The plan was this: Margrin and I would meet his man, Imgrist, who would take us to meet the headman of the Orcish Syndicate. Janiver would meet with Brevid at the stables and they would begin the hunt for information on Lasca Grimriel. We all seemed to feel comfortable with the guides we had. Another cup of coffee and we were on our various ways.
Margrin and I were headed to the dockyards again, but this time to a quaint two-story block house with a widow’s walk overlooking the harbor on a rise above the seawall. It was painted an odd coral color but it seemed to fit in among the scattered palm trees and clinging wisteria.
We would be meeting with a local legend apparently. A large Orc by the name of Shamrog Yurk. His family had run the Kruklig Syndicate for more than 500 years. He'd been in his current position for twenty.
Like most places in Kruklig, the house didn't have a door. Rather, it had a short pull rope by the entry attached to a bell.
“He's expecting us," Imgrist said over his shoulder and rang the bell. Surprisingly, a goblin appeared in the portal seemingly out of nowhere. He couldn't have been more than five feet tall, with a greenish colored skin, black eyes, very short black hair, razor sharp teeth in a frog-like mouth and dressed in fine butler's livery.
“Mister Ferylyón, is the Master expecting you?” the butler enquired.
“Yes, Rook, and I have guests who shall remain anonymous for the moment, no offense."
“None taken, Sir. Follow me, please."
We walked a long hallway to a room at the end, again with no door. Rook signaled for us to stop and then be entered the room,
“Master, Mister Imgrist Ferylyón and two guests requesting audience.”
A booming bass of a voice said "Yes, yes, Rook, send them in.”
Unlike Rathkin’s bespoke throne room, this was simply a well-appointed sitting room with two wingback chairs and a couch done in gold damask around a central coffee table on a beautiful Sand Elf rug. The walls were lined with books, and a leaded window let in plenty of ambient light.
In one of the wingbacks was an enormous Orc, Shamrog Yurk, with gray green skin, short black hair, black eyes, and small tusks jutting from his lower jaw. He wore a jacket of scarlet brocade and mustard yellow hose.
We gave him a curt bow and he indicated we should be seated. Margrin and I took the couch.
Rook asked “Will there be anything else, Master?"
“Yes, Rook, bring tea and biscuits for three, please, and then piss off until I ring for you."
“As you wish, Master."
From his casual demeanor, Rook took that sort of verbal abuse often and he took it in stride.
“Now Gentlemen, before he gets back, with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking.”
Margrin spoke for both of us "Sir, I am Margrin Ephysieryón of the West Coast Syndicates out of Sandlise, , and this gentleman is Prince Tendil of the Gray Elves of the Taliswood, formerly Mister Tendil Bascombe, Esquire of Wikehold.”
“Well," he said dryly, “that's quite the resumé for you both. And with what might I assist you, Sir, Your Highness?”
We waited as Rook set down his tray and departed.
I took the lead, "Mister Yurk, I'm not sure how much you know of what's been going on out West.”
"What I know is, I think, not much. And a lot of what I think I know is likely falsehoods. So humor me, Your Majesty.”
"Okay you know the power of the included amber held by the Gray Elves?”
"Yes, we get many requests to acquire large quantities of the stuff but the people who are looking for it don't seem like good business.”
"Well, the included amber is a source of magic that this world hasn't seen in many thousands, millions of years. In fact, it's so powerful that, in the hands of a highly skilled magician, it can be used to grant godhood. We've seen this happen in the past week to the woman who currently sits on the throne in Yis-Gláz, Carca, the White Queen, she who overthrew Mag'stula.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Shamrog was considering the story so far, “She sits in a place that could greatly disrupt my business."
“You'll forgive me for saying so, Sir, but your business is an inconsequential factor right now. Carca and others are intent on turning this world into a layer of Hell. There would be no more business, no markets, commerce, gambling, prostitution, the Syndicates would be no more.”
"That sounds rather grave, Your Majesty. Just what can we mortals do to interfere in these plans?”
“We're not sure, Mister Yurk. That's why we're here. To see what we can find. To see if there are any options available to us, any magics or tricks. We must start with Carca. She hasn't fully come to grips with her godhood yet. That gives us some faint hope."
“What kind of hope, Prince? I know my Syndicate and I are powerless against the gods."
“You can help us with information, help us learn, Sir. That's why we're in Kruklig. Allow me to finish laying all of this out for you."
“Please do, Your Majesty."
“Carca was offered the chance to take the position of her lifelong patron, Death. There have been, we assume, many gods of Death so that's not a great thing as far as our plane is concerned. But Death has always been neutral. Carca will become the first evil Death. The more gods they get to change alignment increases their hold on our plane. They have all of the good gods tied up in battle so that they cannot act.”
