Bloodsword: War of the Leaf

Hammer Rising

The hatchet faced Mardish elf frowned as he relaxed against a big dock piling, his dark eyes scanning the ragged looking warehouses that lined the stone-covered shoreline directly opposite the dock he stood on, in this forgotten portion of Gan Tarol’s original dock yards.  Behind him, at the far end of the long dock, bobbing with the morning’s surging surf was a two masted sailing ship, with her sails furled tightly.  On the dock beside her was a tall pile of supplies that her crew was quickly loading into her hold.   

Yawning sharply, the shirtless, baggy-breeched Mardish shifted his bare-foot stance and resumed his vigilant scan of the shore.  Just in time to catch sight of a large human making his way awkwardly out of the shadows.

  “Noris!”  The Mardish snorted softly under his breath, but was content not to move from his relaxed post while the overweight man made his way carefully down the ladder and onto the dock.

Finally, breathing heavily, Noris was facing the Mardish sentry.

  “Well?”  The Mardish asked softly, still not moving as he gazed heavy lidded over at the fat man.

  “The Walker is in port, off-loading ore and smelted metal.”  Noris reported between gasping breaths.

  “Oh?”  The Mardish replied softly, his face carefully blank.  “And this is supposed to mean something to me, Noris?”

  “C’mon, Sark.  You know that the Hammer wanted to know when the Walker was in port next.”   

Pursing his lips thoughtfully, Sark let his dark eyes examine Noris’ thick features for a moment.  Then, with smoothness born of a finely tuned physique, he pushed away from the piling and began to walk across the weathered and splintering dock towards the ship sitting at her moorage.

  “What cargo is Kaluus taking on, spy?”  He asked over his shoulder as he walked.

  “Precious metals in bars, bound for Mar Dinas.”  Noris shouted back, shifting his bulk uneasily from side to side.  He never liked it when Sark left him waiting in the open like this.

  “Good.”  Sark yelled in return, now almost twenty paces away.  “You can return to your hovel in the city.  The captain will be contacting you shortly about your finder’s fee!”   

Almost as soon as he dismissed the big man, Sark pushed any thought of Noris out of his mind and focused on the task at hand.  Indeed the captain of the vessel that now bobbed only a short 30 paces away had wanted to know when the rich, and seemingly charmed Cloudwalker and her equally charmed captain next came to port.

The Walker had led many such vessels on many a chase through the eastern waters of the Meridian only to elude them at the last moment and make good their escape.  Or, on the odd occasion, Kaluus had let his pursuers actually catch him only to cut them to ribbons with his superior manpower and weaponry.  Still, the Cloudwalker was a rich prize and the captain of the Dawn Princess, the vessel that now lay before the Mardish sailor, would dearly like to claim it.  And, as first mate, it was Sark’s duty and dubious ‘pleasure’ to tell Captain Eineas Lot, known to all as the Hammer, that the prize was now within grasp!   

Ducking underneath a mass of foodstuffs being lifted via hand crane in a section of cargo netting, Sark nodded a greeting to the elvish crewmen laboring beside the ship, a mixed bag of Solavar, Mardish and various Freeholder races.  He then vaulted onto the rickety gangplank that led up unto the Princess’ mid-deck.  Leaping quickly to the top of the plank, Sark jumped lightly down onto the deck and padded over the greasy-feeling, grime-covered deck boards towards the stern and the captain’s quarters.

Set into the raised stern, Lot’s quarters weren’t all that much larger than the crew’s quarters below decks, but he wasn’t required to share it with anybody.  Captaincy did have some perks.