Realm of Shadow: Chapter 1

[b][center]Chapter 1
Beginnings[/center][/b]


The sea was her home and again, she was happy to be back out away from the people, the politics, and the steadiness of the land.  She stared out at the open sea, as another beautiful sunrise illuminated the calm green waters of the Southern Sea.  She had watched the same sunrise for seven years, and she not grown tired of it.  Too many, they found the sea dangerous, unpredictable, but she did not.  She felt that way about the land and those who lived on it.  Out here, you know what to expect.  All you needed was a talented eye and an understanding of the signs the sky and waters gave you.  Out here, nothing was a surprise, it was all out in the open, showing it’s signs long before it struck.  Those who could not read her or understand found themselves in a watery tomb, trapped in vast depths that the sea covered.  She however, knew better.  She felt calm, as if she was one with the water as it held her ship gracefully and guided it along a path that only she could control.  She was born for this, she knew it the first moment she saw the sea when she was a young child on the docks of Port Alexi.  It always called her, drew her near, begged her to a life away from the solidity of the shore.  As if it beckoned her away from her troubled life amongst thieves and politicians.
When she was a child her father was a seaman and she would watch him board his ship when ever he left each and every trip.  Always he promised her that one day he would take her along.  He taught her sailing, taking her out on small fishing boats, showing her the signs of the sea.  Letting her feel the subtle signals that the water and wind would give, allowing her to guide the small craft.  He was pleased with her, she always remembered the pleased look on his face as she handled the boat with ease as if she herself was an experienced captain.  He taught her all he knew, taking her aboard his ship when it was docked.  He pointed out all the various components, what they were for.  How many men it took to man each station, to raise and drop each sail.  She grew to know the men on the ship, how the thought, how the reacted and she could not wait until the day that she would command them like her father did.  Her father,  Robert Foster was the captain of  his own ship, serving the city of Port Alexi.
Her life at sea was not to be at a young age,  for when she was fifteen, her mother died giving birth to her younger brother Trae.  Her father made her stay at home in the manor to aid in his raising.  Since he was a captain, they were given luxuries that the normal population in Alexi did not have.  They had a decent size manor house with a few servants.  The house needed a manager, someone to oversee it and ensure the baby would get the attention he deserved.  Catherine hated her fathers decision, but did has he wished.  The manor was as far from the sea as it could get in Alexi.  She missed the smells, the winded, the sounds.  When she had a time, she would take herself down to the shore and docks to breathe in the life that she needed to survive until the next time she could sneak away and come to the place she truly called home.
The sea was unlike the land, here she was the captain, here she was in control.  She called the shots and there was no one hiding behind in dark corners to stab her in the back.  Often others thought she must feel as if she was alone out here, but she felt otherwise.  She felt safe, she felt happy, she felt full of life.  It was on land with the land lovers that she felt utterly alone, despite the remains of her family that she left behind in the port, she still felt alone in the city.  She had many so called friends, comrades if you will and associates, but none of them fulfilled her need to be at sea.  None of them were strong enough to pull her in.  She knew that they all had motives driven by desires that would only harm her.  She thought she could trust a few, but they only revealed their true agendas and caused her harm emotionally and mentally.
She turned away from the windows in the aft castle of the large frigate.  Freshly brewed Dyginian Elven tea sent forth a luscious aroma that filled her small cabin.  She moved to the table and sat as her cabin boy poured the steaming brew into a rare porcelain cup.
"Any breakfast from the galley this mornin' Capt'n Foster?" he asked.
The lad stared lustfully at her nearly exposed breast as he spoke; it was a wonder that he even hit the cup with the tea.  A blue silk shirt, not yet buttoned, was all that covered her; nothing had been left to his youthful imagination.  She grinned, then lowered her head and looked up into his eyes.  "No Craig, that will be all for now," she replied with a devilish smile. His facial color quickly turned a shade of red as he backed out her cabin door. She loved to tease men with what she had.  She was exceptionally beautiful with a smooth thin body that most men would try to possess.
Cat was a strong woman, there was no doubt in that, but at times, she wished her father was still with her.  But that was not so, on her nineteenth he left for sea and never returned.  What happened to him, well one must understand the origins of Port Alexi to know how and why it was run the way it was.  It was once the home and hideout of Captain Alexander, on of histories greatest pirates over a hundred years ago.  The hideaway had no land entrance since it was surrounded by large mountains on three sides.  However, twenty years after Alexander founded it, he realized that there was a maze of old dwarven mining tunnels that twisted deep inside the mountains, allowing access to those who risked the vast catacombs.  It was in these catacombs did he find the riches of Port Alexi.  There were tunnels that still held silver and tunnels deeper that still held gemstones.  He quickly began allowing captives from the seas to live and mine those dwarven tunnels, and soon Port Alexi grew.  Specialists came who could turn the raw gems and silver into marketable jewelry and soon Alexian jewelry and silver bars became well-known and desired.
