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Smugglers, Part I
Posted: Fri Nov 25, 2022 5:28 pm
by Masagh
35th Day of Ash, 122nd Year of the Age of Steel
The skies were blessedly clear as Masagh clambered out of the well into the Triforge Square above. The air was chilly but did not blow around them. The moon shown in a half crescent above, illuminating the world in silver light.
Sabrione growled softly as she clambered over the side and rolled to her feet. She looked around with narrow eyes, also scanning the rooftops. “Great night for a bit of skullduggery.” She turned and glanced at Riah, they last to leave the well. The newest member had been brought along to give her more experience above in the streets. Masagh was well aware this mission was intended to be a training one for her, but he hoped to get a bit of flying practice in as well.
He needed to master the skill if he was going to be able to navigate the gusty northern coast and find that damned ruin he had been obsessing over. He moved and helped Riah out of the well and pulled her over into the deeper shadows.
“Weaponmaster.” Masagh whispered, his voice grating in a gravel rasp. “Perhaps I could scout in flying form, give us a more complete picturel.” He suggested casually.
“We already know they’re at the docks.” Sabrione said, narrowing her eyes. “Some fences in the bay district up Northside have been smuggling crude wands through the Grey River somehow. We know which shops they’re coming out of.”
Masagh shrugged. “I just meant maybe some tactical information about the situation tonight specifically.” He sighed at the look on her face. “Look I wanted to practice my flight. It isn’t great yet and I want to improve.”
Sabrione snorted. “Why didn’t you just say so.” She said sardonically. “Go ahead. Riah and I can make our way there. Don’t go too far ahead, circle back if you lose sight of us.” She ordered.
“Right, wouldn’t want any patrols getting the better of you.” Masagh teased softly, fishing in his belt pouch for the pterincus totem.
As he brought it out Sabrione rolled her eyes and ushered Riah closer. As the Weaponmaster began to debrief Riah, Masagh conducted his transformation. By the time they had finished and were ready to set out, Masagh was a small winged reptilian, pale and pathetic looking. The form was far from pathetic though.
Masagh trotted forward on the stout legs and flapped his wings to take off. He set off down the alley and felt the familiar initial jolting as his Animus altered body gained altitude. Then suddenly he was bursting above the line of grooves and Sabrione and Riah were diminishing to the size of toys. Masagh caught a gentle front of air and felt his wings stabilize out. He stretched them out and settled into a wide circling arc.
When he first took the Animus Rune he hadn’t wanted it. He had thought something like Negation would be better tactically. While he still planned to bully his mother into initiating him into Negation he had grown to appreciate the great utility of the Animus Rune. This form alone promised a much less intensive form of scouting and travel than the slipspace. While flying would take longer, it was less costly on his aether reserves.
The city splayed out below him, houses lit in warm yellow from within. He could see the bay, dark and glistening in the moonlight, in the distance. While he was more comfortable now with the form and the flight, Masagh was still nervous to fly too high. He circled low enough to make out his two companions.
Masagh watched with a careful red eye as the two knights darted from shadow to shadow. As they made their stealthy way down the street he followed along as best he could from above. While he could now stay aloft, his movements were belabored and his flight slow. He hadn’t yet learned the trick of gliding with speed, or how to conserve his strength when beating his wings. So often Masagh would have to spiral down to land and rest his wings mid-flight.
They were hard to keep tabs on, moving as quietly and in shadows. Masagh was ablest keep occasional sight of them because he knew his sister so well and the path she would take, and because he knew their destination. His flight became easier as he found another front of air that he was able to glide along on. His wings beat occasionally and fed more speed into his pace. This efficiency was what he had seen many birds and pterincus maintain as they flew over the city and hunted the small vermin that collected there.
It was a frustratingly essential skill for any flyer. He knew this because he had attempted the art and found himself lacking that skill. Now, however, he was gliding like the rest of them. Masagh only wished he could figure out how it had happened. Nonetheless, the undead pterincus angled towards the bay and followed behind the figures of Sabrione and Riah below.
Eventually they came to the docks district where the select group of fences were supposedly smuggling goods along the Grey River and flooding their much needed market. While not strictly a threat to the well-being of House Creth, a new source of magical wands in the city’s underbelly could remove the need for alliance with them for the goblins. That would have dire circumstances indeed.
So sabotage was the name of the game tonight. Masagh scanned the crowded neighborhoods and sprawling warehouse district of the bay. This was the capital of an Empire, and trade was its lifeblood. The bay was huge. Sabrione and Riah were just entering the dock districts below and he saw her pale claw rise and beckon to him.
The Animus tucked his wings in and dove down to meet her. The rush of wind around him and the lurch in his guts told his instincts to extend his wings again, but Masagh refused them. He let himself slip down to about twenty feet above the street and then stuck his legs out and flapped the wings. Landing somewhat more gracefully than usual in front of Sabrione he clicked his pterincus beak at her.
