The sun was a dim, distant light over the dark lands, casting great shadows from the Breccian divide westwards forbearingly.
As Aufhocker oversaw the loading of crates filled with ashen-steel bars onto his iron-clad sloop, the "StormFisker," the reflection of a long-bearded "Grey" Dwarf came into his pale, pearl-like eyes. A grizzled quartermaster from the Velvet Syndicate, the Dwarf named Grauen, approached whilst watching the process with a stern eye. "Be careful with that steel," Grauen growled, his voice as rough as gravel. "If you drop even one of those crates in the river, you'll wish you were dead," he said, pointing at his laborers.
"Aufhocker," he said, his blemished and aged face still looking forward at the loading of the sloop, "this is valuable stuff, enough to crack that skull of yours over were it not for my employer's wrath. Once you sail, you are on your own. You got any plan or just dumb luck?" he stated harshly as though looking at a fool.
"I've sailed through the dark isles many times before, old man. It won't be luck," Aufhocker said staunchly. "Just a bit of cunning," he stated with a venomous smile.
"Hmpf, if you say so," Grauen replied, unmoved. "Look at that hauler," he said, pointing to a disheveled imp slave, his clothes ragged, a chain around his legs, and a branding of the Velvet Syndicate on the shoulder. "He failed them big, 32 weeks more for him, minimal," he stated without a sign of pity.
"It's been like that my whole life already; nothing new you're telling me now, Grauen," Aufhocker said without wavering.
A sardonic smile entered Grauen's face. "Pleasure doing business, Aufhocker. Goodbye," he said, appreciating a bit of resilience.
"Goodbye," Aufhocker said as he walked towards his fully loaded sloop.
Stepping aboard the StormFisker, Aufhocker could already sense the restlessness with which the river swayed the sloop. It's going to be a long journey, but at least the river I know better than anyone, Aufhocker thought to himself.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
The StormFisker cut through the murky waters of the Bjergvogter River, the current pulling it steadily northeast. The crates of ashen-steel were securely stowed below deck, and Aufhocker kept a watchful eye on the riverbanks. As he navigated a narrow bend, the calm was shattered by the sudden sight of trees crashing down across the river, blocking his path. Before he could react, arrows began to rain down upon the deck, clattering against the iron-clad hull. One arrow hit his cheek, shattering his stone-like skin, showing an opening into his mouth and revealing his razor-like teeth inside.
Aufhocker let out a fell shout of pain before refocusing himself. "Damn it," he muttered quickly while reaching into his bag for his bombs. Igniting the first bomb in his hand, it spewed forth a dark purplish smoke, and he hurled it toward the source of the arrows. The thick, acrid smoke billowed out, obscuring the archers' line of sight and causing a shortage of breath. The barrage of arrows slowed, and Aufhocker used the momentary lull to assess the situation.
I have to break through, he thought to himself, lest they end up boarding me. He steered the StormFisker directly towards the blockade of fallen trees, ramming them with the reinforced bow. The impact was bludgeoning, and Aufhocker was swept forward and smashed his nose against the front of the ship, breaking a bit of it off. But the sturdy sloop broke through the barrier mostly unharmed, smashing the trees to the sides and clearing a path. Arrows continued to fly after him, but they whizzed harmlessly through the air, missing their target as the archers choked on the caustic smoke. The river widened, and the ambush site was left behind in the swirling mists.
Well, that was a good start. Not, Aufhocker thought to himself while taking a deep breath in. "At least the ship is still fine," he said with much relief.
-------------------------------------------
The StormFisker continued its journey through the Bjergvogter River, its iron-clad hull slicing through the water with determination. Aufhocker stood at the helm, his eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of further danger. The experience of the ambush still lingered by way of the pain he felt on his now partly shattered face. But his resolve was unshaken; after all, the crates of ashen-steel were still safely stowed below deck.
As the hours passed, the river began to widen greatly, and the dark silhouette of Svartik Port emerged from the mist. The port was a bustling hub of activity, its docks crowded with ships and its streets teeming with merchants, smugglers, and various unsavory characters. The air was thick with the smell of fish and smoke, and the sound of haggling voices filled the air.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
Aufhocker guided the StormFisker toward an empty berth, expertly maneuvering the sloop alongside the dock. He secured the mooring lines and paid the small security toll to his usual dockmaster; it wasn't his first time here, to say the least. He surveyed the bustling port shortly with a wary eye; Svartik was a place where every transaction was a gamble, and trust was a rare commodity built over long periods of time. He knew most of his smuggler comrades at the docks, but the inner city merchants were a whole class apart.
As he disembarked from the docks, a dockhand approached, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "New shipment, eh? What ya got there?" the dockhand asked curiously.
"Just passing through," Aufhocker replied curtly, not wanting to divulge any information. "I'm going to buy some supplies at the market, just keep watch over my ship."
The dockhand nodded, sensing Aufhocker's reluctance to engage in conversation. "Aye, sir," he said.