But it was still run by thieves and pirates, so the people owned nothing, most worked for free then as slaves, but as time grew, they gained small pay, not much, but enough barely to survive.  The government controlled everything from the mines, to the shipping and trading.  There was no free trade in Alexi, it was still done through what many still called the Alexian Pirates.  Though Pirates they were not, not any longer.  The shipping was mostly legitimate, only Alexian ships could haul and trade Alexian exports.  This way they could control the price on the market.  However, maybe they were not pirates on the open seas, they were still thieves and thugs that ran the government, mining, and shipping.  Often enough, too often, the rode up the ladder of power and success was through manipulation, payoffs, or killing.
She remembered hearing the crew tell how the first mate killed her father to gain his position.  That vile man was not worthy or competent enough to hold that position.  She also recalled putting on her sword belt at home that evening when the ship docked and kissing her three year old baby brother good bye.  She expected to die that night, but at least she would have tried to avenge her father.  She remembered the rain and wind as she walked down to the docks, she remembered her anger as she stepped into the dock tavern.  It was strange how the bar went silent as she boldly walked in and past by most of the crew of her father’s ship.  Cat did not bother with subtly, she turned the murder around forcibly, taking him by surprise.  When he saw her he only smiled and laughed.
He said something to her that she now had long since forgotten, it was along the lines of ‘Whatcha goin’ to do little girl’.  She only reacted by drawing her cutlass from its resting place.  The man stepped back in shock, but he was too slow.  She brought the up across his midsection and chest.  He grabbed  his bleeding gut and fell to the floor.  She could have left it at that, he would die, but she needed more.  She swung the blade again and slashed it across the man’s throat.  He gurgled in pain as he fully collapsed to the floor, spreading is life giving essence over the bar’s wooden floor.  She stared at him, watching him in the eyes as he died gaining satisfaction.  She changed then, it was her first kill and it would not be the last, she knew that.  She found out it was easy and she felt no remorse inside.  She decided that she would feel no remorse ever removing those that threatened her, her family, or her position.  She drew a deep breath and turned raising her blade expecting more, but everyone turned away, and resumed their own business.
The next year later, she had a position on that very ship as it’s first mate.  That was fifteen years ago, along time ago and much has evolved since.  Many have tried to cheat their way past her, many have tried to remove her, but all failed, thus allowing her to progress.  She was not clean of this treachery herself, she made a few payoffs with both silver and sex, but it kept her safe and moved her up eventually to Captain.  But the longer she stayed at sea, the cleaner she felt, away from the filth that swarmed in the cities at the coasts of the southern sea.  Often she would stay aboard even when the ship was at port in a foreign city, preferring the company of her loyal, hand picked crew that remained on board with her.  Out here, on the water, she was untouchable, on shore she was vulnerable and she hated that with a passion.  She was not afraid of those on shore, she simply did not trust them and they could come at her from so many directions.  But here, the only way they could get her was fighting her on her own turf.  And her ship, the Zephyr, was the fastest ship in the Alexian Fleet, and her crew were skilled and loyal.  Yes, here she was definitely untouchable.
She sipped her tea and stood.  She dressed herself in her usual, tight leather breeches, and a silk shirt that she did not bother to button, but simply tied at her waist.  She never wore her sword on board, she found that she did not need to.  Nor did she like to where her boots, she preferred to feel the wet wood on her bare feet, it grounded her, again giving her that feeling she was one with the sea and her ship.  She moved to her desk and looked down at the charts.  She did not need them, she had the routes memorized and knew several that were not on the charts, but she felt nostalgic and kept them around.  She drew her finger from Alexi in a long arc out to sea southeastward then brought it back up northeastward to the city of Islesen.  She tapped her finger on the city a couple of times and smiled to herself.  “I’m comin’ for ya,” she whispered.
She walked out of her private chambers, entering the Hall and walked past her first and second mates quarters and  emerged on the main deck of the Zephyr.  She took in a deep breath allowing the salt air to invigorate her.  The ship was moving at max speed, her men were busy doing what they must to keep it so.  She walked past many; they nodded to her as she past making her way to the forecastle.  She sprung up a flight of stairs with ease and leaned against the fore ballista.  The wind was blowing her long brown hair behind her as she stared out at the vast open sea in front of her.  She took in another deep breath, the wind nearly causing her to gasp.  It did not bother her she repeated this ritual every morning.
