Bagrus glances overboard, a cocky smile forming on his face. "A little scared of the water, eh? You elves and your make-belief stories." He kneels on one of the benches, peering down into the inky blackness. "It's probably just a coast shark." He uses the oar to stir up the water, watching for a reaction but finding none.
"They're not just stories," Aeron says, watching carefully as the orc leans over and disrupts the water. "Have heard the Gwthio can swim far from those waters too." He gives Galain a knowing look, hoping she takes his hint to help. Elvish Translation
Galain's eyes go wide at your Quellamese word. You stand, throwing the weight of your body forward and into Bagrus' back. Galain is immediately beside you, her arms outstretched — pushing. "The oar," she hisses, as the orc tips overboard holding it.Mechanics
Bull Rush hits. Bagrus fails saving throw to resist being pushed off.
Roll Thievery or a Strength check to see if you are able to wrest the oar free before it goes into the drink.
With a frenzied start, you tear the oar free from Bagrus, his grip failing on both it and the boat as he tumbles into the waters of the bay. You hear the strained shouting of him for a moment as you begin to paddle away, back toward Southward.
"Wh-where are we supposed to go now?" Galain asks, her voice tight as if she's on the verge of tears.
"To safety," Aeron says through a shaky breath as the sounds of desperate splashing and shouting fades into uneasy stillness. "It was us or him. Someone powerful wants this crew dead. Clan ties." He shakes his head, weary eyes watching the ripples off every oar stroke.
He looks to the warehouse they'd departed from, navigating away from it and toward a disheveled yet sturdy enough pier tucked amongst the disarray. He pulls the boat in close, taking a moment to catch his breath and helping Galain out. "With any luck, my friends should still be near the warehouse," he manages, eager to reunite with the others.
You change course further east along the ruined docks and away from the wharf you came from. Galain is quiet for most of the ride, clearly having little to do other than sit and wait.
Further down the coast you find a dilapidated pier, its decaying husk half-sunk into the clay beneath. Still, a sizable portion stands strong, the pilings bearing what weight they can. You draw the dingy close and moor it. The streets beyond seem quiet and empty.
"I am going home," Galain announces with a look that is one half a request and the other an admission.
Everyone Else
After a long moment, the door to the shack creaks open. A man appears — a greying orc with a missing ear. He stands with straight posture, his hands on his hips. The man looks curiously at first Calva, then the other guard, then finally the lingering assortment of elves in tow. "What's this about?" he asks, his tone carrying a hint of amusement.
"What are you doing out here?" Calva asks, her tone blunt but not harsh.
"What's it look like?" he responds. "I'm inspecting this shithole."
"Why?"
"Looking to set up shop here, of course." The greying man grins. "If the clan still holds a deed after the war. Otherwise, I suppose it's free, eh?" He turns toward the other guard. "Good to see you, Dregna. And how is your captain this fine evening?"
The other guard taps his partner on the shoulder. "See, Calva? I told you."
Before Calva responds, the greying man turns toward the group of you. "Who are your friends, here? You Clan folk keep strange company, this late at night."
I guess we don't really have any evidence, but that's not much of an investigation, Alierin thinks, disheartened as it becomes obvious their plan is likely to fail. Dregna and his captain, she thinks, committing the names of those on Donleg's take to memory. Piatenka will want to know who's in her rival's pocket.
"Concerned locals," Alierin replies, leaning forward to get the best look through the door and into the warehouse. If he's the only one here now, our best bet might be to try and keep the guards here until others come back. That'll at least show he's lying.
Aeron lets out a heavy sigh, looking over Galain with a worn expression. "It's not safe to go alone at this time of night," he replies, frowning with concern hanging on his words. "Let my friends and I walk you home, please." If something happened to her after all of this... I couldn't live with myself.
He sighs again, giving her an earnest look. "I'm sorry for this night and for the memories that might haunt you now. Just know someone in the Clan wants to put Donleg and his whole operation in the ground. And I couldn't bear your father's face if you went with it. You and Gerirl... I had to help."
