Saronn's Opportunity
Port Karn, Wharf District, Dawn
Saronn stood on the wooden planks of the wharf, shading her eyes from the rising sun. There was a light breeze coming from upriver, blowing out to sea. It carried the vegetal smells of the both the jungle and the expanses of tilled fields and pastures, mixing with the odors of fish, offal, and sewage that were, unfortunately, produced much nearer. The Long Bridge to Port Karn North stretched northward on her right, and she could see several wagons moving across it already. A multitude of vessels, both ships and boats, plied the river both towards and away from the sea. Two of the Long Bridge’s drawbridge sections were raised, allowing ships to pass through, their sails bellied out in the following wind, their oars shipped.
As she stood on the wharf, looking out over the water, the city came to life behind her. Indeed, it had started that process a couple of hours ago, predawn; ships come in at all hours, based upon the wind, currents, routes, and other, more esoteric reasons. She could hear dockworkers behind her, calling out orders and directions to each other as they went about their business.
Glancing over her shoulder, she could see the grey stone buildings with their red tiled roofs. Well, she could see the three-story warehouses, mostly. Here and there she could see the occasional tower, or steeple to a church to one or more of the gods. Port Karn’s narrow, twisted streets were centuries old, originally an Orc settlement, but one of the first conquests of the Tondene Imperium. Forty percent or so of its current population was Orc. Their psychological tendencies made for interesting evenings at the local taverns, if one liked barroom brawls. Fortunately, fatalities were rare; a lot of the bloodthirstiness was “bred out” of the Orcs in the Imperium, although that was an oversimplification. They still got mad easily; they just stopped short of actually killing anyone. Bruises, cuts, contusions, and the occasional broken bone, yes, but killings were rare.
It was, as usual, hot. Even this early in the morning, it seemed to her to be overly warm. There were a few clouds in the sky, although the morning haze helped slightly. But it was the high humidity that bothered her the most. The clouds of seagulls swarming around the wharfs didn’t seem to mind it though. They were finding all kinds of goodies scattered across the docks and in the water as the first sets of fishermen came in with their morning catches.
To the north-northwest, about a mile and a half away was the expansive Alystan Naval Base, situated on one of the islands that dotted the river, which was ten miles wide here at the mouth where it met the sea. The base’s wharf seemed to have nearly as many docks as Port Karn did, although she knew that was hyperbole. She did see almost two dozen moored military galleys, fuzzy in the haze, and a host of smaller ships and boats moored there. The docks at the base were almost always busy, and this morning was no exception. Dockworkers appeared to be loading supplies onto several of the galleys, but she was unable to discern what those supplies were.
The shadow of a crane swept over her; a large, two masted cog had arrived sometime last night, and the stevedores were unloading the cargo onto wagons, presumably to be taken to one or more of the warehouses that dotted the Wharf District. The momentary relief from the sun was welcome, but all too short as it moved past her.
She was a thief, although she preferred the term “opportunistic merchant”. She was a member of Redmane Mercantile, one of the many thieves’ guilds in Port Karn, and, given her penchant for communicating with people, was often the face person that people not of her guild interacted with. In this case, she was going to be interacting with a courier from the naval base. Sharpbeak Firecrest was one of the base’s couriers, the only person of the sky folk at the base, and her source for information about the movements of the naval vessels.
And he was late. She scanned the sky above the base, looking for his winged form. He got paid well to let her know where and when those galleys were to patrol, and she had other things to do besides stand here watching ships come in.
She tapped her foot impatiently. That didn’t seem to help anything, so she started to pace, back and forth, from one quay to the other. After ten minutes of this, she noticed a dark dot rise from the collection of buildings that made up the administration center of the naval base. It rose, circling, then arrowed out away from the island and toward Port Karn.
It was a large, raptor-like being, with a twenty foot wingspan. It soared closer, barely moving its wings, moving at nearly fifty miles an hour. The aarakocra made the two mile trip in less than three minutes. “He may be late, but at least he is fast,” Saronn thought, as she watched him come in toward the wharfs. She gazed up at him as he circled over the docks, presumably looking for her. She waved, hoping it would get his attention. She could see him dip a wing, dumping lift, and he spiraled down, his wings cupping the air as they slowed him, and he landed lightly on his taloned feet. He folded his wings back, his wing-hands busying themselves with his courier pouch.
“You’re late, flyboy,” Saronn accused.
Sharpbeak cocked his head, looking at her with one eye, then the other. “Yes. It could not be helped. I had duties to perform, before I could come out to the city and see you.” He pulled a folded document from his courier bag, and handed it to her.
She opened it; it hadn’t been sealed, just folded. Glancing at it, she saw it was a list of ships with a timetable: embarking and travel times for several military vessels. It was what she had been looking for. With this information, she could now schedule some…deliveries of certain commodities. She looked up from the page, and at the feathered being in front of her. “This is good. Thank you.”
The aarakocra nodded in acknowledgement. “If there is nothing else, I need to get on with things.”
Saronn shook her head, “No, we have what we need. We’ll be in touch.”