Islesen was now ahead of her, somewhere out there.  The great city was only three days away and she was on the finishing leg of her long arc.  There was a time when she loved the city of Islesen and could not wait to sail into her vast port, but now she hated it.  Memories there only proved to her that no one, that is no one could be trusted, regardless what they said or what she felt.  It was another mass of un-trustable people, both women and men.  Another den of thieves like Alexi itself.  Like every city, she determined.  Islesen’s only difference is that it held one of the largest underground network of thieves and smugglers and could get smuggled goods out all over the rest of Dargothia.  Years ago, she was asked to make a secure connection into that organization so Alexi could smuggle out some of their goods that were not legal across the realms.  Goods they acquired from the western routes, such as Dyginian Elven tea, Dwarven weapons (made from dwarven slaves in the mines), drugs from the exotic lands of Katanga, and most of all, human slaves.
A man named Colin Brevor ran the large underground outfit with an iron fist.  When she said underground outfit, she was being literal, for Colin controlled the majority of the sewers of Islesen.  The maze like system protected him and his illegal profession from any whom would attempt to bring it down.  Colin ten years her elder and married, was not an ugly man, nor was he overly handsome, she would consider him somewhat homely, but there was his lieutenant, who was a most striking single man.
Jayce Shadowgrass was the kind of man that women would kill for.  He held himself high and was very straightforward.  She supposed that came from his years as a knight for Islesen.  Seeing him kind and honorable, defending the meek and helpless, was a bit hard for her to comprehend.  His cold hard green eyes could carve deep into your soul and rip it out from within you revealing little to no compassion.  Combined with words that sliced with anger, but humor lining the edges, he usually appeared cruel to the most casual of observers.  Jayce always knew what to say to achieve the desired effect on most people.  So what was his intended effect on her?  He never openly admitted that he was the least bit interested, yet he charmed her off her feet and into his bed.  Was it all a part of the plan from the very beginning?
It was he who was her contact with the Brevor Syndicate, and all deals were made through him.  She rarely met with Colin or his wife.  It was the first night five years ago that they discussed the matter of a contract and after a few glasses of wine she found herself in his bed.  The night was remarkable and he touched her in ways that men have never touched her before.  For the first time in her life, she was enjoying the act of sex, it was not a mere ploy to get something from some one, it was done for pleasure.  Or that’s how she felt about it at the time.  In some deep part of her, she still did.  This feeling inside her angered herself, she should have never allowed the affair to last this long or get so deeply emotionally tied to him.  Around him, she broke her own rules of trust and protection.  She let her guard down, letting herself become vulnerable to him and the world he controlled.  There was never a bad moment between them, and she actually begun to believe the feelings she had were true and he likewise.  How could she be such a fool, falling in love with a thief.  A thief who only proved again that everyone had their own agenda and he had his even those five years ago.
Six months ago Jayce Shadowgrass broke from Colin's organization and started his own.  Apparently, the ex-knight was pilfering from both sides of the fence.  He bought off many men from both organizations and offered outside connections a better deal.  Shadowgrass now controlled a very potent and threatening organization.  However, his betrayal cut ties with the most important connection of all, the Alexian Pirates.  They dominated the sea, so how he intended to buy and sell was beyond her.
That point was mute, his buying and selling days would soon be over, the Zephyr was coming for him and she would personally kill him.  There would be no judgment, no courts, just her and her sword.  He was good with his sword too, but she had the element of surprise.  He thought she still loved him, well was he wrong.
"We have a problem Capt'n," came a voice from behind her.  Timothy, her first mate for three years, was a competent man, but at times a bit over concerned about the smallest of incidence, somewhat paranoid to the point of almost becoming an annoyance.
"What now?" she asked.
"We've got a caravel approaching fast off the port stern," he said anxiously.
"It's probably an Islesen patrol," she said calmly.
"No, it flies a strange flag."  He turned to face the aft of the ship.  "Do you feel the air?"  She did and thought nothing of it.  "It grew colder as soon as the caravel came in sight, and it's gotten colder the closer it gets."
She walked to him and looked out to the port side.  It was too far out for her to see any flag without a spyglass.  Though, there was no need for alarm, many ships were often spotted, new merchant companies sprouted up all the time, though they usually did not last long.  Foster quickly backed away from the window. 
"Could it be Shadowgrass?" Timothy asked.
"No," she answered, "Jayce doesn't own any ships yet."  There was no reason to get so nervous.  But he may have a small point; her keen sense began to become alert.  Her intuition fed her with the smell of danger, something was out there, not on the ship, but in the air as if guiding the vessel.  Something watching, something powerful.  Something evil.