Sabrione crouched before him and peered down both ways of the street they waited in. “Okay, fences who it might be are…” She pulled a sheet of parchment out of the belt pouch and unrolled it with one hand. “Red building on the north corner of Salt Pier Street and Shipwright Way, says it belongs to a lady called Gerta. Then there’s Old Grok’s warehouse, you know the one along the Gray with that stupid ship’s prow above it? The mermaid with the tits far too large? Yea.” Sabrione shook her head in disgust at the memory. He clicked his beak twice to let her know he remembered. “We’re going to make our way to Gerta’s spot first. Gi9ve us a heads up if you see anything.”
Masagh moved out into the street and shuffled into his running start. Then with a great burst of effort and flapping of wings, he was aloft again. Rising above the houses he angled himself in the direction of Gerta’s shop. He had never been there but he knew the city relatively well, having lived there for two hundred years. What was more, he had a uniquely strong mental image of the cityscape thanks to his recent outings as a flying beast.
So it was with confidence he made his way over to the shop. He was gliding above the rooftops and warehouses, looking for the distinctive red panels of Gerta’s shop when something caught his eye. Lights flickering in the bay. That in and of itself was not peculiar, but it had been much larger than was typical.
He angled himself towards the darkly glittering water and gazed down at the ships arrayed there. Dark masts reached for the sky above and the decks reflected the moonlight to some extent. Each ship had a pair of lanterns at least at their prow and stern, with larger ones hanging watch lanterns from masts as well. He could see no sign of the light that had caught his eye.
Re: Smugglers, Part I
Posted: Fri Nov 25, 2022 5:28 pm
by Masagh
Then it was there. A low ring of orange light flickering up on the deck of a ship anchored out in the bay. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished. What could that have been? Masagh hadn’t seen anything of the sort before. It was too odd to not investigate, he decided. Masagh veered out over the bay and towards the ship in question, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as he glided out over the water. It was not so bad anymore, but he had a certain trepidation flying over slid ground that was not present when comfortably over water.
As he approached the ship he saw that they had doused their lanterns. Circling low and watching the deck for movement, he gave a jolt of surprise when the deck lit up once again. It was not a lantern or a fire, but some sort of magical circle. Masagh flapped down and landed on one of the high booms attached to the mast, folding his wings as silently as he could.
Looking down upon the moonlit deck his heart leapt as he saw a crowd of sailors there. At least a dozen crowded around what must be their captain. The woman wore a trifold hat and a long coat of darkest green. She knelt and pressed her hand against the deck of the ship. Masagh saw that upon the skin of her hand there was a faintly glowing design, a Cardinal Rune. This sailor was some sort of personal mage. As he watched, Masagh saw that the captain’s rune sent rivulets of power across the planks of the deck. They formed a ring about the hand and began to glow brighter. As the mage stood and stepped back the space lit up with the same orange light. It became a pool of the light, gently swirling. Then a great sea turtle emerged from within. It was a sea turtle in shape only, Masagh found as he watched the thing rise into the air and float there contentedly.
It’s dark cerulean shell was ornate with seafood green designs upon it and the head was horned with coral-like projections. The tail was longer than the body and seemed to carry a whip of watery liquid constantly swirling around it. The turtle’s eyes glowed a uniform white and it stared expectantly at the captain. None of the crew reacted to this sight, telling Masagh that they had all seen it happen before. Indeed, the only reason a ship in port would have doused their lanterns and stayed this far out in the bay was for nefarious deeds.
As Masagh watched, a sailor brought the captain a bowl and bucket. She set the bowl down at the edge of the circle, which was quickly dimming to nothing. She drew a flashing blade across her forearm and let the dark liquid drip into the bowl. Then a sailor fished a ladle of what Masagh suspected was seawater from the bucket and let it drop into the bowl. The turtle spirit nosed it curiously. Then then thing bent its head to lap at the contents contentedly.
Masagh watched as the captain nodded to the crew and made a gesture beckoning them forward. The sailors around her threw a netting over the sea turtle and began to strap it around the thing’s shell. Masagh thought it was a betrayal, they had summoned the spirit and tricked it and now would use it for some other purpose. But he was surprised when they began attaching air-tight wooden cases to the netting, one on each side.
Then the turtle turned in the air and dove off the side of the ship as though it were swimming in the sea. It lower into the water and set out towards the city. Masagh’s mind raced. What was going on here? This summoner was making the costly sacrifice of her blood and aether to have spirits bring her goods to shore rather than simply dock and do it herself? Masagh made the split decision to take off and follow above the spirit turtle.