Sharpbeak Firecrest leapt into the sky, beating his wings and kicking up dust. Saronn coughed and turned away, heading back to the offices of Redmane Mercantile.
Redmane Mercantile’s main offices were located in the Five Meadows District, the largest of the five districts within the old walls, along with the districts of Old Town, Merchant’s Heath, New Water, and the Wharf. Saronn walked down the narrow Skyfire Street, made shadowy by the early hour and the two to three story buildings that crowded their upper stories over the street. She had to dodge around wheelbarrows and wagons, not to mention pedestrians. She emerged onto First Street, one of the five main thoroughfares of the walled part of the city. Stepping around some fresh road apples left by one of the myriad equines moving up and down the street, she crossed the cobblestoned road, continuing on Skyfire Street until it ended at a T-intersection. Heading to her right, away from the rising sun, she took the next left. Halfway down the street were the offices of Redmane Mercantile.
The offices were in a grey stone building that was mostly warehouse, although the front half of the building was two floors of offices. The rest of the building was the warehouse, where perfectly legitimate commodities, products, and supplies were kept until they were moved to their final destinations. Well, perfectly legitimate to her, anyway. At the moment, it was mostly bolts of riyal cloth, a finely woven, very soft fabric used for lightweight clothing. But there was also a shipment made up of a dozen jars of honey, some golden tiger wood harvested from the the jungles to the south of the city, and a strongbox filled with gems hidden within the wood bundles. With luck, they wouldn’t have to pay the taxes on those.
Gems were worth a lot of money, and the local governmental bodies liked to get their share. Not only were they the playthings of the nobility, they were also useful to mages…and thus mage guilds, who coveted them for use as powerstones. Most of the gems in that box were useless for that purpose, being less then a carat and thus not large enough to hold any mana. The bigger ones, though….Even though the most common gemstones used for powerstones were quartz crystals (their size being the most important feature, since the larger the carat size, the more mana it could potentially store), the rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and diamonds had more importance socially.
The nobility coveted them as visible signs of their wealth, power, and influence. Mages scoffed, focusing more on raw power than on their gemstone fashion sense. The larger stones were likely to be sold locally, in the city, to the higher status mage guilds. The smaller stones would likely be sold to various tailors, leatherworkers, and milliners for use in apparel for the more well-to-do. All under the table and away from prying tax collector eyes.
She went upstairs, to her office, where she sat at her wooden desk and took out the paper she got from Firecrest. She read it again, then opened one of the ledgers that was stacked untidily on the corner of her desk. She started comparing notes and ship movements, looking for openings and opportunities.
Saronn stood on the wooden planks of the wharf, shading her eyes from the rising sun. There was a light breeze coming from upriver, blowing out to sea. It carried the vegetal smells of the both the jungle and the expanses of tilled fields and pastures, mixing with the odors of fish, offal, and sewage that were, unfortunately, produced much nearer. The Long Bridge to Port Karn North stretched northward on her right, and she could see several wagons moving across it already. A multitude of vessels, both ships and boats, plied the river both towards and away from the sea. Two of the Long Bridge’s drawbridge sections were raised, allowing ships to pass through, their sails bellied out in the following wind, their oars shipped.
As she stood on the wharf, looking out over the water, the city came to life behind her. Indeed, it had started that process a couple of hours ago, predawn; ships come in at all hours, based upon the wind, currents, routes, and other, more esoteric reasons. She could hear dockworkers behind her, calling out orders and directions to each other as they went about their business.
Glancing over her shoulder, she could see the grey stone buildings with their red tiled roofs. Well, she could see the three-story warehouses, mostly. Here and there she could see the occasional tower, or steeple to a church to one or more of the gods. Port Karn’s narrow, twisted streets were centuries old, originally an Orc settlement, but one of the first conquests of the Tondene Imperium. Forty percent or so of its current population was Orc. Their psychological tendencies made for interesting evenings at the local taverns, if one liked barroom brawls. Fortunately, fatalities were rare; a lot of the bloodthirstiness was “bred out” of the Orcs in the Imperium, although that was an oversimplification. They still got mad easily; they just stopped short of actually killing anyone. Bruises, cuts, contusions, and the occasional broken bone, yes, but killings were rare.
It was, as usual, hot. Even this early in the morning, it seemed to her to be overly warm. There were a few clouds in the sky, although the morning haze helped slightly. But it was the high humidity that bothered her the most. The clouds of seagulls swarming around the wharfs didn’t seem to mind it though. They were finding all kinds of goodies scattered across the docks and in the water as the first sets of fishermen came in with their morning catches.
To the north-northwest, about a mile and a half away was the expansive Alystan Naval Base, situated on one of the islands that dotted the river, which was ten miles wide here at the mouth where it met the sea. The base’s wharf seemed to have nearly as many docks as Port Karn did, although she knew that was hyperbole. She did see almost two dozen moored military galleys, fuzzy in the haze, and a host of smaller ships and boats moored there. The docks at the base were almost always busy, and this morning was no exception. Dockworkers appeared to be loading supplies onto several of the galleys, but she was unable to discern what those supplies were.