* * * *
Jagged shadows veiled the canyon floor like death's blackened fanged teeth as the sun crested the eastern mountains.  Dust and smoke scented with blood rode the wind destined to lay at the base of Islesen's great wall, a few miles to the south.  Bodies of brave soldiers littered the hard barren ground around empty burning wagons.  The rapid river carried the red essences of life southward to mingle with the sea.  The repulsive scene was not unfamiliar to Norrelle Freidmen, but days of blood and battle had been dormant in Islesen for eight years.  She remembered scenes such as this from the past, some worse.  Though accustomed to death, it always sat uncomfortable with her.  Such deaths were needless, as where most as far as she was concerned.  Norrelle had seen too much of it for far too long.  She almost convinced herself that she would never view such chaos and destruction again.  However nothing ever changes in man or nature.  Someone would always kill to get something they wanted from someone else.  Sometimes she wondered why she retained her position year after year, as if she was waiting for those days to return.
Shipping occupied most of Norrelle's time, since she owned the largest shipping company within the city.  Windwing Shipping started from a single ship so long ago.  She nurtured it to maturity, not much unlike a mother would a child.  As of this day, her company contained twenty-three ships, two more than the entire Alexian fleet, eight warehouses in Islesen and four more warehouses in two other cities.  But it was not so long ago; she nearly lost a majority of business and her home in the Third Goblin war.  She also saw Islesen as hers, she was with this city long before it was an empire, back when it was only a small portion of the eleven mile long island.  When the goblins and their orc counterparts threatened the city from the north in the canyons, she joined the Knighthood to protect her investment first hand.
Ever since, she involved herself with every war, skirmish, and police action that Islesen got itself caught up in.  Until that dreadful day eight years ago, that dark morning when the knights disbanded after the worst battle they ever fought.  For Norrelle, her heroic deeds landed her the position as General of the land forces, and it was an honor that she simply could not refuse.  This allowed her to be aware of the threats to Islesen, both land and sea. Though, she tried not to get actively involved with the day to day routines, she still kept a hand and watchful eye over the city’s forces.  She oversaw promotions in the upper echelons, placed trustworthy personnel in key positions, and it was these men and women who carried out her orders.  Actually, they did all the labor.  She read reports, ordered troop movements to other cities for aid, did a few rank inspections, and investigated a few unusual incidence.  And in those eight years never has an unusual incident revealed itself to be like the one that laid before her now.
Several soldiers patrolled the area searching for clues.  Every battle left its telltale signs of who or what caused the action, and sometimes-even why.  She knew this would be no different.  She shook her head, such shame, many good men lay at her feet, some with families.  She would have to inform them of this insensitive act that had taken their loved ones.  She turned and faced the south; the wind blew her auburn hair into her eyes.  So close to home, just four miles around the next bend sat Islesen, a half a day for a caravan.
Her first general observation of the scene told her that this was no raid by bandits.  Several of the goods that were destined to Islesen lay recklessly throughout the canyon.  Bolts of silk, cases of Arginthin wine, and many other items that would bring excellent prices on the black market.  By the positions of the bodies, she could ascertain that it was a multiple attack.  Forces struck the wagons from both the east and west sides, but a smaller force was used to distract a group of soldiers’ back to the north.  This force came first, then with a majority of the soldiers away the rest attacked here, where the canyon was at it narrowest.
"General Freidman," came a voice from a soldier.  "We got something here."  He waved her to a wagon at the rear of the group.  She slowly walked to it.  Large red letters were painted onto the rear of the cart.  It was a message written in the blood of the victims, a message to her.  One simple word ripped through her soul.  It said, "REMEMBER."
Norrelle witnessed this same scenario before.  A battle that she participated in eight years ago.  Today was the twenty - sixth day of the fifth month.  It was eight years to the day, it was a day that she had never forgotten; none of them did....

It was a warm morning; the sun was just starting to peak the mountains.  The knights rode with Jonathan Hardin, a wealthy merchant of antiquities from the old world.  Stolen antiquities, actually spoils of the war two hundred and fifty years ago, but this merchant acquired them legally.  No matter how they were obtained, Norrelle still considered the items property of the Elves.  The humans drove them from their lands and forced them into the forest on the southeastern coast.  The forest now called Lycndroil, after the Elven Queen, was their prison.  The spoils should be returned to them, not sold, bought or displayed.  However, the humans considered all Elven property their own and any dealings with the Elves had been declared illegal.  Norrelle's own views, however strong in her, were not important to the matter at hand.  The order still stood, and she would obey it.
The Goblins attacked nearly every shipment through the canyon.  Hundreds of them used to hide in the mountains to the west and every day the knights picked their way through the nooks to find them.  They had grown to become a deadly nuisance, one that the knights eliminated, all that is, but the smallest of clans.  That one clan consistently eluded them, their training and skills nearly matched the knights, quite unusual for Goblins.  They did not know the exact description of the cargo that Jonathan Hardin carried, nor did they want to know. King Sebastian Richmond ordered them to escort this valuable load to Islesen.  The contents of the shipment could not fall into the wrong hands.
