Falnic. Belinswae. Winter...
"Did you hear what happened to the goldsmith?" says the shipping agent who continues with "The one just off the square around the corner, does a fair bit of work for the high and mighty, including some of the justifiers".
"No, what's happened?" asks Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy, who knows perfectly well what's happened to said goldsmith, as he's the one who did it.
"They say he was murdered in his sleep" says the shipping agent, who shakes his head as he sits behind his desk, looking out the glass window to their right, which shows the harbour, and the open ocean beyond.
"Right in his own bed it was" says the shipping agent, a man in his fifties, who many years ago was a sailor, but found life on land far more appealing than being at sea for most of the year.
"His mistress was beside him when it happened, she didn't even wake as he was strangled to death" says the shipping agent in disbelief, who after a moment's pause, adds in a slightly dry tone "Now his wife wasn't too pleased to find out he was cheating on her with a tavern wench".
The spy from the elven principality of Alínlae in the Southlands laughs, and after a moment, so does the shipping agent. After they share a laugh, the elf from south of the equator says "I think his wife might not be too upset at his untimely demise".
"That's the truth, she'll be glad he's out of the way, and their son can take over the business" says the shipping agent, who is of the opinion that the son is near to useless, and that the once prosperous goldsmith's shop will soon be out of business.
The shipping agent looks away from the window, and looks at the elf sitting across from him, and he says "Well then, half a dozen it is" he continues with "They're pleased to do any work if truth be told, not a lot of trade of late, just the loading of goods for the navy going north up the coast, but they've got their guild cargo men for that" he then adds "Regular longshoremen will take any work they can, especially if it'll keep them from being noticed by the press gangs".
Dalinvardél Tanith nods to that, then says "I can imagine" then the elven spy who was once in the service of one of the noble houses in his homeland of Alínlae, says "I'll be waiting for them at the arranged time".
The shipping agent nods, then tells the elf, who he thinks is from Maladimbáh, and who has been a valued customer since the end of autumn "I'll have them there" he clears his throat, then he says "Now about the price".
The haggle for a little bit, and eventuality agree on a price, and Dalinvardél Tanith finally hands over a small pouch of coins. He thanks the shipping agent, and shakes his hand. Then the elven spy from the Southlands makes his way out of the man's office, then the building.
Before what he plans to do later in the early evening, the elf from the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands has something else he wants to do. Just a quick little bit of murder, which he's been doing a lot of since returning to the city of Falnic earlier in the week.
Dalinvardél or Dalin as he's commonly referred to by those who know him, heads uphill, leaving the northern part of the harbour behind.
The elven spy who is part of the war effort against the justifiers of Belinswae, who have invaded the Stone Hills, and the dwarven clanholds there.
Has been attacking the justifiers, and those who are closest to them. Whether they be business owners, who supply goods to the justifiers for their war against the dwarven clans in the land immediately to the north of Belinswae.
Or those who are strong supporters of the war, for not all townsmen are in favour of the invasion into the Stone Hills. Some who gladly support the raids into the Nomad's Plains against their longtime enemies, the tribal nomads. Are against the war to the north in the Stone Hills.
Even justifiers are staying out of the war against the dwarven clans to the north. True most of them are from southern Belinswae. Especially along the coast.
Though there is one prominent justifier here in the heart of the region, here in the city of Falnic, who is not involved in the invasion into the Stone Hills. And has been against it from the get go. Who argued not to pursue this course of action. But was shouted down when the justifiers met, to decide to attack the dwarven clans of the Stone Hills.
The dwarves who have the raw materials that's needed for the justifiers continuing raids into the Nomad's Plains. Not to mention all the treasures found throughout the Stone Hills. Which will more than pay for the continuing raids against the nomad tribes on the vast, dry, arid plains to the east of Belinswae.
That justifier being the youngest one, the wizard Sammacin. Who has had a serious change in his life since the summer. When he had a run in with lord Farque and Helbe the elven thief.
The elven prince from Laerel who cast a spell upon the wizard Sammacin, which has brought about his change in attitude.
Which has also put him at odds against the other justifiers here in Falnic. In particular the mage Kaellin, whose idea it was in the first place to invade the Stone Hills, after he failed to secure a treaty with a lord in the south of the elven principality of Maladimbáh. Where his guards could of been garrisoned, and have easy access down into the Nomad's Plains.
It's a hell of lot easier raiding down into the dry, arid plains from Maladimbáh, than it is to head east from Belinswae. As the nomads tend to keep as far away from their enemies, the townsmen of Belinswae, as much as they can.
Dalinvardél Tanith briefly stops at the top of a street and looks down towards the harbour. A gust of wind blows by, but it's nothing to the bone chilling winds he experienced in the Stone Hills. The elven spy is glad to be here in the mild winter weather of Falnic, compared to what it's like over a hundred and twenty miles north of here, in the clanholds of the Stone Hills dwarves.
The elf from south of the equator turns into a lane and makes his way towards a leather workers shop, behind a nearby square. A shop that's been busy all winter, as the owner is working exclusively for three of Falnic's justifiers.
Making leather goods for their armies. Everything from leather satchels for documents and missives. To leather armour for the guards of those three justifiers. The elven spy intends to kill the shop owner this afternoon, before he goes ahead with what he's planned for tonight.