As he dropped off the boom and spread his wings he saw the captain and her crew were preparing another summoning. She must have been a very strong summoner to bring and contract multiple spirits of that size for such a task. Ahead and below him the turtle spirit submerged itself under the wave, briefly creating a wake, then dipping under the surface. There it sped off directly towards the gaping head of the Gray River. Masagh dropped lower and flapped after the spirit.
Suspicions about the true culprit of the smuggling began to form as it became increasingly apparent the turtle spirit was heading directly for the Gray River. As it approached the head of the river it dipped low, letting the sea water mask its presence. Masagh continued on, flying over the Gel’Grandal Police barges and boats stationed in the mouth of the river for customs. They weren’t stopping any ships because there were no ships attempting to enter the river at night, but their lantern were lit and he could see the bobbing lights of watchmen walking along their lengths.
Ingenious. The captain had found a way to smuggle goods under the river and enter the city proper without the customs office knowing. Continuing on his hunch, Masagh flew over the mouth of the river and the security barges. He followed the river at the same pace he had been flying. A few hundred feet along, the faint glow of the turtle’s shell reemerged from the depths. It was still moving along the river.
By this time he was sure Sabrione was worrying over his absence. She was undoubtedly weighing the options of going looking for him or continuing with her raid on Greta’s shop. He couldn’t veer off to find her and report before finding the destination of the spirit though. So he beat his wings and kept on the thing’s trail. It was not going far though.
It was only a few quick minutes and the thing angled north. The spirit lapped at the water, moving swiftly and easily through the murky river. It slowed as it reached the river edge. The banks of the river were walled with stone and a myriad of run down docks and tiny piers jutted out into the dirty water. Each lead up to some warehouse or work yard. Masagh had once broken into one such building that was home to a gang of rat Rathari. That was many years ago and he had never seen hide nor hair of the things since. But the river way was full of similarly nefarious characters, especially this deep in the Northside of Gel’Grandal.
He circled above in wide, lazy arcs watching the spirit approach a particular warehouse. The thing rose up out of the water and swam through the air. It opened its mouth and a heavy stream of water shot out with force, striking the gate that lead down to the battered pier. The gate immediately opened outward and three humanoids stepped out. As Masagh watched they began to strip the netting on the spirit’s back of the pair of chests. Then one of them lifted a leather sack and tethered it neatly to the sea turtle’s shell.
Masagh had found the smugglers, and how they had outsmarted the customs guards at the mouth of the river.
The pterincus turned in the air, angling back towards Gerta’s red paneled shop. Perhaps if he was quick about informing Sabrione he’d be able to lead her to witness the operation herself. He moved as swiftly as he dared, landing in front of Greta’s Shop. The door was ajar and a faint illumination glowed from within. He waddled on the short legs over to the door and pushed his way inside clumsily. His wings dragged on the ground as he flopped inside.
When through the door and inside he heard Sabrione’s harsh voice issuing orders to Riah somewhere within. The room seemed massive to the form of the correspondingly tiny pterincus. Cluttered shelves of what looked to him to be junk blocked the source of the light and of Sabrione’s voice. Masagh could see no one else inside, so he released his Animus invocation.
As the shapeshifter returned to his ghoulish shape, he saw Sabrione’s head twist around the corner of a shelf.
“Damn, Masagh you had me worried!” She hissed, stepping out and strolling up to him while he finished his transformation. “You idiot, you never found us. I had to make the decision to check the place out without you.”
“Sabrione, wait.” Masagh said as his arm twisted back into place, finalizing his transformation. “I found the smugglers, it’s not Greta or Old Grok.” He groaned and flexed his neck to either side. “They’re smuggling directly off the ship.”
“Who? How?” Her decayed face contorted in confusion. “Parthena’s spy said it had to be coming through the dock districts.
“Yes, because they are using the Gray River.” Masagh explained. “A mage is summoning water spirits on her deck in the bay and contracting them to smuggle the wands under the customs barges. There’s a warehouse in the Northside that’s taking them. I followed one.”
Sabrione blinked at him. It was a completely different situation than they had thought. What had been a mundane smuggling ring to be put down was suddenly a ship full of sailors headed by a reasonably powerful mage. Riah appeared around the corner, tucking a crowbar back into the satchel across her back. “What’s up?”
“Change of plans.” Sabrione barked. “Masagh, can you find this warehouse again?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then we’re going to pay them a visit.” Sabrione said ominously.
Re: Smugglers, Part I
Posted: Wed Dec 21, 2022 5:52 pm
by Rune
R E V I E W
Lore:
Flying: Tucking wings to dive
Flying: Gliding on a clear night
Flying: Landing on a ship
Flying: Matching pace with a sea creature
Stealth: Providing overwatch
Stealth: Flying at night
Points: 8, may be used for Animus
Injuries/Ailments: None
Loot: None
Notes: What a fun idea, it is nice to see people writing magic into the world outside themselves.