Norrelle rode lead with Rachid Assim ahead of fifteen soldiers.  The brothers Terran and Fredric brought up the rear, behind ten more soldiers.  Lady Ayrial and Stalker took the left, while Jayce and Fiona rode along the right side, each commanding five soldiers. They started the day an hour ago and they all rode relaxed, Islesen was only four miles away, by late morning they would all be home.  The Goblins rarely attack this close, and here in the Jaws there was little room to run.
All morning Jayce talked with Leane Hardin, who rode in the lead wagon, the whole trip.  She was Jonathan’s daughter, about eighteen she guessed.  Jayce was always attracted to beautiful women in a lustful way, but he held himself different around her.  He even made a move on her once; Norrelle politely turned down the offer.  She was not sure about Fiona, but if she were to guess, she would bet that they had.  But today he smiled for the first time in years as he charmed Jonathan's daughter off her feet.  It was an unusual sight to see as Jayce tended to be a rather sour man, a bit rough around the edges.  But now, a light shined in his eyes that no one ever knew was there.  Norrelle could not hear every word that he said to her, but she knew it only could be stories of heroic battles that they all fought in.  Though the tales probably held a different view than that which really occurred.  She smiled as his voice rambled on.
The team just entered the Jaws of Islesen, which held the that title because it was the narrowest point in the canyon, when Norrelle quickly turned her head to the rear has she heard the familiar eerie Goblins war cry echo from behind them.  Fredric's horse took an arrow in the neck; he tumbled to the ground as his horse fell lifeless to the hard dirt.  Jayce and Fiona reacted instantly; their horses leapt to a gallop.  Jayce cried out to Terran and Fredric, but she did not hear the command, but Fredric returned with a wave of acknowledgement as Jayce charged the enemy.  Norrelle drew her saber as her horse lurched into a gallop at her command.  She saw a small goblin band of about five or six, on foot about a bow shot behind them.  The hideous humanoid creatures always wore rags and carried crude weapons overtop of their putrid brown hide, but not this band.  Their leather like skin was covered with armor and their weapons gleamed in the sunlight. 
She saw Jayce and Fiona charge and quickly turned back toward the mountains.  A warrior’s instinct crept in to her mind as she slowed near the back of the caravan while Terran and Fredric assembled the soldiers to defend the wagon train from the rear.  Something was amiss, though she could not place it.  She shook it off as Ayrial and Stalker rounded the rear of the caravan and joined the chase.  She followed, but still that instinct plagued her mind...

"General Freidmen," a panicked voice beckoned her back to the present.  She turned toward the call has a young soldier ran around a toppled wagon near the center of the caravan.  Another was kneeling next to him vomiting what remained of his breakfast.  She sensed urgency and responded, moving quickly to the lad. "General, by the Gods," he exclaimed as he suddenly coughed then fell to his knees and duplicated his comrades actions. She knew these troops were young and inexperienced in combat, but this was a bit of an overreaction.
Norrelle glanced in the direction from which the young soldier came.  Captain Seveil stood there, staring at the ground.  The seasoned veteran held his mouth with his left hand, his battle hardened face was whiter than the clouds that sailed over head.  He turned to her with eyes that exhibited fear and disgust.  He waved her to him with his right hand, then turned away.  Curiously, she moved up to the man that had fought in the Goblin wars eight years ago.  What could possibly be so....
She stopped and stared in astonishment at what laid on the ground before her.  "By all the Gods," was all she could say.
         *  *  *
Rays of orange streamed through the louvered balcony doors into his bedchamber.  Jayce Shadowgrass blinked his eyes several times, then left them shut as the light stabbed his brain like venomous daggers.  One attempt to roll his head to the right was abruptly ceased with a throbbing that reminded him of a dwarven blacksmith vigorously pounding out a fiery red sheet of iron inside his skull.  Sooner or later that dwarf would make mush of his head, sometimes he wished it would be sooner.  He lay there and allowed the suns morning rays to massage his face, invigorating him.  A full day lay ahead for him, plenty of silver to be made plenty to be spent.  Well, spent was an ugly word; invested was a much more suitable term.  Silver was never spent without the intent on making some in one way or another.  Silver was definitely not made to freely give away or to be frivolously wasted.  Of course there was one exception to that rule, ale.
Ale was still the taste that lingered in his dry palate.  One more night, one too many mugs, again.  He laughed to himself, what a life.  Last night was but a blur to him, then again so was almost every night for the past eight years.  It was utterly amazing that the little dwarf in his head had not yet smashed his mind into useless chunks.  What a life, he thought again, at least it was finally his life, to control on his own.
No more knighthood or rude councilmen to obey.  No more Colin and Patch Brevor to listen to or follow.  No one told him how to run his businesses.  After a life of struggle it was his turn to lounge in the lap of luxury.  What was once a distant dream years ago as a boy surviving on the wharves was now a fruitful reality.  He now owned two businesses outright, and secretly controlled four others. 
