The Old City

0.20: Undesirable Findings

The Harbor of Soran, four o'clock in the afternoon

Garam's hand slipped into the wooden crate she was leaning against, wrapped around something slimy inside and pulled out a ten-inch trout. A snap of her fingers created a quick flame that cooked it perfectly, and she bit into the fresh meat, skin and all, while scanning the docks.

The goings on of the docks were routine. At this time of day, most of the cargo had been unloaded into one of the three dozen warehouses along the north shore. Those burly dockhands whose thick arms transported enormous boxes had gone home or to their other jobs, while new men and women came to identify, sort, and distribute the goods to their final destinations. Warehouses one through eight were already empty, since the merchandise meant for the Grand Bazaar had to be processed well before sunup, but the other buildings were abuzz with people carrying scrolls and tags to label whether items had been taxed, emptied, required further examination, or were ready for their final destination.

Relia walked through the muck looking for anybody who seemed overly anxious by her giant ax or demeanor, but the Harbormaster was a hard man and harder trainer. These folks knew better than to invite trouble and delay the processing.

The bird continued its search from above, watching for anything out of the ordinary that might escape the two on the ground. His keen eye saw everybody and everything that passed below. He even saw through some crates thanks to charms Garam had placed on him.

Interesting items flowed into the Bay of Soran every day. Sometimes it was a delicacy from the deep, or perhaps a spice once thought extinct; exquisite gems often found homes in this city, sought after by the elites who lived in the Upper Rings, as did the most fashionable clothing and magical items of the highest order.

Occasionally, though, the most interesting things that entered the city were people. A dignitary from a faraway nation, come to visit the Ringed City, or even a renown mage wishing to study those majestic barriers protecting the city from enemies foreign.

On this afternoon, unknown to any of the workers and observed solely by Garam's eagle and she herself, twelve mages lay in wait within the bottom of one massive crate, seemingly hidden in the corner of the eighteenth warehouse. A simple insignia was printed on the face of this crate in bloodred ink, and this mark kept all the sorters and distributors away: a lotus with eight points.

"We have a problem," Garam whispered. Relia shimmered to her without question, and they walked away without notice. "Crimson Lotus has imported mercenaries. I counted a dozen in one crate and there must be more in other shipments."

"Do you think the two who fought Granada are these mercs?" Relia asked.

"Eliminatin' one of our strongest fighters makes sense, but the timing doesn't. I haven't heard a thing about this, which means the operation is completely secret, as few people as possible know about it. They wouldn't jeopardize the element of surprise just to injure Granada. Also, the Enforcer said those two helped out some kid beforehand. That doesn't sound like a mercenary.

"No, I think we have two different groups at play. Crimson Lotus is about to make a big move, and so are these other two. I don't like this. There are too many movin' parts. That bastard head of the Crimson Lotus has laid low for so many years, just takin' the top off his districts...why would he move now?"

"We must tell Lucien. If this is not the first, but the last shipment of fighters, then their attack could begin any day. If they are all military mages, then we need to prepare."

If they are all military mages, thought Garam, then we will not stand a chance. It may be better to get ahead of this and switch sides... could Lucien ever truly defeat the head of the Crimson Lotus? Lucien is strong, but that man is a monster. This is why we took in Granada, but if even the giant cannot withstand these oncomin' forces, what hope have we?

"We must learn more. You make a good point. If there are not one dozen but one hundred soldiers of that caliber, we need to know immediately. Let's follow them and figure out where they congregate."

Relia nodded, recognizing immediately the wisdom in Garam's plan. "If the situation turns for the worse, one of us can break off and alert the others. In the meantime, we wait."

***

The Treehouse, the next morning

"You can't go back to the docks today," Marcus argued. "They're lookin' for us and while I don't have any connections besides the two of you, you've been at the docks every day for the last few years. People know your face, even if you haven't interacted with them too much."

"I have to work," Seneca argued. "And we can't stay here all day. Not movin' is as dangerous as movin' too early."

"Listen to me." He motioned for Seneca and Angelica to sit. "Now that we have some true privacy there are things I must tell you. You know I want to save Soran, to make it a better place, but we have a problem. I would have been content buildin' up forces in the First Ring slowly, accumulatin' respect and resources, but we don't have time. My voyage home gave me a kick in the ass. Do you recall what my ship was carryin'?"

Seneca furrowed his eyebrows in recollection. "It looked like papyrus scrolls and southern spices."

"Oh yes, it carried those things. But it carried a secret cargo as well. The captain told me about it one night at cards, so drunk his tongue slipped. He said he was helpin' to change the fabric of the Continent. His ship carried soldiers and mages. Brought them in a dozen at a time, he said, for weeks. And he wasn't the only one. Somebody is buildin' an army inside the First Ring, and nobody is prepared."

Seneca gave him a dark look as a cloud rolled over his face. "This sounds like war. Even if we had a gang or our own army, we would only have domestic militants. If these are trained soldiers, even the gangs of Soran, even the Enforcers of the First Ring won't put up a fight."

Angelica put a hand on Seneca's shoulder to calm him. "If the First Ring burns, the Senate will deploy the Second and Third Ring's Enforcers or even the military to defend it. This happened once, while you were both in the last war. Those days of occupation were some of the worst from those days, and there were many bad days. We cannot let this get to that point."

"I don't intend to," Marcus agreed. "That must have been very hard. We came to towns under occupation along the coast and each was a wasteland by the time we got there. I'm amazed Soran is still the same afterward."

"What can we do, then?"

"I put the first step into motion two days ago. I spent a long time experimenting with Concealment Magic. It's not my forte but after so long I can get by. There was a new shipment of soldiers the morning we fought Granada, when I met Seneca down by the docks. I confess, I was not only there to look for you, my friend. I found it and disarmed some of the charms that kept its contents from view. My hope is that someone will find them and report them – or better yet, kill them – so that they won't pose a problem and the Harbormaster will be forced to increase security at the docks.

"Why didn't you report them yourself?" Angelica asked.

"I only want to pick one fight at a time. I would prefer those at the docks forget me and sort this out with the Enforcers. Ideally this also keeps them off our back while we grow our strength."

"What if they don't find them in time. If there are so many soldiers, they won't all be at the docks. There will be one or two centralized locations where they gather, and maybe a handful of errant buildings to launch guerilla tactics. They must be found early and interrogated."

"We can't do anything about the first shipment. It's truly in the hands of the dockworkers and Enforcers."

"But!" Angelica interjected, cut off by Marcus's knowing look.

"But...I do know where one of their hideouts is."