---------
The market was a chaotic blend of colors, smells, and sounds, with vendors shouting their wares and customers haggling over prices, and daggers behind every cloak. He approached a stall selling provisions, its owner a wiry man with a sharp gaze. "What do you need, facestealer?" the vendor asked, eyeing Aufhocker suspiciously as he knew he was a shapeshifter of sorts.
"A week of rations and some medicine," Aufhocker replied, sturdily and unbothered by the side commentary.
"A week's rations and medicine? Well, that's gonna cost ya a bit, say 35 gold pieces." The vendor smirked, looking at Aufhocker's broken face, clearly enjoying the exchange.
"That's practically robbery," Aufhocker replied with annoyance.
"Hey, prices have gone up. You won't get a different bargain from others; I can assure you that," the vendor remarked confidently, knowing all merchants agree on set prices. "Besides, I would not linger too long here, facestealer. Been some issues with you shapeshifters lately," he said, pointing to some guards eying Aufhocker from afar.
"Fine," Aufhocker replied, understanding the situation and dropping a small bag of gold coins.
"Cheers," the vendor replied, putting a bag of rations on the counter. "Now go, and don't ya dare use my face for some trickery," he said, waving Aufhocker away.
Walking back to the docks where his sloop was stationed, he noticed the guards were following him. Of course, they want to do a little 'inspection,' I bet, where I either pay them off or they declare I'm transporting something illegal. Well, I can't deny that I haven't done so before, but this time it is legal, Aufhocker thought to himself.
As Aufhocker walked onto the docks, he quickly grabbed a dockhand to whisper to him. "Oi, remove all lines from my sloop there quickly, aight?"
The dockhand understood what was going on and nodded back to Aufhocker, rushing forward. Aufhocker, wanting to borrow time for the dockhand, went to the dockmaster for a short conversation.
"Ey, old man, how are ya doing?" Aufhocker yelled out jovially.
The dockmaster, a water serpentine named Ofnir, turned slowly to face him. Ofnir's scaly skin shimmered with shades of blue and green, catching the dim light and reflecting it like ripples on water. His eyes, deep and aquatic, studied Aufhocker with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.
"Aufhocker," Ofnir hissed, his voice smooth and fluid. "Done shopping, are yee? What job has brought you back to Svartik, my slippery friend?"
"Just a simple delivery, really," Aufhocker replied shortly.
"You know damn well nothing is simple in these parts, and your face tells it," Ofnir replied with a perspicacious hiss. "But I won't interfere with your business," he stated with an honest smile.
"It's good to have friends like you, Ofnir. When I'm done with this job, I'll treat you to a fish egg omelet," Ofnir's tongue riveting at Aufhocker's reply instinctually.
"You know we had a bit of an incident a couple of days ago with a shapeshifter here. He impersonated the schepen and entered the administrative building," Ofnir explained with some honest worry.
"I see. I had noticed the hostility already. Who did he kill?" Aufhocker replied with some interest.
"Nobody. Perhaps he stole something, something big, something official. Either way, the Alliance doesn't like information leaks," Ofnir replied while overthinking what happened.
"Quite the risk, so it must be something of good worth," Aufhocker replied with a devious smile that he couldn't hide.
"Though I know it wasn't you, you ain't hiding your thievish will either," Ofnir replied with a chuckle.
Before Aufhocker could respond, the guards entered the dock, their heavy footsteps echoing on the wood. "You there," one of them barked, a burly man with a stern expression. "We need to inspect your vessel."
Ofnir, sensing the tension, slithered slightly to position himself between Aufhocker and the guards. "Gentlemen," he said smoothly, "is there a problem here?"
The burly guard glanced at Ofnir, clearly unnerved by the dockmaster's presence. "Back off, wormtongue. It's just an inspection. We've had reports of smuggling activities."
Ofnir's smile never wavered. "Of course, but this man here," he gestured to Aufhocker, "has always been a respectable trader in my port. I'm sure you won't find anything amiss."
The guard's eyes narrowed, suspicion clear on his face. "We'll see about that, snake. Step aside."
Just as the guard made a move towards the sloop, the dockhand finished his task, signaling to Aufhocker. Seizing the moment, Aufhocker bowed slightly to Ofnir. "Thank you for the chat, old friend. I'll be off now."
With a swift movement, Aufhocker threw down a smoke bomb. The guards, shocked by surprise and breathing in the smoke, stumbled down chokingly. Ofnir, being a water serpent, quickly slithered down into the water sneakily; he knew this was going to happen. Aufhocker sprinted towards the StormFisker, threw in his bag, and pushed the sloop off the docks while getting in. The guards, having gotten up and out of the smoke cloud, looked up, realizing they had been outmaneuvered, shouting and rushing forward. But it was too late.
Aufhocker was already steering the StormFisker into the open water, the iron-clad hull entering the river's current and speeding away. Shouting back to the docks, "Sorry, chaps! But I have a tight schedule. Till next time!" with much glee.
--------------