The smaller of his two businesses, Shadowgrass' Fencing Academy, was located on the 'Hill', the richer side of Islesen, near the manors.  A twenty-foot wall cut the twelve-mile long island right down its midsection, and that which sat on the higher terrain was the homes and businesses of the elite.  It was through this academy that he could get all the latest gossip on those well to do.  Many young upstarts were trained here, by Jayce’s best swordsmen and fencers.  One would be surprised at the young would say about their parents and friends.
All that sat on the low lands to the east of the wall was the middle and lower classes, or the actual heart of the city.  It was this side, the east, that contained the shipping docks, warehouses, street people, seedy inns and taverns, and the large park, which was the home of the local mage.  Around this park sat the large merchants district, and in the heart of this sat his second business. 
The Silver Dagger was not a business to him, but his child.  The Dagger, as it was commonly referred to, held a luxurious tavern and gambling casino.  It was also the finest inn on the northeastern side of the island, which held the majority of the middle class merchants.  On the unfinished sixth floor of the building held his residence and was where he laid now.  It was a modest three-room apartment, two of which were known to most; the third was his private office and personal vault.
The Dagger took him three years to build.  Much secrecy and care was taken to hide the fact that the unfinished building was his.  It was expensive to pay off those in the palace to keep the building, zoning, and other licenses inaccessible to anyone who held an interest; namely Colin Brevor and the Alexian Pirates.  If they found out it was his business before it opened, his game was over.  It was, by rights, their silver that paid for it.  The salary that both Colin and the pirates paid could never yield such a profit as luxurious as the Dagger, let alone a seedy building near the docks.  No, he went about it the right way, stealing.  Actually, he wondered, was there any other way to make a vault full of silver faster?
In fact, the illegal acquisition of goods was one his primary sources of income.  Smugglers in far eastern city of Katananga furnished him with Dyginian Elven tea and the finest silk.  Connections deep within the Alexian Empire offered him a cheap price on uncut diamonds and other gemstones from the mines in Port Alexi, this of course cut the Pirates out of their share from these few stones.  A few close dwarven friends that hid in the mountains to Islesen's east sold him weapons made from dwarven steel by dwarven blacksmiths.  The finest, sharpest, and strongest weapons known to man were made by the dwarves.  They knew a metallurgical skill that dated thousands of years, and to date, no human knew.
Of course, he fenced many goods for thieves who worked outside of the city; as far as in the city, well, no one was burglarized unless he ordered it.  Colin's organization was a problem in this area, but in time, that small problem would be taken care of.  However, until then, the protection fee that he offered was another large source of silver.
The mattress of his bed shook as a body that lay next to him turned.  He finally forced his head to look to his right and opened his eyes.  A naked sleeping woman greeted his blurred sight.  Erin's nipples pointed up to the ceiling as the cool morning air woke only part of her beautiful body.  He laughed quietly to himself, his thought earlier was wrong; there was at least one person who still held control over him.  Erin was ten years younger, a vibrant twenty-six.  She was the daughter of Leeland Parker, a powerful man who sat on the Inn and Tavern Guild Council and owned four of the finest establishments, "hotels, on the 'Hill'".  It was through her that Jayce persuaded him to keep his business hush. Without his influence on the Guild, Jayce would have never succeeded.  Jayce's reputation usually preceded himself, and no respectable man would give him a license to build or sell any thing, let alone a casino.
Erin hated her father; he was old fashioned, strict, demanding and still believed in prearranged marriages.  So, out of spite, she involved herself with Jayce.  Jayce did not mind, she was an easy step for a larger target.  Although, Erin was an attractive woman, Jayce held no feelings for her other than pure lust.  She was a good release for the frequent sexual tension that would build up when Cat was not in town, but other than that, she meant nothing to him.
Erin, on the other hand, held other views.  Unfortunately, against her original agreement, she became attached.  She never mentioned that four-letter word that women so easily tossed around, but he could see it coming.  This posed a serious and deeply unwanted situation.  How could he break away from her, before she started harping love without pissing her off.  Despite her disposition with her father, she would run to him in an instant, daddy could fix anything.  This could result in a tragic confrontation between him, the Inn and Tavern Guild and the law. 
Nonetheless, something would come to him, it always did.  Someway or another an avenue of freedom would alleviate his need for her.  As the sun rose that day, he had men working on the background of Leeland Parker and several other Guild Councilmen to find something buried deep within their closets.  A few were even digging in Erin's short, but obviously colorful past.  Without a doubt, he knew they would find something, they always did, because no one was perfect.  Not many lived an unadulterated life; and everyone had at least one moment of weakness during their life that they regret.  Secrets thrived in the freewilled soul.  Sometimes he considered secrets an essential food for the soul, or, at least, for his business.  Something men or all freethinking humanoids must have to survive, and to discover these dark secrets was his job.  To reveal these clandestine acts was also a task that he gladly performed.  This was done only when the time was right, at a moment when these painful revelations would most benefit him.
