus will get what he really wants!"
"I have no desire to fight you Mareschal!" Kyros looked almost incensed at the ridiculous predicament he was in. "That should be obvious by now, or else I would have blasted you with my most potent spell when you rounded that corner. Besides, what is this about a hearing? You know I have commmitted no crime in Gradsul." Kyros was really furious by now.
"Mareschal, you are a man concerned with the security of this realm. I tell you I am here for precisely the same purpose, by the order of the Lord High Marschal. I swear I speak the truth. Even now a Brotherhood plot might be underway, and I am wasting time here trying to explain this to you."
"Mareschal Veshper, you are a wise man, and I am a man of the cloth. Give me leave now and I give you my word I will present myself to you at your mercy once this is over. I swear upon my god that this will be so. Even better, aid me now in picking up a trail that might already have grown cold."
Kyros wasn't sure whether his ears deceived him, but for a moment he reined in his anger somewhat and cocked an eye at the man before him, "Why refer to that Nyrondese scum as 'bastard' if you believe him and not me?"
"He is a bastard with naught but vengeance on his mind," the Mareschal said. "But he is a bastard with the law on his side. The choice is yours - come with me in peace and have your say at the hearing before a decision is made on your extradition, or resist and face death."
As the Mareschal spoke, Kyros could hear the footsteps of several people running towards them. He tried his best to size the Mareschal up, not flinching from his position - this one didn't look as unreasonable as the last one who threw him in gaol.
"Alright Mareschal, I will come with you peacefully if you allow me to send a message to my companions to come look for me so that they can look me up before we leave Gradsul. Promise me that, and we can do this honourably."
The Mareschal nodded.
"I will notify whosoever you wish, Mister Telliran," he said, his hand drawing a pair of manacles from his belt.
As he finished speaking, Halstus, a woman and the man who had 'died' around the corner, all ran back into sight, forming about the Mareschal, their weapons out. Halstus' face fell as he realised the Mareschal had no intention of fighting it out with Kyros.
"But, but Drimmian lies dead by his fault," Halstus complained, pointing his sword angrily at Kyros.
The Mareschal shook his head as he stepped forward to manacle Kyros' hands, saying, "What you seek is some twisted vengeance, Major. Your warrant does not empower you to this in my domain, and if you try anything further I will kill you myself."
There was a look of pure rage on Halstus' face at the way the Mareschal spoke to him, and he seemed completely lost for words.
The Mareschal held up the manacles for Kyros to hold out his arms. "I am trusting that you are a fair man, Mareschal."
Deep inside Kyros gave one last thought, wondering whether he was committing the most idiotic act of his life. It still wasn't too late to cast that handful of dirt in his left hand in someone's eyes, still not too late to scythe the legs of those standing before him, still not too late to cast that spell on his lips, in the half-crouch position he had frozen himself in all this while.
Kyros wearily handed his staff to one of the Mareschal's men. "I'd like that back when I get out of this," he said with a half-smile. Turning back to the Mareschal he put out his wrists, "I'd be happier without those manacles, but if you insist... and I'd like to cast some healing on myself, except that you probably wouldn't trust me to do so now, so I'll pass. I'm sorry about your man in the path of the javelin - can I offer to do something for him?"
Kyros, tired, unthinking, lapsed into behaviour that was familiar to him, familiar priestly banter of the last nine years of his Nyrondese life. Past the anger at the situation, a weariness came over him - one that was easily explained - he was tired of running.
Maybe the Pomarj next time - they'd probably leave him alone there.

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