"Okay, yeah," Galain relents, nodding glumly. "I knew something felt off once Gerirl took off. I just... I didn't know it'd be this."
She looks up at you. "Where are your friends?"
Everyone Else
Alierin
The greying man blocks most of your view into the shack, but from what you can see, it appears to be quite bare. A few spare nets and piles of rope line the ground. There is a wide gate providing access to the water which sits wide open, as if left open or in active use.
"Don't worry about them," Calva says, waving a hand dismissively toward you. "But I do need you to come out. These docks aren't safe these days."
"If you say so," the man complies with a shrug. He stares your way, his unblinking eyes falling upon each of your faces.
Calva closes the door behind him, giving a wary look at the back of the man, before turning to her partner. "Dregna, walk these kids along."
The other guard nods. "Of course. This way, elves," he says, giving you a frosty smile as he beckons you to follow him back toward the city.
Dessarius
As you turn to leave, you notice through the dim moonlight that a small dinghy appears to be approaching the shack — cutting through the water in relative silence. A few silhouetted figures are aboard.
"Why is the gate in there open if it's just you?" Alierin asks the man, ignoring the clan guards' requests to leave, as she hopes to delay things further.
If we'd known there were more of our people under Donleg... But of course Gerirl, the idiot, failed to mention that. Aeron shakes his head, already growing weary of the Clan-sponsored crime circles they've become embroiled in. "Yeah... We thought we'd just get Gerirl out of it, but your boss made me take his place." He pauses, giving Galain another concerned glance. "I'm glad though." He gives her a wan smile, hoping to give her some level of comfort.
"Come on. With any luck, they'll still be near the warehouse," the elf says, beginning to lead the way back to the others.
"He's not my boss anymore," Galain says. "Sounds like this whole job is off."
She frowns as you begin walking. "Hold on, I thought you said the Clan Guard was back at the shack? It seems stupid to go back there."
Everyone Else
"Who said I'm alone?" the greying man responds without missing a beat. "As the good guardswoman says, Southward's not a safe place for an old man like me. I sent a team out earlier, testing the waters."
Calva eyes him once more."I've got a question or two about that. You, stick around." She stays by the shack.
"I think that's enough chatter. Let's move along," the other guard directs you, gesturing toward shore, keeping pace with you.
"Hmpf, he's got an answer for everything," Alierin says before slowly allowing herself to be moved along some by the guard, unsure of how she can delay things further.
At least she seems to be suspicious, she thinks, looking back at Calva. Whether or not that leads to something who knows. At least Gerirl is safe, and Aeron can handle himself. We can tackle Piatenka's displeasure later. We need to find a way to be free of that bitch.
"They might be, but," Aeron says, looking back to Galain as he leads. "They wouldn't know we were there. And Donleg wouldn't be able to identify us without ratting himself out." He shrugs. "But we can hang back a distance if you'd feel better."
"If so unsafe, why test at night, when less safe?" Sisera asks, ignoring the guard trying to usher them along, instead following Alierin's suit in probing the man to delay their departure. He is so obviously involved, but good at deflection. But what if Aeron is there? We need to spot him - and allow him to spot us - if he is. Then our story is much more believable. "Why not test at day?"
Dessarius points out toward the dinghy, hoping to get the guard's attention: "I think if we stay here, we'll know in a few moments what exactly is happening here. Is that the crew you sent out?" He asks the elderly orc, trying to ignore the dismissal of the orcs.
At Dess' words, Alierin stops, taking a couple of steps back towards the warehouse.
They'll have gotten rid of the cargo now, but we might still be able to get them here, she thinks, waiting to see how the guards react to the new arrival.
"I would feel better just going home," Galain insists. "I'll walk with you toward the dock, but then I'll leave from there."
Everyone Else
The greying man listens patiently to Sisera's question, though his attention is drawn toward the water at the blacksmith's gesture. "In fact, it is." He squints into the inky water, a frown on his face.