An hour later, Jayce was sitting behind a desk in his third office.  His second office was on the first floor of the Dagger, behind the bar.  There he sat and conducted legal business as well as taking care of concerned patrons and nosey officials.  The third office was yet one more flight of stairs down, under the Dagger, in a small catacomb of cleared and refinished sewers.  Of course, all the sewer lines to this area were sealed off, which caused the area to no longer function as it was originally intended many years ago by the city.  Now it served as a hub for all his illegal activities.
On the other side of the desk sat two of his most trusted companions.  To his left sat Carl Haynmen, or Blade as he preferred to be called.  Blade owned one third of the Dagger and was in charge of the illicit side of the business.  Blade was a wiry young red head, whom Jayce hired seven years ago when the master plan started to take place.  With all due respect, it was actually the two of them who built the small empire that Jayce ran today.  Blade had no urge to run any legitimate businesses, however he secretly owned at least two whore houses down by the docks and one high class call girl parlor on the Hill.  Blade preferred to work at night, running the organization efficiently with little interjection from Jayce himself.  Jayce advised him on major deals and conducted business with the higher contacts such as Ayrial and Norrelle.
To Jayce's right sat Shae Kruschler.  Shae, originally from Myrinda, also owned one third of the Dagger, was now his one and only bodyguard.  With her by his side, he needed no other.  They met one dark night, about four years ago, on a deal that went sour.  She of course, was on the other side at the time.  This small woman often deceived most men that came across her.  She stood no more than five feet, and was only twenty - three years.  However, she wielded that four-foot sword of hers with beautiful grace and agility.  The blade soon became nicknamed the 'Widowmaker'.  To this day he had only seen five individuals better with a blade than her.
"Burn it," he replied to Blade after a few moments.
"What?" Blade questioned.  "That old man kept me alive.  You too, if I recall.  Without his free food and ale, and at times lodging and women at no cost, I would be dead.  Maybe even you as well."  Blade shook his head.  "Times are hard now.  With the Royal Order cracking down, the new laws on building codes and requirements by our own city council, silver is tight.  You know that Jayce."
Jayce leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on his desk.  "So?  We can't have people neglecting their payments.  If he can get away with it, because we feel sorry and we knew him, who's next Blade?  No, we must let them know.  Burn it."
"Hell, Jayce, listen.."
"Blade, I know you have a lot of freedom down here, but something’s just can't be avoided.  Now, I want to hear about the tragic fire at the Sea Brawl Tavern tomorrow morning.  Besides, the damn place is an eyesore, no wonder he's spending so much trying to come up to the standards of the new beautification law."
Blade shifted uneasily in his chair.  "What about the women upstairs.  Hell, what's old man Cravnik gonna do?"
"The whores will find work else where, no doubt in that.  Cravnik can retire, or rebuild, his choice.  Hell, if he decides to rebuild, we'll pay a quarter of the cost and loan him the rest.  To show him that we're sorry to see a tragedy befall on such a historical tavern."  Jayce grinned, "Then he'll have no problem remaining loyal 'cause I'll own a quarter of his damn business."  Jayce looked at Shae and smiled.  She returned with a shake of her head and then sipped her tea.  Jayce picked up a cup of smuggled tea, "Next?"
Shae turned to him, “There was an attack yesterday outside the city, in the Jaws.  A source told me that Norrelle rode out this morning to investigate.  Two soldiers that went with her are on our payroll as well, so we should get a good report about the incident.”
“Any ideas?  There as not been an attack out there for years, since,” he paused.  “Strange, but I don’t think it  should concern us, unless of course it was Colin’s doing.”
“Yes My Lord,” Shae nodded.
“Keep me informed, look into it.  I’ll speak with Norrelle herself later,” he paused again.  Old memories began to seep into his mind, memories he had chose to forget.  But his keen instinct told him it was worth a look, something was out of the ordinary.  To the day, he thought.  “Send out some scouts anyway, before the scene is to badly trampled over.  It maybe something, it maybe nothing, but I think we should have a look for ourselves.”
Shae nodded again.
“Next?” he asked.
Blade again repositioned himself in his seat and looked at a tattered sheet of parchment.  "Well, you need to get in touch with Captain Jon.  We've got a hot shipment that needs to head east rather soon."
"What would this be?" Jayce asked.          
"Remember that jewelry I asked you about a fortnight ago?  The stuff that was stolen from a land baron near Arginth, by that Arginthian bandit group the, whatever the hell they call themselves?"