"And why Kruklig and why us, Prince?”
"This is the source of two people who are very important to this story. One is an Elvish girl, Lasca Grimriel. She has been in Carca's ear and we believe she is an agent of the other person from Kruklig, Syndial Nur-Hajisti. The latter is the first Human we know of to Ascend by using the included amber. You know him better as the Black King.”
"Aye, I do know that name, Prince. One of the greatest devils, commander of the legions of Bone Devils. But I know that other name as well, Syndial Nur-Hajisti, they are one and the same?”
"One and the same. How do you know the other name?”
"Only from history books, My Prince. He vanished some centuries ago after committing heinous battlefield crimes. He is used as a cautionary tale in Military Science classes. There is a family still here in Kruklig with the Nur-Hajisti name. He must have had one or more brothers to carry it on.”
I was dumbfounded, "Margrin, we didn't even consider that he might still have ancestral ties here. He was undoubtedly from one of the Bedouin tribes and they have huge extended families.”
"Mister Yurk, if it's not a bother, could you tell us where we might find some of these descendants?”
"It's no bother at all, Your Majesty. Imgrist, put the word out on the street and find where these people are, how many of them there are, anything we need to know."
Just then Rook stepped back in and said “That won't be necessary, Master. There was much talk about them last night. At around seven bells, their house was attacked by assassins in Bedouin dress and they were slaughtered, all except a young boy who was hiding. Their house is right near the library and the offices of the New Lander Company.”
Shamrog told Imgrist, “Show them the way, Sir. Perhaps there's still some information to be gleaned.”
"Yes, Sir, Mister Margrin, Prince Tendil, come with me if you please.”
As we walked, Margrin said to my ear, “You remember, Prince, what Ravin said to us when we were attacked at the Daggers?"
“Ah, yes, that someone may be seeking to delay us to take care of some loose ends or something of that nature. That certainly fits the bill. But they left one. We need to get to that boy and keep him from harm.”
Margrin said, "If I may make a suggestion, I have a plan that I think might secure the boy for us, but we need to get with Janiver first."
“Very well, let's get back to Tyner's Rest and we'll wait for them there. New Lander Company, that's a shipping company out of the Eastern Continent, Horeth right?”
"I do believe so, Sir, yes. Those are a hardy people over there. When they hit these shores though , they don't stray far from the docks. Admitted, their office is only two blocks away from the docks but I'm surprised it isn't closer.
Horeth is an unusual place. Much smaller than our continent, more like a large island, closer to the Northern Pole. It's a place of great mineral wealth. Gold, silver, iron, copper, nickel, and every gemstone imaginable.
The population of that continent’s West Coast is primarily Human. There are mountains running North to South the entire length of the coast, the source of the mineral wealth, mined almost exclusively by Dwarves. And this is where the Great Dwarvish kingdoms still thrive.
After those mountains and all the way to the continent's East Coast is wilderness save for a few Hobgoblin duchies. There are miles and miles of hills, forests, wastelands, and volcanic regions all controlled by the Giants. That's why you hear no mention of the Eastern Continent on the Hard Coast. There is no trading with the Giants.”
We waited in the tavern for Janiver's return and weren't kept waiting long. Her news wasn't the greatest.
“Lasca Grimriel may as well be a ghost. Plenty of people know of her and know the name, but she's not from here. She's told a dozen people a dozen places she called home. Even across the water. We said she was a Sand Elf, but Ravin and Brevid have never heard of her which is unusual to say the least. There are other Sand Elf tribes further North in the Waste, but they're few in number.”
I considered these facts, "But still a possibility. Unless there's some very strong magic at work with her. The fact is that she's a Barrow Elf now anyway. We must proceed from there.”
“For now," I said, “there's a boy we need to get to straight away."
I explained everything to her that we had learned about the family and the boy. It was of the utmost significance that we had a surviving blood relative of the Black King within our reach.
We had Janiver cast spells on us to make us appear to be Human Bedouins, and found the scene of the last night's crime.
The boy had been taken to the Constable's office and had slept on a cot in a spare room until they could figure out what to do with him.
We presented ourselves as the boy's uncles with paperwork Margrin had made with a forgery kit, showing that his father wanted us to take custody of the child in the event that something should happen to the family.
The Orc Captain on Duty hardly bothered to look at the document, much less check our story, to Margrin's chagrin, and handed the boy away to us eagerly, wanting to be done with the problem.
The “boy" turned out to be a young man in his early teens. He was clearly in shock and I have no idea what he was thinking, but we quickly got him back to Tyner's Rest and got him some food.