In the moonlight, you all see a dinghy approach the small shack. Aboard are what appears to be an older elvish man, a middle-aged Serranborn, and an orcish teenager. They peer up at the wharf at you and the guards, confusion plainly on their faces. "What's the word, boss?" calls the Serranborn, rowing the dinghy closer to avoid having to shout.
The greying man raises a hand to hail the men. "Just speaking to the local watch. Wait for me here, and we'll all head back together."
There is a quiet word shared between the three on the boat, before they seem to agree with a unison of nods.
The guardswoman Calva stares down at the dinghy and the men inside, before her eyes scan the perimeter."I'm really interested in hearing your explanation for all this now," she says, turning back to the greying man.
"Keep moving," the other guard commands of you, his tone now short and strained. "I'm not going to ask you again." He gestures toward the shore, his other hand tight on his spear.
No Aeron. He managed to get away like we planned, although this isn't really the welcoming party we had in mind, Alierin thinks, trusting Aeron to have escaped from the gang of smugglers.
"We're going, we're going!" She replies to the guards, holding her hands up as she starts moving once more. This is out of our hands now.
Aeron frowns at Galain's words, looking to see if he can spot any of his companions yet. Stubborn. But expected after what we've been through. Hopefully the others are wrapping up.
You hear Calva's voice continue, the tone accusatory, as she questions the greying man. Meanwhile, her partner shuffles you back down the dilapidated pier and onto the ruined roads of Southward.
"Keep your noses out of place they don't belong," the man hisses, turning back to you. "I shouldn't have to tell this to a bunch of fish-brain mutts like yourselves, but there is a careful balance of power in this city. You'd be wise not to upset it, or it'll crush the weakest peg. That's you."
His attention is drawn from you momentarily. You turn to see the source of his distraction, finding the familiar face of Aeron approaching — a young elvish woman close behind.
Aeron
You make your way south once more, back toward the pier you had set off from. As you near it, however, you catch sight of Alierin, Sisera, Dessarius, Vaughn, and Cymril, as well as an unfamiliar orc. He wears the familiar, grey quilted armor with the Clan insignia and carries a spear. His head snaps up your way, a perturbed look on his face. Galain whispers: "Are they with you?"
Sisera glares at the man as he spews his hateful bigotry their way, one of the first to do so to her in awhile. She looks down at him, his status as a guard the only thing preventing her from reacting the way she wants to. "Right now, weakest peg is you," she responds instead, hoping that he might recognize the danger inherent in insulting their group. You could not last one day in Quellam, small man. You're not even as strong as the 'bear.'
Whatever, Alierin thinks, having heard similar tirades from Groznid natives most of her life. Her eyes light up as she spots Aeron and the other elf approaching.
He made it! I knew he'd fine a way to get out of there even if we failed.
"Yeah, that's them. Minus the guard," Aeron says back to the inquiring Galain. He gives them a quick wave and smile, the guard's expression giving him a sense of unease. I wonder how it went, but I can't imagine good. I'll ask on the way home, I guess."There you guys are. I was about to walk our friend here home. If this fine officer isn't keeping you, would you care to join me?" he says, keeping a careful eye on the orc.
The guard gives a chilly smile to Sisera, seeming apathetic toward giving her any real response. As Aeron approaches with the young woman, the guard waves you all off dismissively. "Yes, move along. Your friends here have the right idea." He eyes Aeron and the young woman warily, but doesn't seem to pay them much mind, already looking back down the pier where he came.
Alierin represses the urge to reply to the guard's dismissive wave with an obscene gesture, instead reluctantly following his orders and continuing to lead the group away from the piers as Aeron and the new elf join them.
"Things didn't exactly go to plan, but at least both you and Gerirl made it out," she says to Aeron, relieved to see he is unharmed. "Who's this?" She asks, turning to the other elf.
"Didn't go to plan how, exactly? And what was the deal with that guard?" Aeron asks, curious what all he'd missed while asea with the smugglers. "This is Galain, Tribute Temlys's daughter. She got wrapped up in Donleg's operation too, like Gerirl. But we helped each other escape." He gives Galain a weak smile, hoping she takes comfort in the presence of his friends. "I promised we'd take her home, so let's get going, yeah?"