Jayce took in a deep breath, "You're referring the Arginthian Dark Knights."  Jayce rolled his eyes at the ridiculous title.
"Yeah, well it seems the Royal Order was reported in that town at the falls."
"Why would the Royal Order be looking for a baron's jewels Blade?"
"Well, it seems that the baron has a brother..."
"Shit, now I remember the name, Baron Shuchller," Jayce cut Blade off.  "Don't tell me that Edgar Shuchller of World Council is this damn baron's bother."
Blade shifted again, "Okay, I won't, but he is."
Jayce placed his head in his hands and looked at his desk.  If there were two things he never liked hearing in a conversation they would be the Dargothian World Council and the Dargothian Royal Order.  Twelve years ago the Dargothian world leaders, which consisted of eleven human civilized countries in southern Dargothia got together and established what they called the World Council.  They insisted that, as one entity, they could oversee the entire civilized area and protect it easier.  Deal with common threats to all those countries.  By their own laws, each country would still run itself as long as it was to the best interest to all of Dargothia.  Each country, eleven at time was to send one ambassador to sit on this council and make decisions that would effect all eleven.  Then they created the Royal Order. 
The Order was the world's knighthood that would serve all mankind.  But, Islesen at the time was too small, even though it was the largest port on the southern coast, to be invited into the council or be protected by the Order.  So, Islesen had to take care of its own Goblin problem.  When they created Sebastian Falls, then they were no longer just a city - state, but a country.  Many men died taking hold of that land near the falls.
However, all that aside, the Royal Order had full jurisdiction within any member country.  In simple words, they could go and do as they pleased.  No countries law enforcement could challenge them, nor could the local lawmakers.  They also had this problem with 'Organized Crime'.  They were determined to bring all such organizations down.  Why they never bothered the Alexian Pirates was beyond Jayce.  Now they were getting close to him.  This was indeed not a very pleasant thought. 
Sure, he knew that his name slipped off of tongues at the World Order, as did Colin's and many other large criminal organizations, but to this day, no overt effort was made towards any of them.  Though, they have been known to enlist the aid of the other largest organization on Dargothia, the White Wizard's of Carliside. These wizards altered their appearance and went undercover in these organizations.  One was discovered by Colin three years ago and expediently dispatched from this world.  If there were any within his empire, Jayce had not found them yet.  One more reason why he was as cautious as he was.
Jayce stood and paced behind his desk.  He guzzled down the last half of his tea.  He wiped his bearded chin clean then looked at Blade.  "Where's the jewels at now?"
Blade stood, "In our personal vault."
A small ringing sounded from the corner of the room and  interrupted Jayce.  It was the alert bell that was connected by wire to the bar keep.  "What the Hells does Jacob need?"  He looked back at Blade.  "Alright, I need you to get in touch with Nalin in the dwarven catacombs.  Use the underwater tunnel not the canyon tunnel, and ask him if he can store the stuff temporarily."  Jayce paused and looked at his desk, then quickly glared back to Blade.  "Who else knows?  Who helped you with the transaction?"
"Geoffrey," he answered.
Jayce sighed in relief.  "Good.  Where did you meet the bandits?"
Blade smiled, "In the grave catacombs off the coastal extension.  The night guard there work for us."
"Well, both men disappear today."
Blade gave him a confused, but yet knowing stare, "Disappear where Jayce?"
"At the bottom of the sea," Jayce returned.  Blade just closed his eyes.  No rebuttal this time.  Blade knew this could happen to anyone of their men at anytime.  Sure they may be loyal to the organization, but magic could see into your soul.  All Royal Order Patrols carried at least one wizard for just such purposes.
"And me?" Blade asked with fear on his face.
"You stay down here.  No going topside until Shae or I say it is safe," Jayce answered with a smile.  "Your too valuable to toss into the sea."
"Thanks Jayce," Blade said with relief.  His expression turned to puzzlement as he looked at Shae.  "What about her, and even you?"
Jayce smiled, "Send a runner to Ayrial's men.  Tell them I want to meet with the lady."
Blade rolled his eyes back.  "That witch makes me nervous."
"She makes the Order and the White Wizard's of Carliside nervous too," Jayce said with a laugh.  As quickly as he laughed his demeanor turned serious.  "I'll get in touch with Jon and see if he can pick up the goods at the dwarven sea cave."
"You'll need Nalin's and Norrelle's permission for that one, My Lord," Shae added.
Jayce looked at her and smiled, "I’ll get Norrelle's and Blade, mention it to Nalin."  He saw Blade nod in agreement from the corner of his eye.  "Now Blade, not later."  Blade took the hint and left the office.  Jayce moved to the door, "Shall we see why Jacob rang me for Shae?"
"Yes My Lord," she answered.
He rolled his eyes.  "You make me laugh."