As he exits the lane, Dalin glances up at the early afternoon sky, and sees that it's continuing to cloud over, as a bit of a storm front comes in off the ocean "Good" murmurs the elf from south of the equator, who knows that cloud cover later on, will help with what he has planned for the night.
It's early evening, and Dalinvardél Tanith is at the corner of a warehouse down near the docks, when he sees the half a dozen longshoremen approach. They're all pushing hand carts. And they all look a little nervous, for the press gangs have started to patrol this part of the city. When previously they've been mostly around the docks in the south of the city.
"Here you go" says Dalin as he hands one of the dock workers a folded piece of parchment "What is it?" asks the longshoreman "Justifier's pass" replies the elven spy from south of the equator.
There's sighs of relief from the dock workers, who all know they're safe from being taken, and pressed into one of the armies or the navy, now that they've got that pass.
"In here" says Dalinvardél Tanith who points to the warehouse, and leads the way in "Follow me" adds the elf from the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands.
Inside Dalin takes a lamp that's lit by a crystal from the Stone Hills, using a torch or a flame lit lamp wouldn't necessarily be the smartest idea. "This way" quietly says the elven spy who leads the longshoremen into a large room in the relatively empty warehouse. Inside the room sits just half a dozen large barrels, which are wrapped in a layer of thick, damp, wool.
"Kinda smells like lamp oil" says one of the longshoreman as he another of the dock workers picks up a barrel and puts it in his hand cart.
"Kinda does, doesn't it" says Dalin as he watches the longshoremen load the carts, the Southlander then adds in a slightly dry tone "But it's not".
Once all six carts are loaded, the elf who served in one of the noble houses in his homeland of Alínlae, leads the way out of the warehouse, to a nearby dock.
Even though it's early evening, there's hardly anyone about. There isn't a curfew in Falnic, but there might as well be one in the city. As a lot of people, especially harbour side, are afraid to be out at night this winter, due to the roving press gangs.
As they head to a particular dock, they pass one such press gang heading the opposite way.
They're a group of ten in dark clothing, lightly armoured beneath. And carrying cudgels, and two of then have chains and stocks in sacks if the clanking from them as they walk by is anything to go by.
They eye the longshoremen and the carts they're pushing. But they leave them alone as they see it's an elf who is leading them to one of the nearby docks.
Dalinvardél Tanith looks back at the press gang once they've gone by, a press gang who are just guards in the service of one of the Justifiers of Belinswae.
I should really do more about them, the elven spy thinks to himself, as lately he hasn't killed many of those guards who are in the press gangs. He's been quite busy with other things, like this evening's goings on.
The dock has steps leading down to the water, at the base of the steps are tied a pair of ship's boats. Sailors in black clothing are at the oars, waiting for them, there's two in one boat, and three in the other.
They help the dock workers to load the barrels into the boats, once the boats are loaded, Dalin hands one of the dock workers a small pouch of coins, and quietly says "A little something extra for you lot".
"Thank you sir" quietly says the longshoreman who then heads quickly back up the steps, gets his hand cart and hurries away with his fellow dock workers.
While the elven spy gets into the boat with just the two sailors, and he quietly says "Let's go" followed by "We've got that dock" he looks over at the other boat and tells them "You've got the warehouse on the pier".
There's head nods, then oars are slipped into the water, and they push off. Heading into the wind, and the lightly falling rain that's just started.
They approach a dock on the south side of the harbour, slipping through ships that are anchored out from it. The dock is one of the docks used exclusively by the navy of Belinswae. The navy being the only thing that the Justifiers use communally, unlike their armies, which are individual to say the least.
One of the sailors, a smuggler like all of them in the two boats, gestures to under the bench that Dalin is sitting on. The elven spy reaches under it, and take hold of a mallet, the wooden head is covered with a soft rubber like substance found in trees from the south of Belinswae.
With a couple of hits, the Southlander knocks out the bung in one of the three barrels in the boat as they head under the dock.
The barrel is leaning up against the starboard side gunnel, and as the boat heads slowly beneath the dock this night, Dalin and one of the smugglers lifts up the barrel a bit, and pour out the contents.
The smell of naphtha is strong as it pours out, it's why they're all wearing dark cloths covering their mouths and noses.
"Quiet" softly says Dalinvardél Tanith when one of the smugglers quietly says "Hope not much of that gets on the boat". They remain silent as they pour out the three barrels of naphtha beneath the long dock, that has half a dozen navy vessels tied up to it this night.
Beneath a nearby pier, the other smuggler's row boat is doing the same thing. That pier has a large warehouse on it, in which is stored goods, everything from weapons to food stuffs, that heads north up the coast to northern Belinswae. Supplies for the Justifier's armies fighting the dwarven clans of the Stone Hills.
A little bit later tonight, that pier and the warehouse on it. Along with this dock, and the ships tied up to it. And a few vessels moored close by. Will all be on fire, and will be completely destroyed when Dalinvardél Tanith lights the naphtha that's floating on the surface of the water.
By the early morning, the people of the Falnic will realise that the war against the dwarven clanholds of the Stone Hills, has suddenly come to their city, when they've thought they've been safe and out of harms way as they're a good hundred and twenty miles from the fighting . . . . . .
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