"He was just an asshole, and probably on the take for Donleg, so they're not going to be spending the night in the clan gaol - which will probably have its own consequences for us," Alierin replies, her thoughts once again turning to their employer. "It's good all three of you got out though," she adds, offering up Galain a short smile of reassurance.
Galain frowns at Alierin's words, but nods: "He had bribed some of the watch to look the other way, that's for sure."
She turns to Aeron. "Don't tell my father about any of this," she says, her voice still halfway between a request and a demand. "About Donleg, or Bagrus, or any of it. Alright? In fact, we should never say another word about what we... what happened tonight." In the moonlight, tears glisten in her eyes.
Aeron gives Galain a knowing look and nods. "Yeah, that's probably for the best. I won't tell your father, but promise me you won't just end up working for some other crook just like Donleg, alright?" It's easy to fall victim, but I hope she's learned her lesson now.
Alierin stays quiet as Aeron and Galain talk, not knowing anything about the woman's situation.
I'm sure he won't struggle to recruit Gerirl and Galain's replacements, she thinks. There's not exactly a shortage in the hovels of elves desperate to earn some coin.
"That's a stupid thing to promise," Galain answers. "You know how hard it is to find paying work in this city. Everyone does what they need to put food on the table. Besides, it's not like our fathers get paid anything for being on the Tribunal."
As you depart from the pier, a familiar face comes from the shadows — Roof Boy, who had slipped away earlier before you had brought the Watch.
"I was wondering where you went," Cymril says, crossing her arms in obvious annoyance.
The young orc's face is placid. "Keeping an eye out. If I could have done the job alone, they wouldn't have hired you. So, what happened? Will he and his crew hang?" He seems to notice Galain for the first time. He counts heads silently. "And who the fuck is this?"
"Seems unlikely," Alierin answers Roof Boy bluntly, ignoring his question on Galain. "Turns out Kiros' crew weren't the only smugglers in the Bay with Clan protection," she explains, hoping the complication will be enough to limit their further involvement.
Roof Boy frowns at Alierin, the scar over his mouth distorting into a the shape of a moon. "What? Say it straight. What happened? There's no way Donleg has the backing of the Clan. That's what I'm here for. What you're here for." He turns toward Galain again. "C'mon. Who are you? You're hardly the last elf to show up unannounced in this little army. But this is a pretty damned suspicious time for it to happen."
"No, I'm not — I worked for him. Donleg," the young woman responds. "Who are you?"
Roof Boy scoffs, shaking his head in either disbelief or disgust, or both. "Well, that's just grand. Did you lot tell everyone in his crew?"
"Yeah, I know..." Aeron responds glumly to Galain. "Just take care of yourself, okay?"
His heart jumps and he readies to defend himself and his friends as the figure emerges from the shadows, only letting down his guard once he sees it's a familiar one. After Alierin's own update, he chimes in. "They're down three now though."As long as Gerirl and Galain don't go crawling back."And Donleg said he was already down one tonight. And he's down a boat now. Half his operation is gone."
He rolls his eyes at Roof Boy's haughty display. He can complain when he does more than just skulking around."No, we didn't even know she was a part of this crew. But when Donleg made me take Gerirl's place, I had to save both my skin and hers. Not like we knew he was paying off the Clan guards."
"And maybe not THE Clan, but they've got ties to the guard at the very least," Alierin replies. "They knew a guard by name, Dregna, and hinted at having his captain on their take too," she adds. "That pretty much stopped any chance of them being arrested there and then. All things considered, half their operation isn't bad."
Roof Boy listens quietly as you explain your feats. "Half is better than none. That is better news," he admits. "Gerirl... her... then who's the third? Need to know what loose ends are still in play. Our employers will need details."
Galain shifts, glancing around. "Do I need to be here for this? Feels like I left one criminal organization to join another one."
"Then go," Roof Boy answers, unfazed. "And keep quiet unless you want to hang in the square."
"Gladly."
"I've got her," Cymril offers. "You guys stay here and sort this out."