The shadow of a crane swept over her; a large, two masted cog had arrived sometime last night, and the stevedores were unloading the cargo onto wagons, presumably to be taken to one or more of the warehouses that dotted the Wharf District. The momentary relief from the sun was welcome, but all too short as it moved past her.
She was a thief, although she preferred the term “opportunistic merchant”. She was a member of Redmane Mercantile, one of the many thieves’ guilds in Port Karn, and, given her penchant for communicating with people, was often the face person that people not of her guild interacted with. In this case, she was going to be interacting with a courier from the naval base. Sharpbeak Firecrest was one of the base’s couriers, the only person of the sky folk at the base, and her source for information about the movements of the naval vessels.
And he was late. She scanned the sky above the base, looking for his winged form. He got paid well to let her know where and when those galleys were to patrol, and she had other things to do besides stand here watching ships come in.
She tapped her foot impatiently. That didn’t seem to help anything, so she started to pace, back and forth, from one quay to the other. After ten minutes of this, she noticed a dark dot rise from the collection of buildings that made up the administration center of the naval base. It rose, circling, then arrowed out away from the island and toward Port Karn.
It was a large, raptor-like being, with a twenty foot wingspan. It soared closer, barely moving its wings, moving at nearly fifty miles an hour. The aarakocra made the two mile trip in less than three minutes. “He may be late, but at least he is fast,” Saronn thought, as she watched him come in toward the wharfs. She gazed up at him as he circled over the docks, presumably looking for her. She waved, hoping it would get his attention. She could see him dip a wing, dumping lift, and he spiraled down, his wings cupping the air as they slowed him, and he landed lightly on his taloned feet. He folded his wings back, his wing-hands busying themselves with his courier pouch.
“You’re late, flyboy,” Saronn accused.
Sharpbeak cocked his head, looking at her with one eye, then the other. “Yes. It could not be helped. I had duties to perform, before I could come out to the city and see you.” He pulled a folded document from his courier bag, and handed it to her.
She opened it; it hadn’t been sealed, just folded. Glancing at it, she saw it was a list of ships with a timetable: embarking and travel times for several military vessels. It was what she had been looking for. With this information, she could now schedule some…deliveries of certain commodities. She looked up from the page, and at the feathered being in front of her. “This is good. Thank you.”
The aarakocra nodded in acknowledgement. “If there is nothing else, I need to get on with things.”
Saronn shook her head, “No, we have what we need. We’ll be in touch.”
Sharpbeak Firecrest leapt into the sky, beating his wings and kicking up dust. Saronn coughed and turned away, heading back to the offices of Redmane Mercantile.
Redmane Mercantile’s main offices were located in the Five Meadows District, the largest of the five districts within the old walls, along with the districts of Old Town, Merchant’s Heath, New Water, and the Wharf. Saronn walked down the narrow Skyfire Street, made shadowy by the early hour and the two to three story buildings that crowded their upper stories over the street. She had to dodge around wheelbarrows and wagons, not to mention pedestrians. She emerged onto First Street, one of the five main thoroughfares of the walled part of the city. Stepping around some fresh road apples left by one of the myriad equines moving up and down the street, she crossed the cobblestoned road, continuing on Skyfire Street until it ended at a T-intersection. Heading to her right, away from the rising sun, she took the next left. Halfway down the street were the offices of Redmane Mercantile.
The offices were in a grey stone building that was mostly warehouse, although the front half of the building was two floors of offices. The rest of the building was the warehouse, where perfectly legitimate commodities, products, and supplies were kept until they were moved to their final destinations. Well, perfectly legitimate to her, anyway. At the moment, it was mostly bolts of riyal cloth, a finely woven, very soft fabric used for lightweight clothing. But there was also a shipment made up of a dozen jars of honey, some golden tiger wood harvested from the the jungles to the south of the city, and a strongbox filled with gems hidden within the wood bundles. With luck, they wouldn’t have to pay the taxes on those.
Gems were worth a lot of money, and the local governmental bodies liked to get their share. Not only were they the playthings of the nobility, they were also useful to mages…and thus mage guilds, who coveted them for use as powerstones. Most of the gems in that box were useless for that purpose, being less then a carat and thus not large enough to hold any mana. The bigger ones, though….Even though the most common gemstones used for powerstones were quartz crystals (their size being the most important feature, since the larger the carat size, the more mana it could potentially store), the rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and diamonds had more importance socially.
The nobility coveted them as visible signs of their wealth, power, and influence. Mages scoffed, focusing more on raw power than on their gemstone fashion sense. The larger stones were likely to be sold locally, in the city, to the higher status mage guilds. The smaller stones would likely be sold to various tailors, leatherworkers, and milliners for use in apparel for the more well-to-do. All under the table and away from prying tax collector eyes.
She went upstairs, to her office, where she sat at her wooden desk and took out the paper she got from Firecrest. She read it again, then opened one of the ledgers that was stacked untidily on the corner of her desk. She started comparing notes and ship movements, looking for openings and opportunities.
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