"Thanks, cuz. I'm sorry for all of this again," Aeron says to Cymril and then Galain, giving them a pallid smile and a quick wave. He lets out a heavy sigh, frustrated at this night. I don't know if she'll ever forgive me, but she's alive and that's what matters.
"A man named Bagrus was the third. Donleg put him in a boat with her and I... and dealing with him was the only chance at escape." He frowns, the fading screams of the orc amidst desperate splashing still echoing in his mind. We had to do it. In that moment, two lives for a crooked one.
Alierin gives Cymril a parting nod as she leaves to escort Galain home.
Not the first smuggler we've killed, Alierin thinks, picturing the fight with Kiros and his crew in the Rajan Lumber warehouse. Hopefully we're free of this world now.
Sisera frowns at the sight of Galain, and her subsequent reaction to the night's events. Another whose life is full of hardship. This city is truly a heartless place, almost as heartless as the gods. But no, being here is still better than it was back home, even if I do not understand all the secrets and schemes. Too many people with too many goals and too much love of money, but at least we do not risk constant death from above. It is a small solace. Her frown turns to more of a scowl as the roof boy arrives and interrogates them on the frustrating and dangerous job they had just completed, once more finding his presence annoying.
"'Our employer'?" Sisera asks, at the young orc's wording. "Your employer, our favor. Job is done, so is 'employment.' You deal with clan."What does he think us, willing participants in these schemes? We have done what was asked of us, now they can leave us alone. Let us return to our lives unhindered by these inane dealings.
Roof Boy narrows his eyes at Sisera. "Hey, I didn't make you take this job, you know. Besides, I think you owe me a fucking thank-you for the hint about her brother," he says, gesturing toward Alierin. He takes a breath, straightening his posture and his attitude. "As for your involvement, sounds like what's done is done. I'll talk to our employer tonight, and I'll meet you outside Stout Hall in the morning, second bell."
He takes on a pensive look. "I get the feeling this Dregna goon is going to regret being involved in this. Might be more work coming my way, if you're not shy about a little bit of kidnapping. We'll talk tomorrow." The young orc turns to leave.
"You're right. Thank you, I do appreciate the heads up," Alierin says to Roof Boy, in a rare moment of sincerity.
"Tomorrow then," she adds as the orc takes his leave, ignoring the mention of extra work. Fuck Piatenka. She can do her own dirty work from now on.
"Let's head home," she says, turning to the others once Roof Boy is gone. "All in all tonight could have gone worse. I think we can chalk it up as a success."
"Yeah, home," Aeron echoes, the day's events gradually beginning to catch up with him now that it was all over. "Just make sure your brother doesn't end up back with Donleg, alright? It sounds like it's not over until Donleg is in the ground." He frowns, shaking his head at the exhausting criminal politics that seem to plague this city. If only more of our people had a chance at honest work, even if it's just random chores like we do half the time.
Growing weary in the evening hours now, you depart the broken and scorched docks of Southward, heading back toward the streets of Vozto. The district is mostly quiet save for the passing drunk or pack of urchins lurching past like a flock of cawing crows. You take Akame Bridge over the river delta. As you pass the edge of the Low Docks and approach the gravel path toward the Elvish Quarter, you catch sight of Gerirl who immediately jogs your way.
"Hey," he manages, catching his breath. "Cymril caught me up. Can't believe you got Galain out of there, Aeron." He gives you a thin smile, shaking his head with a look of exasperation. "Guess I'm out of a night job for now. But at least this way the others won't hang for Donleg's crimes. Right? It's not all bad."
Aeron gives Gerirl a punch in the arm, hard enough to hurt slightly but not enough to cause any real harm. "You could've told us she was working there too," he says, his words dripping with annoyance. He lets out a sigh. "But I'm glad the both of you are safe and out from under Donleg's thumb." He manages a meager smile, his tone one of sincerity.
"Just... promise me, and Alierin, that you'll be careful from now on. You're basically a brother to me too, you know."He may be an idiot, but he's family to Alierin so he's family to me.
